ã€ŠThe Murder of the mermaidã€‹ Chapter 1 The waves crashed gently on the shore as the sun slowly began to rise over the village of Branchlion to herald a new summer day. Soon the soft colors of the sky would have burned as much as the summer sun which, for the third time that week, would have made the many residents and few tourists gasp from the early hours. A mild breeze was blowing lightly enough to make the leaves of the palm trees that grew on the sidewalk that cut the road along the seafront swing in half, the beaches were slowly preparing for another day of work and far away on the horizon of the sea the boats of the fishermen sailed with the hope of an abundant catch. A few souls had already taken a seat on the beach: some to bathe in the water in quiet solitude, some to breathe fresh air before the sun burned them. Among the early risers was a small family of two adults and two children. They came from one of the nearby towns and this was one of the many reasons for the grumbling of the two stressed parents who had had to come by car to reach the seaside destination. They did not go unnoticed by the ears of the solitary bathers, who turned to see a couple of adults loaded with the classic beach "armament" consisting of an umbrella, beach toys, bags full of towels, and so on. The two children, a boy and a girl, held hands as they followed their parents in silence like ducklings, absorbed in thoughts dedicated to the upcoming sand games, swimming and the possibility of being able to catch some little fish with their green nets. The little girl was holding a plastic doll dressed like a mermaid close to her chest, the fabric tail was all frayed and the sequins that simulated scales were missing, her blonde hair had been partially colored with a blue marker. Every time they went to the seaside, she hoped to see one just like her doll or the ones she saw singing on television, her little eyes full of innocence carefully observed the surface of the sea and she didn''t look away even when her older brother told her to walk faster or pay attention to obstacles. Suddenly the little girl began to run towards the beach, easily freeing herself from her brother''s secure hold. Her mother shouted after her to stop and chased her, causing her sea bags to fall to the ground. The little girl went down the slope of the beach, sinking her feet into the warm sand under which small stones and cigarette butts left by rude bathers were hidden, her arms in the air to keep herself balanced and her mouth open in an adorable smile studded with baby teeth. pearly milks. Her haphazard running stopped near the shore with a victorious shriek of excitement. She waved the mermaid doll in the air like a flag and pointed out to her mother with glee the humanoid figure near which she had stopped, repeating with her in her high-pitched voice ¡°she''s just like my doll!¡±. The mother, angry at her daughter''s innocent mischief, paid no attention to her words. Not right away at least. Only when the seashore was within her sight did she realize what was affecting the little girl... and that was when her scream was heard by everyone nearby.

Miss Ottavia Dandelion opened her eyes and the red-lit numbers on the digital alarm clock were the first thing she saw. The time read 10:30. ¡°How late it is!¡± The woman thought, in her mind. As a morning person, it felt strange for her to wake up so late, she felt as if she had lost part of the day and this created a sense of unease and, above all, of hurry in having to make up for lost time. Luckily the heat partly dampened that sensation, the rest was taken care of by the memory of being on holiday. There was only her in her house at that moment, the only noise she heard was that of the birds perched on the trees outside in the garden and the rough waves of the sea a few steps from her house. Her men were most likely already on the beach, swimming, or tanning, or more simply solving a crossword. She couldn''t help but smile when she thought back to the surprise her husband had given her when two weeks ago, he announced that he had booked a villa in Branchlion for two months. Ottavia knew that place mainly from her companion''s stories, as it was the town where he had spent most of his summers as a boy. It was not a typical location designated for tourism where one finds environments such as discos, amusement parks or luxury restaurants; it was to be defined more as a place dedicated simply to the sea and rest... no chaotic extravaganzas, therefore, except when special evenings are organized on the marine shores or village festivals take place. She was more than fine with it. A little quiet was just what she needed after a year as busy as hers and a family vacation never turned her down. Only the two sons had shown little enthusiasm, an almost normal reaction for two teenagers who would certainly have preferred to stay in more thrilling places. She was amazed by the elegance of the small villa: it was painted a delicate pastel pink, the roof had red tiles and white columns were arranged on the front facade, outside there was a beautiful garden embellished with small evergreen trees and one with oleander rose that partially covered the entrance gate with its flowery festoons. The interior was clean, spacious, and welcoming, with modern style furniture and paintings reproducing famous works; divided into two floors of which the upper one was equipped with a large balcony from which you could look out to observe the sea or catch the fresh evening breeze. Result: the perfect space for a family of four. After drinking a quick coffee, she got ready to join his family on the beach. Two weeks of sun had not been enough to scratch the whiteness of her skin, the few but light freckles and the red hair seemed to accentuate her resemblance to a snowflake, which was not helpful to her self-esteem in among so many people who already boasted an enviable chocolate tan. A blue sundress and a straw hat were more than enough to protect her from the light at least until she arrived under the safe shade of the umbrella, where she would stop to prepare to enter the water and enjoy the freshness of the warm sea. It didn''t seem strange to her to see so many people with phones in their hands taking pictures, photographs, or video calls... but even an entire crowd was almost strange. On the horizon, beyond two of the three marine shores that were on the street, there was a lively group of people and the easily recognizable local police cars. She walked briskly towards the goal, constantly adjusting the large rainbow bag filled with towels, books to read, and sunscreen over her shoulder. Just at that moment, she thought of finally checking her cell phone, realizing that she had missed messages and calls from both her husband and children. She had time to read a message before realizing for herself what had happened: "There has been a murder." There was nobody to be seen at the crime scene, but a good portion of the area had been closed off to allow the continuation of the investigations which were taking place both on land and at sea. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. In the water, divers were climbing from the hulls of the police forces. On the beach, however; an orderly line of six agents combed every inch with a watchful eye. Everyone was looking for evidence, of course. Who knows if something had already been found, the woman wondered. In addition to the crowd of curious civilians, there was no shortage of press who, hungry for information, repeatedly asked questions to the local commissioner Alfio Leoni, who however knew as much as them: i.e. nothing. The Commissioner was short and bald, with a proud and severe expression and bright brown eyes, his voice was incredibly high and strong, allowing him to be heard even from a distance and even being able to overwhelm those who didn''t let him speak or didn''t want to listen to his warnings. Ottavia, with her cell phone still in her hand, quickly composed a message. At the same time, the Commissioner received a notification on his phone and stepped away to read it in private. [Commissioner, what happened? Was there a murder?] The man took a quick look at the crowd and immediately noticed the white figure of Ottavia. [Good morning, dear friend. I can¡¯t confirm whether it was a homicide. However, I guarantee you that the discover will inflame the news in the next few minutes more than the record heat of these days.] [I see. The press is hungry for information.] [They can die of thirst, as far as I''m concerned. Until I have more information, I will not waste a single word on them.] [And with me, Commissioner? Will it leave me high and dry?] The man understood where she was going with this and thought about it for a couple of minutes before answering her. [Depends. Maybe I''ll need