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Marco smiled and looked over the menus, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “That’s the beauty of small towns. Everyone knows each other, and if someone doesn’t show up for their usual table on a Tuesday, people notice.”

As he was talking, a waitress came by and poured water into their glasses. “Special today is wild mushroom risotto,” she said brightly, “with local herbs and a bit of truffle oil.”

Marco gave a polite nod but barely glanced at the menu. “We’ll take three.”

As she walked away, Alice leaned in. “So, what’s our next move?”

Marco lowered his voice. “I’ve already requested background info on Jonathan from Interpol’s liaison office. If there’s anything suspicious in his past—academic feuds, legal trouble—it’ll come up.”

Alice’s expression turned serious. “Thanks, Marco. There are still so many questions.”

James nodded, “yeah. For starters — why was Leonardo in the same room as Vittoria? Did she invite him in? Or did he have a key? There’s no sign of forced entry.”

He paused, then continued, voice low and focused. “Second — why are there two different sets of strangulation marks on Vittoria’s neck? One from a telephone cord, the other possibly from rope. If the strangulation killed her, then why stab her beforehand? What was the purpose of that?”

Alice frowned, her fork hovering in midair.

“And third,” Marco went on, “how did the murderer escape? My team found no other exits at the scene. The door was locked from the inside. Windows too — latched shut, no signs of tampering. It’s a locked-room mystery.”

“And lastly,” James added, his tone tightening, “the timing. The housekeepers say they saw Vittoria alive at 6 a.m. Leonardo was seen leaving his hotel at the same time — meaning the earliest he could’ve arrived is 6:10. That gives us, what — twenty minutes? Between 6:10 a.m and 6:30 a.m.”