SAY MURDER WITH FLOWERS: A Rex Graves Mini-Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

out. Abruptly he had left his work on the table and gone out on a clandestine mission.
    He now watched in distraction while a disheveled old woman, the front buttons on her tweed coat misaligned, rolled a shopping bag made of stiff tartan cloth along the diagonal path through the park. The material bulged with elongated cylindrical shapes. Rex was in no doubt as to what the zipped-up bag contained. Whatever the lady’s alcoholic preference, she appeared eager to get home to consume it and proceeded at a purposeful clip. Would Elise Howes, with her predilection for drink, have ended up the same way? he wondered.
    A sudden gust ripped through the trees sending a new shower of woodsy-scented chestnut blooms onto the grass. Retrieving his black brolly, he rose from the bench. He discarded the coffee container and pastry box in a corrugated iron bin, and exited the park. On the street he hailed a black cab, giving the driver the Italian Ambassador’s address.
    Vittorio Scalfaro was home, confined to a day bed in the drawing room with a professed migraine, and draped in a silk robe of midnight blue. He was almost comically flabbergasted when the Scotsman told him he had found his silver Ferrari in Giannelli’s “other” garage undergoing a touch-up.
    “You found my stolen car?”
    Judging by the decor, the ambassador was a man of refined taste, and Rex felt frumpy by comparison. But Scalfaro was not a good liar, at least not for a diplomat.
    “Not stolen, Ambassador,” Rex said pointedly. “Merely temporarily out of commission. Your private club gave me a list of the valet-parked cars for Friday night. Yours was returned to you withoot a scratch shortly before Miss Howes’ accident.”
    The man’s clean-shaven face sank into blurred lines. Rex decided to cut him some slack. Scalfaro appeared to be suffering enough.
    “You probably did not see the young woman step out onto the street. A van blocked your visibility, and it was dark. Had the wheel been on the right-hand side, you might have seen her sooner and had a chance to break.”
    “Alas, so true!” The ambassador spoke in melodious tones, like Gino’s. “I should have bought a car with British steering, but I planned on driving the Ferrari back to Italy. Signorina Howes leapt out of nowhere! I felt the impact and took off in a blind panic. I didn’t realize at the time that the pedestrian was Sir Howes’ daughter. I thought I should get home right away and seek legal advice. After all, a person in my position… How would it look?”
    “Worse now,” Rex informed him. “The police will suspect you of drinking. And charge you with fleeing the scene of an accident.”
    Scalfaro raised his hands in supplication. “A gin and tonic and two glasses of wine with dinner. It is conceivable I was going too fast—one always does in Ferraris, but traffic was light. I am filled with remorse. But, what can be proved?”
    Not a lot, Rex thought; except that the man was a coward. To top it all, he had diplomatic immunity from prosecution. What, he enquired out of interest, had Scalfaro’s legal advice been?
    “To wait on events. When no one was able to identify my car, my attorney suggested I get it fixed without delay using the utmost discretion. The repercussions as Italian Ambassador to the UK could be embarrassing in the extreme, and Parliament has enough embarrassment to deal with. If only I could turn back the clock of that terrible night!” Scalfaro lamented.
    Aye, thought Rex, but the girl would probably be dead anyhow, at Giannelli’s hands.
    And what did Rex plan to do with this information? the ambassador asked, rising shakily from the Victorian day bed.
    “Not my decision,” Rex told him, excusing himself with a curt goodbye.
    It was time to confront Gino Giannelli.
    *
    Rex consulted his notebook for the business address Mr. Whitmore had provided, and availed himself of the waiting cab. A shower broke out as they took off down the quiet leafy street and