a friendly voice in the next few days... this case is already shaping up to be very strange and stressful.] [Why?] [I should show it to understand, but...] [Don''t worry, I have no impression of a dead body.] After a few minutes of waiting, a photo file arrived in the timeline. Opening it, Ottavia was presented with a photo of a beautiful woman with a pearly skin, long blue hair with purple locks adorned with shells and pearls and... a blue fish tail with silvery reflections in place of legs. A mermaid, that''s who the victim was... or at least, how she pretended to be. It was more than obvious that it was a costume. She seemed to be posing, she didn''t give the impression of a corpse at all; she looked as if she were asleep and had her arms resting upwards on the bench, her hair fanned out behind her back. The first thing Ottavia thought, after seeing the photo, was that she wanted to know more. How did a mermaid end up on that beach? [Promise me you''ll keep me informed.] [Only if she promises to prepare me one of her famous relaxing herbal teas.] [Deal.] When there was a mystery in her way, great curiosity was born in Ottavia Dandelion. She was not a detective, nor did she work for the police in any capacity¡ in fact, she was the modest owner of a tea room in Brimstone, whose expertise and skill was known around town for the quality of her drinks and snacks. Nonetheless, she had a keen interest in crimes, particularly very strange ones. And lo and behold, the one about the fish-woman was very interesting. As expected, the news of the incident was soon spread on television and gained notoriety thanks also to its peculiarity. Some photos taken by people who had found the body (and were convinced that it was a real mermaid, among other things) were leaked onto the web and immediately went around the world, to the disappointment of the police who would have preferred to limit their reach. The opinions on the case were lost in an ocean of words, it must be said. Some were convinced it was a hoax, those who proposed absurd theories and those who even proposed the disturbing reality of the murder. At the ¡°Lido Saturno¡± where she used to have lunch or dinner with her family, there wasn''t a diner who didn''t talk about it. Even though everyone was discussing it in hushed tones in the blue and white open-air restaurant, she could very well understand the various conversations that people exchanged among themselves, accustomed to the gossip that the ladies who frequented her tearoom used to exchange with the same tone. The chatter she heard, though; they were not in any way interesting or helpful in giving her any initial insight into how that poor girl died. << ... Which is bad luck, that''s what I think. >> << Really Alberto? Do you still believe these things? >> << Yes Matteo, and you know it well. >> Her family was also discussing the topic, although at some point it had taken a turn related to superstition. The owner of the place Alberto Vienna, a friend of her husband Felix since adolescence (who used to call him by his second name for a funny reason), was convinced that this event would bring bad luck to the town. He and her husband were the same age, but the man had early onset of gray hair that gave everyone the impression that he was much older, a misunderstanding also accentuated by the mustache not exactly suited to a face like his. It must be said, however, that he had a nice athletic physique thanks to the fact that he did a lot of physical activity and in particular that he swam a lot, a detail that Ottavia did not fail to underline, hoping that this would encourage her husband to do the same. As for his worries, Felix belittled them because he was aware of how superstitious he was and reproached him for still believing in what he considered nonsense. Perhaps he was the only person, together with the commissioner, who did not want to say anything about the matter until he had more precise information. Until then, he would remain stoic. << It is not the first time that serious accidents have occurred in the city. >> her husband said to his friend, in a flat and serious voice. <> << But did you see how the woman was dressed? When have you ever seen something like this around here? >> << You should come visit us in town, then. There you will see inconceivable things. >> << I''ll tell you again: this story will bring us bad luck. Even the staff are nervous. >> << Of course, because it''s you who makes them anxious. >> The owner threw his hands in the air, surrendering to Felix''s apathy, and went back to the kitchen. << Sorry guys... he''s usually not so agitated. >> << Don''t worry Lorenzo, he''s always been like this. >> Lorenzo was Alberto''s nephew, as well as one of the waiters at the family-run restaurant. He was a tall, thin boy, his face was beginning to take on the typical adult features accentuated by a shaved beard, his hair was short and unkempt, continually frizzy probably due to the continuous sweating that had left two large halos under his armpits. He usually presented himself smiling and hospitable, as a waiter should show, but that day he was also in a sad mood which forced him to wear a forced smile. In reality, his uncle had told a half-truth: even if not everyone was as upset as he was about the matter, some were impressed by it, even if not at the same level as him. << How are you, Lorenzo? Were you shocked too? >> Ottavia asked him, noticing his mood. The boy was little older than her children, so he had a maternal instinct to worry about his well-being. << Yes... I admit it. And you, Mrs. Ottavia, aren''t you upset? >> << Honestly? For nothing. >> Lorenzo''s eyes widened at that answer. Ottavia did not miss her husband''s amused smile hidden under the napkin. He knew what she was like and was no longer surprised by her interest in crimes. << Don''t get me wrong, what happened is sad. But at the same time, I would like to know what brought a woman, among other things dressed like a mythological creature, to these quiet beaches. >> << Seriously? You are curious about it? >> << Like everyone else, after all. I hope I don''t seem too strange to you. >> << Not at all. Indeed, fortunately there is a beautiful lady like you to cheer up the atmosphere. >> << Lorenzo, take away that enchanted look from my wife. She''s not one of the little girls you can usually flirt with. >> << Who did you take me for? I am a gentleman. >> At a certain point the chatter in the room was covered by the lively notes of the music. From a radio hidden somewhere and through houses positioned at strategic points, old and new famous songs dedicated to summer began to play, instigating dancing in children and teenagers. With that harmonious addition, for a moment it seemed that normality had returned to the little world of Branchlion and that death had not stopped by to spoil the holidays of those who just wanted to have even just a week of serenity. Chapter 2 Commissioner Leoni gave up on using the pink fan that his wife had lent him, unable to bear the intense heat that oppressed part of the forensic medicine laboratory for a minute longer. The light breeze produced by the instrument provided a slight relief, but it took more than a small object of wood and cloth to chase away the oppressive heat. What a bad thing to be old, he thought. Alfio Leoni was 60 years old, 37 of which he lived alongside the law. With retirement on the horizon, he couldn''t wait to hang up his handcuffs and leave the long game of cops and robbers behind forever. His sense of justice was now overwhelmed by physical tiredness and the desire for a more peaceful daily life that he could not wait to dedicate to his good wife''s lunches and naps. He had to confess to himself that his career as commissioner of Branchlion was not dotted with particularly exceptional cases apart from perhaps some interference from the mafia, but he could proudly say that he had always tried to enforce the law and had never fallen into the temptation of corruption as had happened to his predecessor, for which he was sadly remembered. Him, however; what would he be remembered for? For being a good cop who did his duty, or for the one who investigated the woman with the fishtail? If it were to be about fame, it would surely have gone to the city itself, a fact that the journalists were demonstrating with every report aired. He was only interested in finding out the truth. Finally, the coroner decided to let him enter the autopsy room, at least the air conditioning was working there and he didn''t mind sharing it with the deceased housed in the narrow cold rooms. One of these was lying in the middle of the room on a large iron table covered with a pure white sheet. Without the file provided to him by the coroner, he would never have recognized his victim, the mermaid. Without makeup and