Page 18

The bedroom was dimly lit by the morning sun filtering through lace curtains. The air inside was still and heavy, as though the room itself hadn’t breathed since the murder. A faint metallic scent of dried blood lingered in the corners.

Vittoria’s bed was already made, the sheets neatly tucked and the pillows arranged with care—likely the work of the housekeepers after the body had been removed. Near the telephone on the nightstand, however, the coiled cord lay snapped and frayed—its end darkened where it had been used to strangle her. The carpet near the foot of the bed told a different story: a faint, lingering stain from the wound on Leonardo's abdomen, cleaned but not completely erased.

Alice stepped lightly, surveying the room with sharp eyes. “Nothing seems out of place,” she murmured. “No signs of forced entry. No valuables touched.”

James knelt near the bloodstain, examining the way it had seeped beneath the doorframe. “That's right, and this is what the niece and his wife saw?”

Marco nodded. “Yes. Said they heard a scream when they returned around 6:30 a.m. That’s what made them open the door with keys.”

James stood, brushing his hands together thoughtfully. “She was killed quickly—no signs of a struggle, nothing knocked over. Everything’s too orderly. That suggests she knew the killer… someone she trusted enough to let get close.” He glanced over at Marco. “And you said the housekeepers used a key to get in that morning… so the door was locked from the inside?”

Marco gave a slow nod. “Yes. They said they knocked first, but no one answered. And then they used their key to open it. The door wasn’t forced — just locked from the inside."

James frowned, pacing slowly around the room as his eyes scanned every detail. “That narrows it down. Either the killer had a key, or Vittoria — or Leonardo — locked the door after entering… but that doesn’t quite add up. If it was locked from the inside, how did the murderer get out?”

Alice, standing by the window, turned slightly. “Could they have jumped out from here?”

James walked over and joined her, peering down. The drop was about two stories, ending in a narrow patch of overgrown grass and stone. He squinted. “Possible, but risky. If they landed wrong, they'd have broken something. Any reports of injuries or limping?”