The murder mystery podcast The story unfolds each week.
Will you guess the killer? On the Murder Mystery podcast
it's the Rome Conspiracy episode one, the crowds thin out
slightly as Olivia and Poppy turn away from the Piazza di San
Bernardo and down a side Rd. For this last but one evening of
their holiday. Poppy had insisted that they go
to the poshest place she could find in Rome.
The girl is excited. As they reach the vast entrance
of the Hotel Roma. They are shown to an enormous
white room in the centre of the building, with a high roof that
lets the evening sun cascade onto the opposite wall.
Poppy gets them a table in the middle of the room and orders
champagne. The mother and daughter talk
about Rome and other cities. Their conversation is
interrupted by a group of people entering the restaurant, who
raise a hubbub around them as they move into the room.
Who are they? Says Poppy.
They look important. Olivia shrugs.
One of the men in the group starts to wander through the
tables and talk to the nearby diners and after a minute
approaches Olivia and Poppy's table.
Ladies, he says. Welcome to the hotel Roma, are
you enjoying yourselves? He is tall with bright shining
dark eyes and wearing a blue handmade suit.
They both smile at him. Yes, thank you, says Olivia.
I am Tomaso Moreno. He watches their faces with an
expectation, but they don't react.
And he adds, This is one of my family's hotels.
Ah, says Olivia. It's beautiful, Grazia, he says.
Are you staying here for a holiday?
We've only got two nights left. Says Poppy.
Looking serious? We're not staying here.
Then we're near the Trevi. Then let me offer you rooms in
the hotel room before you have to leave.
He says. He looks at Poppy, then turns
and smiles at Olivia. Brilliant.
Says Poppy. Before Olivia has a chance to
say anything, Tomaso raises a hand to the Matroid Hotel, who
hurries over to them. The two men talk quickly in
Italian and Olivia only understands half of it, but
enough to know that the owner has told the man to arrange the
best sweets for them. All of that is arranged, says
Tomasse. Tonight and tomorrow, at no
cost. My pleasure.
The speed of the arrangements has left Olivia suspicious.
We'll only need one night, Senora.
She says we'll. Stay at our own head till
tonight. Olivia doesn't need to look at
Poppy to perceive her disappointment.
Tomasso bows his head. As you wish, senora.
What names should we put on the booking?
Olivia and Poppy St. Perhaps we'll see each other
tomorrow. He says.
He looks at each of the women and smiles, then walks off to
the group he arrived with, who are now sitting at their table.
Smooth. Says Poppy.
A bit too, Smith says her mother.
A waiter comes to their table and they order.
When Olivia tells the receptionist later at their own
hotel, but they'll be checking out a day early, the man tells
her that the Hotel Roma has already been in touch with them
and that their luggage will be transferred in the afternoon.
All of this rush to get things done makes Olivia slightly wary,
but she doesn't say anything to her daughter.
They spend their last day in Rome touring the Old City, and
then Poppy wants to go to the Via del Corso to do some
shopping. By the time they get to the
Hotel Roma, it's nearly 5:00 and they're taken up to their rooms
by a young Italian bellboy. The rooms are vast, and on the
top floor they can see the Vatican, Castell, Saint Angelo,
and the villable Gaze as they look out across the umber gold
and red pallet of the Italian capital.
After she has showered and is getting dressed, there's a knock
on Olivia's bedroom door. It's the bellboy with a thick
cream envelope, which he hands to her.
She walks to the window and pushes her finger under the flap
on the hotel's headed notepaper. The words invite her and Poppy
to cocktails in the bar at 7:00. At the bottom, the letter is
signed with one word to Masa. At just after 7, Olivia walks to
Poppy's door and knocks, but there's no answer.
She messages her daughter and a reply comes straight back.
I've gone down already, mum. Olivia takes the lift to the
ground floor and finds the bar, which is as large as the
restaurant and set along the back of the hotel.
Sun streams in through a dozen tall windows, highlighting the
gold and blue of the room. The place is half full and
everyone is dressed to impress. Olivia walks the length of the
bar before she sees Tomaso and Poppy sitting in an area that is
roped off at the far end of the room.
Senora Olivia. He says loudly as he leans to
undo the red rope barrier. Poppy wanted champagne so we
have this bottle of Dom Roenard 2009.
He picks up an empty flute, fills it and hands it to Olivia.
Salute. Your daughter was telling me
that you're a lawyer, he says. Yes, commercial law.
And are you, Poppy, going to follow in your mother's
footsteps as a lawyer? No thanks, That's not my cup of
tea. What is your cup of tea?
Hotel management, maybe? His eyes light up and Olivia's
face looks surprised. I have a daughter too, about the
same age, says Tomasa. She's 17.
You'll meet her in a minute. She and I are having dinner
tonight as her mother's away. Does your daughter want to take
over from you and run the hotels?
Says Olivia. I don't know what she wants.