a wig, the girl had a simple, almost normal appearance. Her skin had a dull olive color and her hair was long and straight ivory blonde, she had a round doll''s face and very elongated flat hands and feet, and her heart-shaped lips were now deathly purple. Seeing her hands, he wondered if she was a pianist, usually long and thin fingers were the prerogative of a musician, while with those feet of hers, he saw her as an expert swimmer. She noticed that her nails were very well-groomed, filed to the point that they took on the shape of drops, and on her right cheek she had a small dark birthmark that resembled a cloud. << Where is the rest of his body? >> asked Leoni, ironically referring to the costume. << Do you mean the tail? They are still examining it. >> The coroner replied to him, as he put away the last analysis tools. << If the water hasn''t washed away all the evidence, which is very likely. >> The Commissioner took the updated dossier of the victim, his eye immediately jumped to the cause of death which, as if underlined with a red stripe, concentrated the attention of the reader: Name: Cynthia Remaut Age: 38 years old Time of death: around 00:30 Cause of death: drowning Place of death: unknown <> << Yes, but what we found in her lungs is not seawater. The analysis confirmed that it is tap water. >> The commissioner looked at the coroner astonished. Then he looked at the body as if he expected it to give him an explanation. <> << A murder, then? >> << So, it would seem, but there is no evidence to prove it, yet. >> <> << I''ll go and see him as soon as I finish here. He is still in hospital due to shock. >> << Poor guy, it must have been terrible to hear about his wife''s death. >> << As long as he doesn''t have anything to do with it. >> Alfio Leoni had no evidence against the only witness who knew the victim, but he was ready to bet on his certain involvement. Jannes Lemmens was Cynthia Remaut''s husband. Originally from Malvoli, a region in the East, they had been in Branchlion on holiday for just over a week, part of a long and planned "on the road" trip along the entire coast. He was a mechanical engineer; she was a kindergarten teacher... the classic middle-class citizen. In every photo of them they were smiling and close-knit, you could say that they were a couple who oozed love from every pore and that they couldn''t do without each other... and Jannes was proving this. His eyes were red pits of desperation from which rivers of tears continued to flow, a broken heart like his would be very unlikely to heal after that tragedy. They had heard him scream the first moment the news became public, the witnesses had described him as if he were crazy as he ran aimlessly down the street calling out the name of his beloved and pulling his hair to wake up from a dream that couldn''t have been true, risking being hit on the street more than once, perhaps to put an end to his first life. They had to sedate him both for their safety and for that of others... and once the effect was over, all that remained of him was a poor sad widower. <> the man said between sobs. He spoke the local language imprecisely, but just enough to be understood without the need for an interpreter. Commissioner Alfio continued to offer handkerchief after handkerchief, listening to his outburst with respect and without interrupting him. << She was a good woman... the children loved her so much and we were planning to have our own... I don''t understand what happened... >> << Do you have any idea why she was disguised like that? >> He managed to ask him, finally. For a moment Jannes seemed to blush, but Leoni couldn''t tell if it was due to how much he had been crying or if it was his impression. << She liked mermaids since she was a child... she always dressed like that at parties. I always told her that she was beautiful, but I didn''t know that she had worn a swimsuit... >> << Maybe she wanted to surprise you. >> Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. << Maybe, yeah¡ >> << Tell me, Mr. Lemmens, when did you realize that your wife was missing? >> The man claimed that his partner was not in the room with him on the morning of the discovery and had assumed that she had already gone down to the beach or that she had gone out for a solo walk. Leoni asked him the classic ritual questions: had they argued? Were there any problems during the trip? Were they having problems with anyone? Jannes replied no to all of them, reiterating how perfect their life as a couple was. The Commissioner then asked him if he had heard her go out during the night: he could not confirm because he was taking sleeping pills for insomnia, but he told him that before falling asleep she was still awake, intent on watching television, and he remembered that they were approximately 10.14 pm. ¡°So there is a gap of almost three hours before death,¡± thought the commissioner. What had the victim done in the meantime? She had gone out and dressed up as a mermaid for¡ what reason? Just to satisfy your fantasy of pretending to be a fish? And where did she die if the sea wasn''t the place where she drowned? The more he thought about it, the more he didn''t find sense... and above all, his suspicion towards the man in front of him grew. It was proven that in 70.0% of cases, the murderer of homicide between couples is the husband and there he had an excellent possible example. <> Leoni stopped the glass of coffee in front of his mouth, surprised to hear the discordant opinion of his friend Ottavia. The woman had invited him to have a chat and a coffee. Fortunately, fresh air from the sea entered the living room, the smell of salt was so strong that now and then it overpowered that of the drink. Ottavia wore a simple sundress with four different shades of blue suitable for the climate, despite the heat she wore a thin veil of makeup which made her beautiful green eyes and full lips still charming. Legally he could not have shared information on the case, but rumors had reached him that the lady had a certain "influence" regarding police cases due to her intervention in a famous incident which had made her somewhat famous among her colleagues. Precisely this talk, however incredible, had convinced him to break the rules. Regardless of the rumors, Alfio and Ottavia had become good friends since her arrival in the country. << A man so in love wouldn''t have touched a hair on her head. Look at how much happiness in their smiles, the love in their genuine hugs and kisses. They loved each other. >> Ottavia couldn''t help but feel a sort of happiness as she examined the photos of the couple, she felt like saying "how good they look together!". Having also heard the opinions of the commissioner, she was still more than certain of her innocence. This one instead groaned in annoyance. << Whoever is guilty must know how to pretend. Some are so good they can be actors. >> <> << I''m just saying that many things don''t add up: the sleeping pills, the scene in the street... it all seems planned on purpose. >> << Let''s pretend he''s involved. For what purpose, in your opinion, would he have killed her? >> The question posed to him by Ottavia was not unusual for the commissioner, it was one of the points that the investigators asked each other during the investigations. Yet, for some reason, the way she asked him about it made him feel¡ embarrassed. <> <> <> Ottavia did not doubt the man''s investigative experience but, in her opinion, relying on an already fixed idea like that of the guilty husband was wrong. She couldn''t change his mind even when he left, advising him to keep his mind open to other possibilities. When she said that her husband wasn''t involved it wasn''t out of naivety or pure pity, hers was certainty given to her by how he behaved. By managing her tearoom, Ottavia had learned to observe people and decipher their behavior, regardless of whether they were regular customers or new. The way a person spoke, acted... even how she lifted a cup or ate could reveal so many details about their personality and very often her guesses turned out to be right. The video of Jemmis was doing the rounds on the web with a lot of popularity at the time - it was amazing how people recorded everything, she thought - being linked to the news of the mermaid: in it, you could see how desperate he was as he ran and screamed. How can someone pretend like that so believably? No, in that case, he wasn''t a fake at all as the commissioner was convinced. However, she had to agree with him about one thing: there was something strange. He went down to the beach and reached the place where the body was found, addressing a silent prayer to heaven. The area was still cordoned off, someone had left bouquets and soft toys near a red flag perhaps left by the police at the end of the investigations. From a safe