Cut Short Read Online Free PDF

inspect your records, Mr Umberto, although I daresay the Inland Revenue would find them interesting.' Umberto was deeply sorry but his accountant was on holiday and 'all my papers are taken with him.' His protestations about Angela were equally insincere. He declared that the café would never recover from her loss. 'She don't complain. She is clean and always she smiles to see me.' The only thing that rang true was when he said, 'Always she gets good tips. Is good for everyone, yes?'
      'We'd like to take a look around,' Peterson said.
      Mr Umberto flushed. 'You want to look around?' he repeated, as though the sergeant had made an obscene suggestion. He followed them through the door marked STAFF ONLY. Christina wasn't there. As Geraldine turned to Umberto, the girl reappeared through the fire door. She smelt of cigarette smoke. Geraldine and Peterson exchanged a glance.
      'I just been out for a breath of air,' Christina mumbled, and turned to the sink. She began to scrub it furiously. Mr Umberto nodded and shrugged, as if to say, 'What can you do? You just can't get the staff nowadays. Is not like Italy.' They had a quick look around the kitchen.
      'I'd like to speak to you again, Christina. In here.' Geraldine led the girl back in to the café and they sat down, out of earshot of Umberto. 'Just one last question, Christina. You were here at work, yesterday morning?' The girl nodded. 'What time did you arrive?'
      'I was on the morning shift but Angie never turned up at one so the boss asked me to stay on. He was hopping mad. It wasn't the first time. She was always phoning in sick. Only yesterday she never phoned. The boss swore he'd sack her this time. I had to work a twelve hour day, without a break.' Peterson's eyes narrowed at that but Geraldine focused on her line of questioning.
      'Were you busy here yesterday morning?'
      Christina shrugged. 'The usual.'
      'How does it work, then, Christina? You're serving at the tables, and Mr Umberto is where? In the kitchen?'
      The girl laughed. 'Him? In the kitchen? Never. That's me, that is. In and out the kitchen, serving tables, clearing tables, washing up. All he ever does is stand behind the till and make sandwiches. He won't trust anyone else to do it. No one slices like he does, he says.'
      'I bet he can slice cucumber thinner than anyone,' Peterson chipped in and Christina sniggered.
      'You're right there.'
      'Did he go out to the kitchen at all?'
      'No. I told you. He never does. All he ever does is stand by his precious till, slicing, and grinning at people as they order their sandwiches.'
      'Was he here all morning yesterday, Christina? He didn't go out for anything? Think carefully.'
      Christina answered straight away. 'He never leaves the café when it's open. He doesn't trust anyone. Won't even go to the toilet. He won't give anyone else a key, or let us near the till.' Geraldine sat back. She had her answer. Antonio Umberto couldn't have slipped out to the park on Wednesday morning.
      'The Food Standards Agency might want a chat with that charmer, after the Inland Revenue finish with him,' Peterson muttered to Geraldine as they climbed back in the car.
      She nodded. 'Remind me to cross Bella Café off my list of places to eat.'
      'What do you reckon on Umberto, ma'am? I think he's hiding something.'
      'He's a slimeball all right,' Geraldine agreed, 'but the waitress gave him an alibi. And being crooked doesn't make him a suspect in a murder case. Where's his motive?'
      'Umberto's accounts are fiddled,' Peterson said. 'Maybe Angela Waters found out.'
      'Hardly a motive for murder.'
      'She could have been blackmailing him?'
      'Hmm. It's a thought, I suppose. Christina's given him an alibi, but we'll check out the possibility anyway.' Peterson grinned enthusiastically as she gave some credence to his theory, making her remember he'd only recently been promoted to DS. 'I'll have a constable put onto it