An officer asks me more questions after leading us to a table away from the nosy rubberneckers and whispering voices.
Besnik sits beside me and gives the officer his recollection of the evening. I give the polizia information on my papa and myself. They say they will call me with updates when they have them. It’s an active case.
What does that mean? My father is dead. That means now I’m basically an orphan. Tears that started as a trickle now pour down my face. Like a tsunami, the grief swallows me up as I realize that I’m totally alone in this world.
Besnik helps me to my room and says he’ll come get me in the morning for breakfast. Food is the last thing I’m interested in as I lay my head on the thick down pillow and dry my eyes with the sheet.
Like a toddler with their favorite security blanket, I cling to the duvet comforter and pull it around myself like it’s my invisibility shield.
I shudder but I’m not cold. I long for sleep to envelop me and save me from this all-consuming grief.
I’m tired and yet I’ve done nothing. I close my eyes and remember Papa telling me to be nice to mama and stop being a bratty teenager. I cry out of guilt for every time I sassed her. Now with Papa, I regret that he will never see me married or enjoy his grandchildren.
The memories I have of him teaching me to ride a bike and attending my graduation at the local university and the incredible smile on his face. He was so proud, he bragged to everyone on the street as we made our way to a small private party afterwards.
And now it’s all gone. The memories bring on another round of tears and gut-wrenching cries fill the empty room. I fall asleep out of exhaustion, but you can bet your last euro that I’ll be asking questions when I get up.
Iwake to the sound of service carts being wheeled down the hallway. It’s unnatural knowing that Papa won’t be coming to pick me up for coffee and breakfast on our way to the ski slopes.
I call the concierge and have him put me through to the local coroner’s office where I speak to a man by the name of Ramon. His Italian is pretty good, for a foreigner, and that’s why they all speak Italian, otherwise we’d never get anything done in Italy with all the language barriers.
“No, Miss. The coroner worked all night, it was busy for some reason and,” he pauses I assume to pull a report, “your father’s cause of death shows cardiac arrest.”
“That’s not possible. He didn’t have any heart issues. I know this,” I practically yell into the phone, but my passion for the truth is lost on him.
“Can I have the coroner do it again? He must have missed something.”
“Miss, he’s busy and that would be a private matter and cost you a pretty penny.”
Shit.
I can’t bring Papa back, but I can do my best to find out what happened. I owe him that.
Looking at my rose gold Gucci watch, it’s only seven-thirty in the morning and the police station should be hopping. I’ll take my chances. They’ll probably tell me they don’t have any leads on who might have wanted my father dead.
I reach for the hotel phone and pause. Did I just think that? That my papa might have been murdered? And if he was, am I safe?
I sit on the edge of the unmade bed. It’s a good thing this is a hotel because I hate making my bed.
What does Besnik know and what were the two of them into? I think it’s time I find out more about my father’s time away from home.
Against my better judgement, I call the police station and rant and rave until they give me the police captain and he tells me that unless the coroner finds something suspicious, the case is closed.
“Do you have something you’d like to report?”
“Me? Why do you ask?”
“Well. . . you seem pretty determined to find a reason other than natural causes so it only begs me to ask, do you know something we don’t?”
“No, I don’t know anything. Do you?”
“Hum, well…” I have the sneaky suspicion he’s not going to fill in the blanks for me.
I’ve got nothing.
My years of being lax and letting Papa get away with bullshit answers isn’t helping me when I need the details of his life, the life he had on the streets with. . . Besnik.
He’s here, alive, and can shed some light on my situation.