Page 17 of Murder at Christmas

‘What is it, Winston? What’s the problem?’

At that moment, Marina appeared through the door behind me, took in the scene and shot us both a concerned look. ‘Where’s Signor Bartolomeo? He should be with Winston. They went out for a walk together straight after the meeting ended, before the arrival of the snow.’

Her concern was immediately mirrored on her husband’s face. ‘He hasn’t come back?’

I was the first to answer. ‘Oscar and I were coming in from the van when Winston appeared, but there was no sign of Bartolomeo. Do you think something might have happened to him?’ A cold sensation settled on me, which had nothing to dowith the weather outside. Could it be that Bartolomeo’s worst fears had been realised – and I hadn’t been here to help?

Paolo shook his head uncertainly. ‘Normally, he and Winston are always together, and it’s very unlike him to go off on his own, particularly in a snowstorm.’

I glanced across at Marina. ‘Marina, I think it might be a good idea if you were to go and check all the rooms and ask everybody to see if Bartolomeo somehow managed to come in without Winston. Does he have a mobile phone? Try calling him. We need to know as soon as possible where he is.’

She shot off out of the door again and Paolo and I exchanged glances. He said it before I did. ‘Let’s hope nothing’s happened to him. In these conditions, it’s all too easy to become disorientated. He could be lost – or worse.’

I nodded in agreement. ‘Have you seen the weather forecast? Is it going to snow all day and all night?’

‘They said on the TV that it might stop in an hour or so, but then it’ll pick up again this evening, and we’re in for a real dump of snow tonight and maybe all day tomorrow.’ A sceptical look appeared on his face. ‘Mind you, they get it wrong more times than they get it right, so who knows?’ He went over to the window and peered out, but it was like looking into a solid white wall. ‘It’s certainly coming down hard at the moment. If something has happened to Bartolomeo, we’re going to have a devil of a job finding him.’

11

TUESDAY EARLY AFTERNOON

Marina returned less than five minutes later with the news that she had spoken to everybody and checked all the rooms but had found no sign of Bartolomeo. I was on the point of suggesting that we organise a search party when Paolo spoke up. He sounded reassuringly organised, and I deferred to him and his local knowledge, pleased to see him step up to the plate.

‘Right, we need to go out and look for him. He’ll be wearing warm clothing, but it won’t keep him warm for long, especially if he has incapacitated himself somehow. Dan, are you up for it?’

‘Yes, of course. Tell me what you want me to do.’

I saw Paolo pause for thought. ‘What we don’t need is for everybody to rush outside into a white-out and, before we know it, we could lose somebody else. I suggest you and I go with the two dogs, and I’ll ask Orlando if he’s prepared to come with us as well. We’ll take the most probable routes he would have followed, and three of us should be enough for now. The mobile signal outside isn’t always reliable, but we have a set of walkie-talkies that have a range of a couple of kilometres. We’ll take one each. You have a mobile phone, don’t you?’

‘Yes, but I thought you said there was poor reception.’

‘It’s patchy in some places, but check if you have a compass on your phone. Most of the modern ones have a compass app nowadays.’

‘Yes, I know I have a compass.’

‘Good, right, I’ll go and talk to Orlando. See you in the hall in five minutes.’

I didn’t need to feel Oscar’s nose nudging my knee to know that there was something I needed to do urgently, so he and I ran up the stairs to our room. I found Anna up there and, while I gave Oscar his all-important lunch, I quickly told her about the disappearance of Bartolomeo and what Paolo and I were going to do. A look of grave concern spread over her face, which wasn’t just for the missing man.

‘You be careful, Dan. No heroics, all right?’

I gave her what I hoped would look like a reassuring smile. ‘Me, heroics? I leave all that kind of thing to Oscar.’

I left her looking unconvinced and hurried back downstairs to the hall, where I found, not only Paolo and Orlando, but Valentina as well, putting on their cold weather gear. Paolo gave me an apologetic look. ‘I told Valentina there was no need, but she insisted on coming.’

‘He’s my father, Paolo. You can’t expect me to just sit here helplessly.’ She looked and sounded determined – and worried sick, in spite of her sour tone of yesterday when talking of her father. Hardly the attitude of somebody considering patricide.

Paolo gave a resigned nod and then distributed the little radios. They were very simple to operate, and we checked that we were all on the same wavelength. Tucking his walkie-talkie into his breast pocket, Paolo pulled on his gloves. ‘I’ve given Umberto one of the radios and he’s going to monitor things from here. Right, are we all ready? I’ll take Winston, in the hope that he’ll lead me to Bartolomeo and, if not, Bartolomeo often walks north from here, along the track towards the wooden bridge overthe stream, so I’ll go that way. Orlando and Valentina, you know the path to the west, don’t you? You take that one and, Dan, why don’t you and Oscar follow the main track back down the valley until the end of the plateau? All of you, make sure you keep on the paths or tracks and, for God’s sake, mind where you put your feet. Remember which direction you’re going in and, when you turn back, remember to check your compass and walk in the opposite direction to before. It’s two-thirty now. Make sure you return here by three-thirty at the latest. We don’t want to lose anybody else. Let’s go.’

When we got outside, my first impression was that the wall of falling snow was impenetrable, but after a moment or two, my eyes and brain began to make sense of it. I found that I could in fact make out the ground five or at most ten metres ahead of me, and I managed to spot the side of my van over to the left, already with almost a foot of snow on it. I had to take off a glove in order to check the compass on my phone and, as I thought, the track headed off in an easterly direction. Stuffing it back in my pocket and hastily pulling my glove back on again, I set off with Oscar, my boots now disappearing into the already deep covering of snow. Having a black dog in a snowstorm turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as I was able to spot him quite easily as he led the way along the main track in the direction of the two rocky outcrops that marked the entrance to Pian delle Marmotte.

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I had to smile at Oscar’s antics. His tail was wagging furiously, and he kept stopping and looking down suspiciously to see where his paws had disappeared to, before bouncing about like a young puppy. He certainly appeared to be having a wonderful time and, curiously, I found that I rather enjoyed being out in these extreme conditions as well, although my enjoyment was tempered by the thought of what might have happened to Bartolomeo.

I paused ten minutes later when we got to the rocky outcrops where the valley narrowed, and I leant against the rock face, considering what I should do next. As I did so, my radio crackled, and a message came through in what I recognised as Umberto’s voice.

‘Dan, please report your position.’

I pressed Transmit. ‘I’ve just reached the rocky outcrops where the track bends sharply and starts to head down the valley. If you want me to continue, I will. If not, I’ve remembered that last night when I went for a walk with Bartolomeo, he took me down a different path that led off this one a hundred metres or so further back, and I reckon I can remember which one it is. Shall I try that?’