distance, life continued as if nothing had happened, between diving into the waves and chatting under the umbrella, deliberately trying to ignore the traces of the tragedy. The wind, the water, and the time would one day erase that bad memory, but until then the effort would have to be made to live with that dark reminder. She continued walking along the seafront, passing under the shadows of the palm trees that divided the road in half, passing groups of teenagers who were busy running on the beach or runners who braved the heat to stay fit, while the crystalline sea offered energetic waves to the younger bathers who rode them with mattresses and donuts. As the walk continued, the style of the homes changed, the low and modest houses occupied by large families were gradually replaced by buildings that had been recently renovated and were even more exclusive to the eye, slightly changing the appearance of the area which now had a refined appearance. Ottavia stopped in front of the ¡°Gentle Grotto¡± Hotel, the place where the victim had made a temporary love nest with her partner. The structure was large, snow white with dark green shutters, equipped with beautiful and welcoming rooms furnished with modern and luxurious furniture, each with one or even two balconies overlooking the area inside and outside. Among the various services provided, the hotel offered an excellent restaurant, a relaxation area that also served as a lobby, and a swimming pool with an unusual bean shape. Ottavia knew all this through the photos and reviews uploaded directly to the site. Even though the entrance consisted of a simple staircase of eight narrow steps and a small gate, she knew she could not enter freely without being stopped by someone from the staff who constantly monitored her, most likely to prevent non-customers from taking advantage of the open-air swimming pool. She tried to identify with it: where could she go in the evening, with a bag or perhaps a suitcase, in which she had put her elaborate costume inside, in a place like this? The way she was made up, she looked like she had been to some extravagant party suitable for pubs or discos. The beaches acted as substitutes for those environments, but that evening there had been no music or entertainment events scheduled in any of the three places and she remembered it well. It was certain that she had not stopped to have a drink or an ice cream, from the questions asked the bartenders and staff did not remember having seen her... even if it was difficult to confirm it because remembering a face among all those who passed by in hundreds between the day and the evening did not it was easy. She had gone to a specific place¡ perhaps far away. But where? She suddenly heard the typical echo of police car sirens. From the nearby road, three black cars appeared skidding dangerously around the narrow curve, stopping in the middle of the road and risking hitting the streetlamps and the pavement. A dozen officers got out of the vehicles and ran into the hotel, attracting the attention of both the staff and the guests looking out the windows. Behind her she heard a breathless huff: the Commissioner, who had left her just a handful of minutes earlier, was quickly reaching her, running with one hand resting on his right hip. <> he told her with a satisfied smile. <> << We received a tip while I was talking to you. This will give a big boost to the case. >> The man took the phone and, with exhausting patience, opened an email that had arrived at the police station''s email address. The content included only the link to an internet page already opened separately by the commissioner, of which the text that began with "The 10 sites of..." could be partially read. She didn''t frequent the world of the web much, but when she surfed it, she was easily ensnared by those pages of rankings and curiosities about the world. << it is a delicate material. Do you feel like¡? >> << Just show me. >> The title of the page appeared in large letters quoting with a winking emoji at the end ¡°The 10 most bizarre fetish sites on the web¡±. His eyes widened in surprise, uttering a simple ¡°oh¡±. Ottavia blushed brightly, avoiding the man''s embarrassed glances. She browsed the peculiar list with descriptions and photos attached under each link, trying not to pay too much attention to those embarrassing contents. But at a certain point a photo, specifically pointed out to her by the policeman, caught her gaze, attracted by familiar elements that she had already seen recently. She told himself it wasn''t possible, but her eyes weren''t wrong: a photo of the victim in her mermaid costume was on that list. Chapter 3 ¡°ThePlaza¡± is a social media platform where people can create a digital profile to use as a sort of diary to share the mundanity of their lives, their opinions on the world, and even their hobbies with acquaintances or strangers. Cynthia Remaut didn''t leave many written posts about what she did, preferring to talk about her days with photos rather than words, in which she always appeared struggling with her job, with people, or simply with her husband, each captioned with a caption of quotes of famous books and films. Her contacts were few, mainly those who knew her personally and had genuinely loved her. ¡°Redlips¡±, instead; is a well-known porn site where men and women can satisfy their sexual cravings through videos, live chat, and other spicy content. It is not among the most famous, but it is certainly among the most popular and appreciated. The peculiarity of this web page is that it mainly collects contents of people who explicitly "showed off" with the strangest fetishes, in addition to the simplest kink; including curvy women eating huge quantities of sweets, private encounters with octopuses, and so on. Oc¨¦ane was something of a star on the site thanks to her kinky (and arousing) sexy siren content. Her persuasive voice, her graceful appearance, and her elegant movements with her fish tail had made her gather as many as 5,000 subscribers who left enthusiastic comments and compliments with each new content released, mainly videos. She was very active on that platform and from her content you could see her commitment to satisfying the strange desires and fantasies of her admirers, trying to take care of her physical appearance in every detail. Amazing how a kindergarten teacher could drastically change her appearance. << A teacher who likes to look after ¡°big¡± children. >> << Officer Polo, have some tact. >> << Excuse me, commissioner... >> << So, Mr. Lemmens. Can you explain your wife''s second job better? >> Jannes remained silent in front of the Commissioner, giving him a sullen expression. His pursed lips refused to open to talk about that secret side of his partner that he had failed to mention... but even if he affected a forced silence, her look expressed all the shame felt by what should have remained a secret. One thing was certain for the commissioner: Jannes could not come out and say that he knew nothing about it. He was also there in most of those videos, playing the role of a human prince madly in love with the sea maiden, as they showed and told in their erotic dramas. << Look Jannes, I''m not incriminating you, okay? But I want you to talk. Even if in your case it is not a crime to produce pornographic material, you still must explain to me why you didn''t tell me about it. Did you happen to want to stage one of your stories and you got carried away? Is this what happened? >> <> Jannes suddenly exclaimed. He slammed his fist hard on the interrogation room table, the rumble produced by the blow made the furniture jump a couple of centimeters off the floor. Commissioner Leoni didn''t bat an eyelid, he had seen more exaggerated reactions than the one inside that room over the years. << It''s true! We made porn videos! And I don''t care what you think! This was work that helped us financially! >> <> << We went through a rough patch a few years ago, due to a scam that took a lot of money away from us. We didn''t know what to do so we dared to take this path. It was both of our ideas, not just mine or just my wife''s. Very embarrassing at the beginning... but then people started to appreciate it and they paid us. >> <> << Yes. And I don''t deny that our sexual life has improved too. >> Jannes smiled as the memories of that absurd path he took with his dear Cynthia resurfaced. The shame of doing something considered disgusting by society had slowly become a sort of game for the two of them, fueled by the compliments and positive criticism of their viewers who also paid large sums to promote their content... the same ones who were now leaving condolence comments. << The night Cynthia died, were you preparing one of your shows? >> << No. Ours was a holiday for a new beginning. >> <> << We had decided to