Page 102 of Twisted Lies
‘No.’
‘Menaggio?’
‘No.’
‘Varenna?’
Hesitation. ‘Yes, that’s the one. Trisha fell in love with the area.’
Frost put in a Google search for Varenna and hit the top article. The place was a municipality in the Province of Lecco, just short of forty miles north of Milan and covered an area of approximately four square miles.
‘They went back a couple of times, I think,’ Penny continued. ‘Same village, same guesthouse that had a view of some monastery or villa or something.’
‘Villa Monastero?’ Frost asked excitedly as she continued reading the Wikipedia article. It was a Cistercian convent founded in the twelfth century, which was now a museum, botanical gardens and convention centre.
‘Yeah, that sounds right. I remember one time Nick booked a trip for her birthday and then cancelled it when he found out she’d met me for a coffee.’
Frost felt her hackles rise at the casual cruelty the man had employed to keep Trisha under control.
‘Sorry but I can’t remember anything else.’
‘You’ve been a great help, Penny. Thanks for your time,’ Frost said, ending the call. It was a starting point, and maybe all was not lost after all.
She put a basic search into Google for guest houses in the area she’d been given.
Maybe this place she loved had provided Trisha with the confidence to say something to someone. Maybe she’d felt comfortable enough to open up in a place that was familiar to her yet distant enough from her daily life.
Well, judging by her Internet search she had twenty-two opportunities to explore.
She called the number of the first guest house on the list.
It was answered almost immediately.
‘Excuse me but does your property have a view of the Villa Monastero?’
Eighty-Seven
‘You reckon we’re a dumping ground or what?’ Bryant asked as they headed towards Kidderminster.
‘For what?’ she asked, although she suspected she knew what he was talking about.
She’d spoken to Woody first thing and explained that she needed the details of the family Sarah had been protecting, and he’d managed to give her both that and Sarah’s home address at the same time. They were heading towards Sarah’s witness family, to give her relatives a chance to digest the news.
‘Cos I was reading last night,’ he continued, ‘and apparently there are dumping grounds in America; many of theirs relocate to Maine, though their system is very different to ours.’
‘Go on,’ Kim said, happy to let him talk. It had been a long night and for some reason her mind had stuck on Leanne since she’d stormed out of the squad room.
‘Well, in the US it’s called WITSEC and offers protection to 18,000 federal witnesses, which costs the government ten billion dollars annually.’
‘Bloody hell. Why so much?’
‘From what I read, they allow some to have breast implants, facelifts and even dental work. They’re given around sixty thousand dollars before having to find work, and trials involving WITSEC have an eighty-nine per cent conviction rate.’
‘Not bad,’ Kim acknowledged.
‘They also have a clearing house for recent inductees, which can house up to six families. They’re all locked in separate rooms; apparently, less than five per cent of relocated witnesses are completely free of any wrongdoing themselves.’
‘And they’re getting free cosmetic surgery?’
