An Insignificant Case

Chapter Twenty-Eight

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Charlie drove into Guido’s barnyard, and Elin followed close behind in her car. A police officer walked over to Charlie’s car. Charlie lowered his window and showed the officer his bar card.

“I’m Guido’s lawyer.” Charlie pointed toward Elin, who was getting out of her car. “That’s my assistant, Elin Crane.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Webb. I recognize you.”

“Is my client in the barn?”

The officer nodded. “He’s painting away. My partner is watching him.”

“Have you had any trouble?”

The officer shook his head. “It’s been real peaceful.”

“I hope it stays that way,” Charlie said as he got out of the car and headed for the barn, with Elin close behind.

A second officer stood up when Charlie and Elin walked into the barn. Guido stopped painting.

“It’s okay, Rhonda,” the first officer said. “This is Mr. Sabatini’s lawyer.”

“Mr. Webb, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Guido asked.

“I wanted to introduce you to the latest addition to your defense team, Elin Crane.”

Guido started to smile. Then he frowned. Seconds later, he was smiling again.

“I am charmed, Signorina Crane.” Guido turned to Charlie. “Why have you brought this lovely woman here?”

“She’s going to help you write your biography so we can prepare for the penalty phase of your trial, if that becomes necessary.”

“Ah, but it will not, because you are going to win my case at trial.”

“We’ve been over this before, Guido. Henry and I would be judged incompetent if we didn’t assume the worst and prepare for a penalty phase. Elin won’t interfere with your painting. She’ll interview you while you paint.”

Elin beamed an irresistible smile at the artist. “I love your work, and I’m excited to see you create a painting from scratch. I promise I’ll try to not be a distraction.”

Guido hesitated. He studied Elin, and the frown returned. Then he shrugged.

“Very well. You have an interesting face. Perhaps I will put you in one of my paintings.”

“That would be an honor,” Elin said.

“I’ll leave you two,” Charlie said. “See you back at the office, Elin.”

Charlie left. Elin seated herself on a hay bale and took a legal pad out of a book bag she’d carried into the barn. She thought Guido might resent being recorded.

“What are you working on?” Elin asked.

“A street scene in Siena. Have you ever been there?”

Elin nodded. “I spent a month in Italy and France. I liked Siena, but I loved Florence and Venice.”

“Ah, Venezia. My heart is always there.”

“It must be, given how many of your paintings are set there. Tell me, did you travel while you were in college or grad school?”

“Both.”

“Is that when you started painting?”

“I have always painted, but mathematics distracted me.”

“It sounds like you had a great career as a mathematician. Why did you stop?”

Guido lowered his paintbrush and stared at the wall of the barn, lost in thought.

“The numbers were too much for me,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. “They went on and on. String theory, multiple dimensions, infinity. It was overwhelming. They never ended. I needed something that would stay still. My paintings are frozen in time. They bring me peace.”

“What did your parents think when you gave up your academic career?”

Guido’s features darkened. “I do not want to discuss my parents.”

“You didn’t get along?”

“Miss Crane, please do not persist in this line of questioning.”

“Okay. I didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk about your career as a gambler? It sounds like you were very good.”

Guido smiled. “That is true. I was able to compete with some excellent players of poker.”

“Did your proficiency at mathematics help?”

“Of course. But a firm grasp of psychology is even more important.”

“Why did you stop?”

Guido laughed. “It became too hazardous to continue. Dangerous people resented the fact that I was smarter than they were, and I received threats. Sometimes these people tried to take action, but”—and here Guido smiled—“I was prepared.”

“I’ve read that you were a consistent winner at blackjack.”

“That is true. I have a great ability to count the cards in the game of blackjack. This ability does not please the people who own the casinos, so they banned me.” Guido shrugged. “As I said, the playing of cards became too dangerous, so I stopped.”

“You seem to have good instincts for avoiding danger. Doesn’t holding on to the items you took from Miss Hall’s safe put you in danger?”

“Everyone seems to think so.”

“Don’t you worry that there will be more attempts on your life? You’ll be safe if you turn over what you took to the district attorney. Mr. Webb seems to think he might be able to make a deal with the DA so you won’t have to go to trial if you give the prosecutor what you took.”

“That is what many people say.”

“I can see how important painting is to you. Your trial could last weeks, even months. You won’t be able to paint very much while your case is being tried. Doesn’t it make sense to turn over the items from the safe?”

Guido closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I am tired. I will go into my house and take a nap. Thank you for visiting me.”

Guido’s refusal to discuss turning over the items from the safe was frustrating.

“When do you want to continue?” Elin asked when it became obvious that Guido was done talking to her.

“I will let Mr. Webb know when I am ready,” Guido said as he cleaned his paintbrush. “Now I must sleep to regain my strength.”

Guido walked out of the barn, and the officers followed him into his house. Elin watched them go, her lips drawn in a tight line.