stop. >> <> << By now we were good with the money and our real jobs were becoming more and more demanding. And we also decided to get married¡ this trip was to celebrate a new happy beginning¡ >> The man looked at the Commissioner, hoping that he now finally understood his situation. But he realized from his cold, fixed gaze that, despite having told him the truth, he still didn''t believe him, and this made him angry. <> he asked screaming. << Did you know that she had brought one of her stage costumes? >> asked the Commissioner without being upset. <> << It''s a flashy costume, how did you not notice it? >> <> << Don''t talk nonsense, a dress like this is impossible to ignore. Do you know what I think? In my opinion, it was your wife who wanted to stop making porn videos, while you wanted to continue producing them because it is much more profitable. >> << No! No! It is not true! This is a lie! >> Jannes screamed his innocence over and over, his swollen eyes now almost dry with tears. Finally, he announced that he would no longer speak to them without the presence of a lawyer and that until they had concrete evidence to accuse him of murder since they were so sure of it, they no longer had the right to address him with contempt. Alfio Leoni sighed exhaustedly. He had taken a great risk by accusing murder of that man, so without proof. But he had to try, also to test his reaction. In the end, Ottavia had put the flea in his ear: was he innocent? He hoped he would get a good lawyer. If he hadn''t been able to prove otherwise, he would have had to officially announce the accusation and with what they had now, they would have crushed him in court by declaring his guilt. << Commissioner. In your opinion, did the suspect really kill his wife? >> <>

<< So, the husband entered the register of suspects. >> << Exactly. >> << But you are still convinced that he is innocent. >> << Exactly. >> << ¡And you hope to find proof of his innocence by watching their videos? >> << I''m reading the comments section. You''re the one watching them. >> <> << Yeah, you''re a pervert. >> Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. <> Octavia had photos of Cynthia in her ordinary and performance guise taped to both sides of the screen as she investigated on her own. She couldn''t deny that her discovery intrigued her, but it was certainly embarrassing to rummage through the porn profile of a dead person, especially when she had both her husband and her children at her side (whom she forcibly sent away). He had briefly ¡°spied¡± on one of the many videos to get an idea of ??his work. From time to time pop-ups appeared suggesting other content of a similar nature, presented with charming men posed. None of those handsome figures gave her any kind of desire. They were charming, sure... but she much preferred her husband with his paunch, his broad forehead, and his serious gaze. She soon shifted her attention to the comments of users, who left the most disparate messages and appropriate monetary donations. The mood of the comments changed completely on the main profile wall, now full of notes of condolence and sad emojis: one of the users had published one of the articles regarding the death of their beloved Oc¨¨ane, praising her passing as if it were an ancient poem. Who knows who among those 5,000 fans had anonymously sent the email to the commissioner? Only someone who knew Cynthia''s secret side, as well as had free access to the site, could do so. She had tried searching for the girl via various search engines, but the results yielded only vague descriptions of the contents of ¡°Redlips¡± and no specific names of its users, probably for privacy (and trouble) reasons. << Let''s pretend your theory is correct, darling. That the husband had nothing to do with it. How did she die, then? >> <> << The commissioner said that it was tap water that was inside the lungs. Did she drown in a swimming pool? >> << She was a good swimmer with and without a swimsuit, and she demonstrated it on both public and private profiles. >> << A bathtub, then. >> << Maybe. And if so, the hotel is certainly not the place of the crime. Witnesses confirmed having seen her walking along the seafront on the evening of her death. >> << And the husband? Do they see him too? >> << No, at least that''s how it seems for now. This, however, is not enough to exonerate him. Leoni is having the room they were staying in turned upside down, he wants evidence at all costs, or at this rate, the case won''t be solved. >> <> << The walls, no... but the people, yes. No matter where you go, people can''t help but gossip and here, in a town like Branchlion, the rule is no different. >> << What do you have in mind, darling? >> <> Summer, no matter how hot it might get, couldn''t dampen holidaymakers'' appetites. Those who were able to resist the heat and couldn''t be satisfied with a simple ice cream or a healthy light meal, indulged in delicious meals that satisfied their hunger: pasta, meat, fish... anything was fine. After dinner, many seafront residents used to meet up with relatives or friends to chat. If there had been no desire to walk or find oneself on the crowded beaches, it would have been enough to sit with deckchairs and chairs on the pavements or in the gardens, sharing the weak fresh evening breeze and a drop of liqueur until sleep had knocked on the door. For strangers it was bizarre to see so many people at ease in the middle of the street having a lounge, some even considered it intrusive; but for those who had lived there for years, it was the most normal thing in the world, as well as a pleasant pastime to use for the entire duration of the summer. With the comfort of the garden, Ottavia and Felix welcomed the neighbors they had made friends with, enjoying a space of their own despite the annoying presence of invasive mosquitoes. They all came from different parts of the country, some for holidays and some to enjoy their retirement at the seaside, some in the company of their children or alone, for a change. A couple of them were old friends of Felix, while others were people who had been regularly coming on holiday in the area for a few years, and all of them were enraptured by Ottavia''s beautiful presence, especially the women who wanted at all costs to try to learn to be refined like her. They talked about everything that evening, ranging from gossip to politics to the latest curiosities regarding the country. They deliberately tried to avoid topics related to crime news - which wasn''t easy - but luckily there was no shortage of subjects to talk about that helped distance us from anything related to death. <<... and despite all the promises made, those disgusting houses are still there, ruining the landscape. >> concluded Mrs. Imelda indignantly, a blonde woman in her sixties originally from the area but who lived in the capital. At first glance, she gave the impression of a housewife, but to her surprise, Ottavia had discovered a past as a lawyer and activist, which explained her determined character. << It''s a shame that people''s money is spent on this bullshit - Sorry for the language - and then the municipal council has the nerve to say that it couldn''t have been avoided when they could very well have done it. >> << Am I wrong or did they say that the mafia was behind the building project? >> << Nothing is true. It''s an excuse they made up so they wouldn''t have to admit they screwed up. >> <> << Yes... let''s say that we too are dealing with a fairly incompetent mayor. But in the next elections, the problem should be resolved. Some more Alchermes? >> << Very willingly. >> The guests felt spoiled by Ottavia''s care, the homemade desserts and liqueur were a joy for their palates not accustomed to such special flavors, which occasionally brought back memories of the genuine tastes of their childhood. Thanks to those flavors, the bitterness of a bad day became more bearable and the good mood helped one forget the bad news. In the end, it was what everyone wanted: to live peacefully. Ottavia was satisfied to see her guests at ease, in reality, she too was aiming to obtain involuntary information on the case from them. Some of the women there, particularly the older ones, were so-called town gossip, intense in a good way. More than the mayor or the police, they knew everything that was happening among its 4,000 inhabitants, and they exchanged that information with astonishing speed. To give an example, almost everyone knew from the second day she arrived in Branchlion who she was and what she did for a living. For the moment, she had not yet heard anything useful for her. She had tried to introduce the topic of the mermaid woman case into conversations, but apart from a couple of opinions and displeasures towards the victim, the subject had soon been replaced by other