They talk on about the hotel industry and Poppy is duly
attentive. After some time, she excuses
herself saying she's going to the bathroom.
What cases are you currently working on, Olivia?
He says. As Poppy disappears through the
now more crowded bar, none at the moment.
She says. I work freelance, so I need to
find more work when I get back to the UK.
An opportunity then, he says. There is a smaller matter I need
sorting out. It needs someone who would bring
fresh eyes to the problem. Someone.
Someone who has not been involved with the Marina hotels
before. And why is that?
She says. Tomaso looks to each side of him
as though checking for anyone who is overhearing their
conversation. But it's more done for show, she
thinks. He leans in towards her.
I need someone I can trust, he says.
What is this small matter, Tomas?
It would take me some time to explain.
It he says. Why don't we discuss it
tomorrow? We fly out tomorrow, but you
have no boss waiting for your return.
One more night wouldn't upset your plans too much, would it?
He says. She considers his words, then
says give me some idea of the issue, let's sit.
He holds out his arm towards 2 chairs and they drop down into
them. I am the elder of my father's
children and the only one involved with the hotels.
I have a sister who lives in Spain, but she's not interested
in the business. My father is nearly eighty.
He notices Olivia's eyebrows raise.
My mother was his second wife was she died nearly 20 years
ago. Olivia waits for him to
continue. He wrote his will years ago and
it has always said that the hotels come to me.
My sister would inherit 2 houses in Spain which our family owns
and she's inherit cash so she would still be a rich woman.
However, a couple of months ago my father started talking about
changing the terms of the will so that Savannah would get a
controlling interest in the hotels so she would be in
charge. He nods slightly.
I believe my father is being forced to change the will under
duress. You've asked him, presumably,
says Olivia, many times. He only lives in Trustaverle, 20
minutes away. Says to Masa.
I go over and try to convince him, but he won't hear of it.
Did he give you a rationale for this proposed change?
Just fairness, says Tommaso flatly.
What do you think happened to change his mind?
She says. Savannah's got a new boyfriend,
Gabriel. I think he is behind this.
What could I do to help there? She says.
I don't know anything about Italian inheritance laws.
You could find out what really happened to convince him
quietly, ask some questions. Olivia takes a deep breath out.
I'd pay you double your normal rate, plus expenses.
He says, watching her face. And you can stay here at the
Hotel Roma. Here's my offer.
She says. I'll stay until the end of the
week. You tell me all the details, all
the wrinkles, no matter how bad you think they are.
By Friday I'll confirm if I'll take the job, if I don't think I
can help then I'll say no. He nods.
OK, I'll pay you up front for the week.
She hands him the version of her business card that has her bank
details on it and he hands her his own card.
There's a number on there for my assistant Amara.
He says pointing to the card. She can help you with the
background and my diary. Poppy returns, smelling of
peppermint chewing gum. Within a minute, a tall girl
with bright eyes walks over to them across the crowded bar.
Hi, Dad. She says.
And Tomaso introduces Olivia and Poppy to his daughter Sophia.
They all chat for 5 minutes, then Tomaso makes their excuses
and the father and daughter go off to dinner.
Olivia and her daughter eat in a restaurant next door to the
hotel that Poppy saw earlier during the evening.
Olivia explains that she'll be staying longer in Rome, but the
girl still has to go back to the UK tomorrow for school.
Poppy wants to stay too, but Olivia has to insist.
In the end, they agree that Poppy can come back next weekend
to visit her mother. Poppy drinks too many margaritas
and they go up to their rooms. At about 11, Olivia opens the
French windows to the balcony of her room and walks out to look
across night time Rome. Lights rise up into the sky from
1000 bars, cafes and restaurants for as far as she can see.
As she stands there she hears her phone start to ring from the
bedroom and she goes back inside.
Olivia looks at the screen but it is number unknown.
She's on the verge of ignoring it when she stops and thinks it
could be another work offer, so she answers.
Hello, she says. Olivia.
Says a man's voice. Who's this to Marcel, I need
your help. Something terrible has happened.
His voice sounds dead serious. What is it?
She says. My father.
What about him? He's dead, Olivia.
A terrible attack. Ferocious, awful attack.
When did this happen? Half an hour ago, maybe.
I only arrived 10 minutes ago. Where are you?
At his home. The Villa Moreno.
I came to talk to him about the will again, he says.
Have you called the police? Not yet.
Why on earth not? She says.
And call an ambulance. He could still be alive and they
could bring him back to Masse. I'll call them, but can you come
here, be my lawyer? They'll think I did it.
Haven't you got a lawyer? She says.
I normally use my father's lawyer, Lorenzo Esposito, but
she waits. But he doesn't finish the
sentence. Call him too, to deal with the
police when they arrive. I didn't kill him, Olivia.
OK, you must believe me. I'll do what I can, she says.
I'll call a cab now.