Chapter 9: Everything was consensual
In the event, it had taken Carlo a day to get Mirriam Bonsignore extradited to their custody. Which meant that Romano had had a full day to clear paperwork off his desk and avoid Catterina's attentions. He had two contrasting flavors in his mouth all day - disgusted regret about the Pink Kitty and the candied orange and coffee cream of that cannolo. So after a lunch at Enzo's and a walk along the jetty, he'd returned home via the cafe at the Warf with a portion for himself.
He kept Madame Bonsignore waiting till after lunch the next day. And, taking no chances, it was Carlo who joined him for the interview - he, at least, was unlikely to get handsy under the table.
"I should inform you, Madame Bonsignore," Romano started.
"Mirriam," she interjected.
"I should inform you, Mirriam, that I've spoken to Giulia, I've interviewed Aya, I know the story, or a good portion of it. So if we could skip the denials and get straight to the facts, I'd appreciate it."
"I should also let you know that, while I'm only interested in your husband's murder, to get you here we had to lay all possible, known charges in front of the Prosecutor, so I cannot say there will be no further interest in your activities. And therefore, the more you cooperate now, the more I can tell the prosecutor about how... helpful... you've been."
He stopped there, to let her absorb all this and to get a better look at her. He'd noticed she was tall and seemed well put together for a woman in police custody almost 18 hours now. But on closer inspection he noticed some signs of distressed conditions - a poor manicure. And her hair needed a treatment, a faded red showing through at the ends from a long past dye job.
The woman across from them didn't look scared. She wasn't going to be frightened into saying something stupid. And 'stupid' probably meant something true.
"I'll make this easy for you then, Inspector," said Madame Bonsingore. "My husband ran a series of parties. Sometimes, as happens at parties, things got wild. As far as I know, nothing illegal occurred. But if it did, it was my husband who organized the parties and my husband upon whom any consequences should fall."
"Easily said, Signora'," responded Romano, "But your husband is conveniently dead."
"Convenient for you perhaps," she retorted, "For me, it's a pain in the ass."
"Excuse me if I say, you don't seem devastated, Signora."
"Mirriam" she interjected.
"Well then," said Romano, "You don't appear devastated Mirriam. Did you love your husband?"
"Inspector, I was divorcing my husband, my advocate will be along soon enough and I asked him to bring the papers. As to why. My husband asked a lot of me. He expected a lot of me. But when I gave him what he wanted he could become insanely jealous. And when he became jealous, he became violent. At some point, it became too much," she said.
Romano could see her play quite clearly now. Claim innocence, blame the husband, and then, whatever came to light, it was the husband who forced her to participate.
"And then," she continued, "I learned he had perverted the one cause I am truly invested in - supporting and caring for our immigrant population. Did you know," she leaned forward with a whisper, "that he was taking advantage of our poor Tunisian guests, to whom I'd opened our home and who I was supporting in finding a foothold here in Italy?"
Romano took a breath, while she assessed the effect this had on him. Did she have him in check with her first move on the board? "Mirriam, we have had the opportunity to interview your nanny. And she tells us that she saw a Tunisian girl being taken advantage of."