more interesting news. From experience she knew not to insist on the subject when no one wanted to talk about it or there were no reasons to do so, it would have given a strange impression to people and even risked seeming "obsessed" about it, furthermore, she ran the risk of alarming those who was hiding something about the case. She had to be patient and hope that in the end, her evening lounge would give her results. << Ottavia! Ottavia! >> called a voice several times. A rounded, limping figure entered through the gate, energetically waving a hand in greeting, stumbling for a moment on the stone steps that divided the house garden in half. << Mrs. Carmela, good evening. Come in. How are you? >> << Eh, I''m still standing, albeit badly. I''m a useless old woman now. >> <> Mrs. Carmela was a plump, elderly woman who lived two blocks from her home and owned some of the waterfront homes she rented at the time. She was short and round, with gray hair forming a soft bush on her head and small eyes that the drooping eyelids of her old age partially hid. She always wore simple floral-patterned dresses and all her sandals had hard soles that, when she walked, you could hear a long way off before she arrived. She always saw her walking, moving slowly with the crutch that helped her bear the weight of her years and support her weak legs, the few times she sat down it was to chat with the neighbors or the relatives she went to visit. Ottavia felt like describing her as a "concentrate of kindness". She returned everyone''s greetings, if he learned that someone was ill she always asked for news, and if her residents needed something she tried to intervene to solve the problem, even if in reality her children took care of it. She liked that woman who in some ways reminded her of her maternal grandmother. << How are you finding yourself here? Do you like the country? >> she asked her, without using any kind of formal title. She was the only person who bothered to do so, not having been influenced by her heritage as a lady from the metropolis. <> << Good, good! I''m pleased! I was afraid that you would want to leave immediately because of the heat. >> << Oh no, don''t worry. I plan to stay here until the end of the two-month rent. >> << Thank goodness... today I heard that some tourists are leaving. You know¡ because of the murder. This ugly story has created so much discomfort. They canceled the rent in my house too. >> << Oh, I''m sorry. It must be a big deal, economically speaking. >> << Oh yes... but that''s not what makes me saddest. That''s what I heard. >> << That is? >> The lady signaled Ottavia to come closer, discreetly looking around so that others would not hear her words. Ms. Carmela had received rumors of malice towards the victim and her partner, mostly motivated by racist nonsense, as they were foreigners, and others born from slander by evildoers. Most of these people pointed the finger at the deceased''s partner, fueling her rumor that he might have somehow caused her death. Many of the lady''s peers were giving too much credence to this chatter, she on the contrary, even though she was a gossip on her admission; she didn''t believe a single word. Ottavia was not surprised by this; in similar cases, many people immediately accuse the spouse. <> <> <> << Really? >> << How stupid, right? They invented that the girl did dirty things on the computer... what''s her name? That¡ >> << Internet? >> << Yes, that. ¡°Someone,¡± says they saw her doing ¡°something¡±¡ but no one confirms. All malice I tell you, just like the soul of the people who say them.>> <> <> <> << Not this. We always know how much gossip is spread, but never where it started from. >> Wise words, Octavia thought in her mind. She put down the drink and with an excuse went back into the house, promising with a smile to return soon. She returned to the site and did another quick check of the usernames on Oc¨¨ane/Cynthia''s profile, focusing on those who had the most frequent activity in the comments section. None of these gave her a sign, but she was now certain of one thing: one of them not only knew the victim and her double life, but it was also from Branchlion. Chapter 4 << Such a hypothesis is incredible. >> Leoni said in disbelief. << Are you sure it''s not, however, a coincidence? >> << Absolutely not. >> Ottavia replied determinedly. The first thing Ottavia had done early in the morning was call the Commissioner to explain her theory to him. She had almost not slept all night due to her impatience to tell him about her small but important discovery and she also had an example ready to support her hypothesis, based on one of the many police cases that occurred in Brimstone. << This situation is very similar to what happened a few years ago in Brimstone: it was a case of fraud and embezzlement in a well-known company. The police investigations all pointed to a single name, but how this evidence led to the "culprit" was all too providential and this made the investigators suspicious. >> <> << After a careful analysis, they discovered who the real criminal was and that it was precisely this who provided the false clues they found. Their excessive effort in trying to get away with defaming an innocent person by placing the blame on it ended up exposing them to the truth. >> << Wow, what a story. It''s so incredible that it seems like something out of a TV series. >> << Whoever this person is who sent you that message and is spreading gossip, is making the same mistake: in order not to be found, they are excessively trying to sidetrack the investigation. >> The woman had prepared herself to have to fight to defend her trial from the man''s disbelief who, instead; contrary to her expectations, he had shown himself to be very willing to believe her. It was the first time this had happened to her. << Okay, I''ll do as you say. I''ll ask the guys to see if they can find out what area the email was sent from... or whatever way to do it. They are smarter than me with technology. >> << You''ll see that it''s the right direction, I feel like it''s like this. By the way, will you be at the torchlight procession tonight? >> << In my position it''s not a good idea to be there. Among other things, I think it would be very annoying to our only suspect, after the accusation I made against him. >> <> Ottavia ended the call; a shiver ran through her from head to toe. She had no doubts about her hypothesis, but she shouldn''t stop and investigate just because she now had a lead. On the contrary, she had to start moving into gear. The next step was always to figure out where the victim had gone on the night of her death. To find new clues it wasn''t enough to rely only on her gossip, but she hoped that Signora Carmela could still involuntarily help her in this if she managed to hear something new. Her, meanwhile; she would have done the same while keeping her eyes open. That evening the community had decided to organize a wake in honor of Cynthia. The authorities of Branchlion, the citizens, and anyone who wanted to participate, would gather to support Jannes'' mourning. Regardless of the suspicions against him, many believed in his innocence. The wake was also a way to show him that not everyone thought of him negatively. Each held a small candle in their hand. It was the number of flames that made Jannes and Cynthia''s relatives, who had flown in from their country only that morning, realize once they left the hotel how many people were beside them in that difficult moment. As much as they tried to remain stoic, they couldn''t hold back a moving smile and a tired "thank you" to the mayor who, at their side, guided them throughout the ceremony. Starting from the hotel until reaching the local church, a large procession walked in silence along a pre-established route. No one spoke during the march accompanied by the smell of melted wax, a silence that was briefly disturbed by the crying of one or more newborn children. All the time Ottavia observed the people around her, hoping to notice traces of guilt through the dim lights of the candles, but nothing unusual emerged at that time apart from a few tired yawns. Not even in the church, when the parish priest celebrated the funeral mass, the expressions changed... and to think that a murderer could be hiding among those people, she thought. There was a large photo of Cynthia just outside the church entrance, a close-up of her angelic face that perfectly captured her sweet smile and kind eyes. She didn''t care about her sexual secret, about her particular obsession, or what games she played in bed with her husband, not having been a bad person in her life was the most important factor about her, and for this reason, she deserved justice. She promised her in front of God that before the end of the summer she would find whoever had hurt her.

