The Frame

Wayan took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Take it from a former detective that not calling the police was a big mistake. Police officers know that finding a body is a traumatic experience. Their training teaches them that anyone who doesn’t call the police or ask for medical assistance has a reason for waiting. Phone them now. Don’t worry about the resort’s reputation.” “I wasn’t worried about that; I was concerned that the police would think I killed them.” “Why? What am I missing?” “The dead man is my ex-husband, and the young woman is a call girl. I know because I arranged for her to come to the mansion.” “You arranged a prostitute for the man you divorced? Go slow, tell me about your ex-husband, and explain everything you know about this situation. Let’s start with his name,” Wayan said. “Is it Bello?” “It’s Ercole Mazza.” “Was Bello your surname before you married?” Anna nodded that it was. “Where did your ex-husband live? It’s not in Bali since he’s staying at the resort.” “He lived in Trieste, Italy. I'm originally from there.” “His age?” “Sixty-two.” “Occupation?” “He owned a shipbuilding company. He recently sold it.” “Children?” “None.” “How long were you married?” “I married him in 1994 at eighteen. We divorced six years later.” “Why?” “Because the only bed he didn’t sleep in was mine.” “Did you want to keep that streak alive by arranging for him to sleep with another woman? That makes no sense and sounds suspicious because that’s the reason you divorced him,” Wayan said disbelievingly. “If it looks that way to me, it also will to the police. How do I delicately ask this question?” “A threesome?” Anna asked. “No. That’s disgusting.” “Not any more than hiring a prostitute for your ex-husband.” “Regardless, I didn’t kill them, and I don’t know how they died.” Wayan looked closely at the bodies. “I don’t see blood or a wound. Therefore, I doubt they were shot, stabbed with a knife, or bludgeoned. Since their faces are contorted, I’m betting they were poisoned. The champagne and tin of caviar beside them would be my guess how it was introduced into their bodies.” “That's why the police will think I did it.” “Explain that to me.” “I was helping the kitchen staff and delivered the champagne and caviar.” “Do you help in the kitchen often?” “On occasion.” “A prostitute in bed with your husband, preparing and delivering one or more items which may have contained the poison, and waiting to call the police. They have enough to arrest you,” Wayan conceded. “You need a talented lawyer,” Eka added. “Even though everything showing I’m the killer is circumstantial, I don’t believe any lawyer is good enough to win this case at trial. If I were on a jury and listened to what the prosecutor will likely say, I’d vote to convict. That’s why I need you both to find the killer.” Wayan said as he looked closely at Anna. “You’re holding something back. Tell us what it is.” “I’ve told you everything.” “No, you haven’t. I was a detective far too long not to know when someone isn’t giving me the entire story. You’re flinching, backing away with your arms crossed, and glancing past instead of at me. Those are classic signs that someone is dishonest or holding something back. Since I’ll take your word that you didn’t kill anyone, that narrows it down to concealing something from me.” “Tell him, Anna,” Eka said encouragingly. "The police will eventually find out," Wayan added. "I worked with many of the current detectives. They’re exceptionally good at their job. If Eka and I are going to clear you, they can't learn about something before us." Anna cleared her throat and looked towards Eka, who came over and held her friend’s hands between hers. "Let's go back," Wayan said, changing course to ratchet the tension down. “Why is your ex-husband here? He could have chosen any number of great hotels in Bali. This wasn’t a coincidence.” Tears started running from Anna’s eyes. “This isn’t the first time he’s stayed here. We were reconciling.” "The police, and the prosecutor getting this case, will believe that's a convenient story concocted by a guilty party since the only person who can corroborate it is dead. Even if they go along with it, the prosecutor might spin it to the jury that the reconciliation fell flat, and you got jealous of the prostitute and poisoned them. They might also say that you were only reconciling to get his money and was afraid that the bimbo in his bed was going to get it instead of you." “I don’t care about Ercole’s money. He wrote me a big check when we divorced.” “How big?” “Twenty-five million dollars.” Wayan looked as if someone slapped him in the face. Eka registered her surprise when her mouth opened slightly, and her eyes widened. “You’ve worked at this resort for a long time,” Eka said. “Why, if you don’t need the money?” “I’ve worked at the resort for seventeen years, but that was by choice and not necessity. After my divorce settlement, my attorney’s law firm presented me with an opportunity from one of their branded apparel clients who wanted to license their name to a world-class Asian resort which the licensee would build." "You designed and built this resort," Eka said, her voice showing surprise that her friend hadn't told her any of what she'd just heard. “I did.” “How much of it do you own?” “All of it.” “The rumor is that a Saudi prince or Japanese billionaire owns it.” “I started those rumors.” “Does anyone besides us know about your ownership?” “My attorneys and accountants. Technically, the resort is owned by an offshore corporation that I own.” “How much is this resort worth?” Wayan asked. “The most recent appraisal for insurance purposes puts the replacement cost at sixty million dollars.” “And you don’t want the staff to know because …?” Wayan asked, his voice trailing off to show it was a question. “My relationship with them would change from being an employee and part of the family to one of owner-employee. I like the current dynamic.” “Why don’t you live in one of these mansions? Come to think of it, where do you live?” “In the cliffside villa next to the one in which you and Eka are staying. I intended to move into this mansion with Ercole once we reconciled. We spoke about adopting children and felt this would be the perfect home.” “You said he sold his shipbuilding company in Italy. I assume he received a pile of cash.” “He didn’t receive the cash; his foundation did. Ercole transferred the company’s shares into it before the transaction closed. It gave him tax advantages. I’m on the board of the foundation, but I don’t want to get into that now.” “Not a suitable answer for someone trying to help you. Do you control the foundation now that he’s dead?” “Yes, although there’s another board member. I have three of the five votes.” “That will look extraordinarily bad to the police.” “I’m aware.” “For the moment, keep the foundation and the sale of the company to yourself. If the police ask you about either, answer honestly. What about the prostitute?” “She frequents the bar. In the past, I’ve asked her and others in her profession to leave if I believe they’re soliciting or annoying our guests. If they’re here to have a drink, they’re welcome to stay. This lady,” Anna said, pointing to the dead prostitute, “respected my rules, and I got to know her.” “And you asked her to have sex with your husband?” “No. As Ercole and I discussed reconciling, I came up with a plan to be with him at night and not arouse suspicion from the staff that we were involved. A single man staying in one of these mansions, a trek from the main part of the resort and its amenities, warrants attention. After all, he didn’t need the space and could get the same view from a cliffside villa at a fraction of the price.”