A boat took off amid constant insults from its navigator, irritated by the constant noise of rusty metal that the engine produced. He knew it was old, but he hadn''t imagined it was old enough to be so loud. Out of his irritation, he often punched it, trying to silence it. All he wanted was silence that evening. Every bump of the boat that cut through the waves corresponded to an extra beat of his heart; a couple of times he grabbed his chest convinced that he was about to have a heart attack. The agitation shook him more than the rough sea... or should we say that it was the sense of guilt that made him feel so bad because he was aware that he was doing something wrong. Unfortunately for him, he had made a promise from which he could not back out, an oath based on a bond of brotherhood that he had not been able to turn his back on and which he cared about almost as much as his own life. The lone navigator had moved away for many miles, apart from a few dim lights the coast could barely be seen on the horizon, camouflaged with the dark moonless night perfect for concealing his presence and the act he was about to carry out. Before the clouds allowed the moon''s rays to shine on the sea, he threw a suitcase into the water. Thanks to the stones with which it had been filled he quickly sank, leaving behind a gurgling of bubbles that stopped after a few minutes. He felt a heavy d¨¦j¨¤-vu at that moment. The memory of the similar act already committed worsened his discomfort and he ended up vomiting overboard. He had deluded himself that by getting rid of that burden he could go back to living in peace, but instead, he was still in a bad situation, if not even worse than before. Before that moment he had deluded himself that he could still lead a normal life, but after that night, as he returned to the mainland, he realized that he would never regain his hoped-for normality. He rejected the prospect of constantly living with the anxiety of having to keep secrets. He had to set the record straight.

The next two days were very hectic in the town: the rough sea gave high waves for improvised surfers, a local festival had begun in the town and there was even a friendly improvised beach volleyball match, all fueled by an exhausting hot wind. The strong waves provided continuous hours of play for the teens who enjoyed being continually tossed up and down on their rubber steeds or directly on the shore, overwhelmed by foam and algae, while lifeguards were on the lookout for any swimmers in danger; only the youngest children were forced to stay dry, whose protests fell on deaf ears to their protective parents. However, those who were not comfortable with such a strong current stayed safe in the innermost part of the beach, keeping away from the angry water that tried to take away the more careless ones who dried them or their flip-flops forgotten near its waves, while someone was trying to resist the wind that was forcefully trying to chase everyone away. Felix persisted in reading the newspaper even though the pages kept folding together. He didn''t want to give up, not so much to give up his reading but to have an excuse to ignore the petulant neighbor at the umbrella who did nothing but talk to him about work every time he saw him. Unlike his wife Ottavia, Felix had a normal job as a pharmaceutical representative. His main job was to travel around the country selling products and services, including drugs and medical devices, and he was rarely in the office filling out paperwork like most of his colleagues. The work was not heavy, but certainly very tiring as it often required full days of travel to reach pharmaceutical facilities that were not always close to home. He was satisfied with his job and had no problem talking about it¡ but on vacation, it was a different matter. He didn''t want to hear about market transactions, salaries, or anything that reminded him of the office. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. When he seemed to have reached the point of seeing himself defeated and having to endure another difficult conversation, he glimpsed the splendid figure of his wife returning from her relaxing walk with a friend. Before the neighbor caught him, he rushed to reach his spouse. Acting like an incurable romantic, he proposed that they continue the walk together (making her understand with fleeting glances that she was helping him) with the excuse of spending time together. The friend let them go, struck by so much "love", mistaking Ottavia''s amused giggling for sweet embarrassment. Wife and husband strolled along the shore hand in hand, chatting and enjoying each other''s presence. While they spoke, the world around them disappeared, erased by the love they exchanged in that moment dedicated to them, forgetting at least for a moment their commitments and duties. When they came out of their bubble of affection, they were already far from the lively beach whose noises were muffled by the roar of the waves, in that little-frequented area there were few souls around and almost all along the shore large and cumbersome rocks emerged which partially blocked access to the sea. Even further ahead we could glimpse the small port of Branchlion, a long concrete dock to which some boats, all belonging to fishermen, were docked. The structure extended 20 meters into the sea, in the perpetually immersed part algae had grown into a sort of undulating green carpet in which small mollusks were hiding. Those who could not find a place to dock were forced to drag their boats ashore with winches mounted at the edge of the beach, some giving the impression of not having set sail for a long time due to their abandoned appearance, so much so that they even had some cobwebs on board. The few sailors present were busy fixing the nets or overhauling the boats, while some were arguing with seagulls and stray cats to prevent them from taking what they had caught. A motorboat that was no more than ten meters in length was preparing to reach the port announced by an annoying rusty screech, it was painted a dull sky blue and a flag with torn edges stood out on top of the cockpit. Felix greeted his owner as he emerged onto the forward deck, stopping him before he could throw out the docking line. Alberto, the owner of Lido Saturno, reciprocated with a radiant smile. << Hey Matteo, what are you doing around here? Are you taking the lady for a walk? >> the man asked him. << We stay on our own for a while. >> he replied, thoughtfully embracing her companion. << Why did you go out today? No restaurant jobs? >> << My relatives will take care of it, today is my day off. I took the opportunity to try to fish something and move ¡°Grandpa¡± a little. >> << Grandpa? >> << It''s the name of the boat. >> <> <> <> Felix knew they were just excuses. Since he had inherited the ship, Alberto was very jealous of it and was not always willing to let people on board, regardless of whether they were strangers or even his relatives. All it took was a little encouragement (and a thousand promises not to cause harm) to convince him. << What do you think, darling? Are you feeling it? >> << More than willingly. >> Felix felt foolish for thinking that Ottavia would refuse such an offer. She was a gentlewoman who grew up with a somewhat rigid upbringing, but she was not someone who held back when it came to experimenting or trying new experiences. You could see the enthusiasm on her face and that made her even more beautiful. When the boat took off, she rotated her head between the receding land and the sea that opened in front of her, the wind stirred her red hair so much that it looked like a living flame, and the drops of water splashed on her and made her skin shiny. The man could waste hours admiring her and, in those moments, he was grateful to heaven for having been lucky enough to meet such a beautiful, as well as wonderful, woman. Now and then, Alberto slowed down the speed to indicate some areas of particular interest on the coast, even if in the distance the landscape stood out enough to give the illusion of being able to touch it with his hand. Unfortunately, the seabed was indistinguishable due to the rough surface, when the current was calmer, he stated that it was possible to see large schools of tuna, sea turtles, and even the remains of ancient ships sunk more than 300 years ago. Felix thought about how many times he had heard those details that made Branchlion an interesting place and how he appreciated them more now than when he had been a young boy. It was all very nostalgic, and he was happy that his wife was interested in it. <> Ottavia suddenly asked, pointing to a specific point. Felix followed the direction and noticed that there was indeed a sailing ship lying on the beach, in a state of decay. << Yes ma''am, a sailing boat to be precise. It belonged to a guy with money who came to these parts three years ago, but it seems that he didn''t know how to handle it and ended up in the sand. No one was hurt, fortunately. >> <> << He didn''t have the money to repair it and left it there, rotting on the beach. Unfortunately, we can''t even remove it because that area is private property. >> <> << Dunno, I have no idea anymore. Once they say about the municipality, another time they say about the mafia... it''s no longer clear. >> << Oh. So those nearby are the famous illegal houses that everyone complains about. >> << Exactly. A great example of money misspent. >> Eight rectangular mustard-colored entrance buildings stood just beyond the abandoned vessel, partially hidden by a brick wall and thick bushes that had grown too tall. They were the only buildings nearby, everything else was occupied by groves of citrus trees whose scent invaded the nearby highway, the pride of the local farmers. No one had appreciated that a good portion had been deforested to make room for those horrors, especially now that there was no permit to live there due to their illegality. Probably, whoever designed them had thought that by staying in such a particular area they would earn a lot of money. Now, most certainly, they were mourning the financial loss. Once the boat ride was over, Alberto asked the couple if he could have the pleasure of inviting them to dinner that evening. Since their arrival they had promised each other that they would all be able to sit at the table together and considering that it was his day of rest, they could take advantage of it. They agreed without problems, a quiet evening of food, a chat, and friendship didn''t hurt anyone. Back at the port, the fishy smell had become more intense. A group of fishermen had just returned from a successful catch and were showing off their catch by holding them up in the air like trophies, some of them still partially alive. Instinctively Felix and Alberto rushed to admire the catch like when they were children who challenged each other to touch the ones with the ugliest faces. Felix realized almost immediately that his wife had not followed him, remaining near the boat. << Ottavia? Is everything okay, darling? >> he asked. She turned around smiling, showing off her gold-rimmed glasses. <> was her response. Great, he thought. Everything was fine.

Felix, Ottavia, and their children had stopped to eat at the Lido Saturno restaurant several times since their arrival in town, and that evening too the quality of the food was high. As a good restaurant located by the sea, fish was the main protagonist of the menu and for those who were fond of it the freshness was immediately noticeable with strong flavors, dishes were rarely taken away still half full and in the empty ones, there were almost not even crumbs left. The place was not luxurious, but many customers, especially in the evening service, were elegantly dressed, especially the ladies. Perhaps influenced by this aspect, some had no problem ordering the most expensive wines that best suited the dishes or leaving tips for the waiters even though it was not obligatory. Almost every evening the place was full and it was not unusual for the staff to often be forced to send people away due to lack of space, the regulars knew that it was better to book well in advance if they wanted to have a place to eat. One table was as good as another, but the best were certainly those overlooking the sea. The table that the family shared with the Viennas was precisely one of those. They talked, ate, laughed, and joked, all aspects that made a pleasant dinner. << How about we go fishing together one of these days, Matteo? When do we get to spend time together again, like in the old days? >> <> << Bring the kids too, then. The more the merrier. >> << Excellent idea. We''ll teach them some fishing and sea tricks. >> Felix didn''t notice the annoyed looks of his children, forced to hold back their grumbling so as not to make a bad impression. <> << It wouldn''t be bad... we could even do it. >> <> << Look, this stuff costs money, it''s not like buying a net of onions. >> << Do you often go on boat trips? I couldn''t help but notice that it had a "used" look. >> <> << Wow, you really love it. >> For a moment Felix seemed to notice something strange in Ottavia''s manner. She was asking questions in her typical inquiring tone when she wanted to investigate a person who, in her opinion, was hiding something. Yet, she was composed and calm, while on those occasions she stood stiff as a statue and with a fixed and severe gaze, she wasn''t even fiddling with the small red stone hanging from her golden necklace, a habit she had when she was concentrated or thoughtful. Maybe he was wrong... maybe it was just an impression. At a certain point, his wife''s phone rang and she politely took leave of the others to go away and answer it. She exited the restaurant, turning just a little to the left of the entrance so that family and friends couldn''t see her from where they were sitting. In reality, there was no one on the phone, because of the music in the restaurant Felix had confused the ringtone of the call with that of the messages. In any case, it was a good excuse for Ottavia to breathe a sigh, but it wasn''t one of relief. On the contrary, she served to release some of the anxiety that had been gathering in her chest. All day she had kept a small plastic bag hidden in her bag with a fake nail inside, painted in blue and purple and on which two small diamonds were glued. Finding such an ornate fake nail on a boat was just strange¡ but what made the find truly alarming was that that type of nail was the same one the victim was wearing on the day of her death. She couldn''t believe that such evidence could be found on board her husband''s friend''s boat... was it possible that Alberto was involved? Ottavia rarely got upset, but that little piece of plastic had sent her into a panic. For Felix''s sake, she hoped instead that it was a colossal coincidence. Ottavia paused from her thoughts, stroking the wedding ring on her finger. She got straight to the point: Was Antonio Vienna involved in the murder of Cynthia Remaut? Due to the friendship that bound him to Felix, he hoped not. But she couldn''t decide his innocence like that, based on emotion alone, she thought. Now, the right thing to do would have been to hand over the evidence to the police, but doing so would have jeopardized the reputation of a possibly innocent man. If he was involved, then it would be up to her to find out.