The Deadly Aperitif
A jilted lover took a murderous revenge – by post
By David Cocksedge
ON FRIDAY 24 August 1973 a registered parcel arrived at
the home of Tranquillo Allevi near San Remo on the north coast of Italy .
As he was out at the time, his wife Renata signed for it and took it into
the house. She placed it on his desk, and when he returned, Tranquillo
opened it to reveal a bottle of aperitif. It was made by a well-known firm
of Italian liquor manufacturers and the accompanying letter invited him to
become their local representative in a new sales campaign.
Allevi was a prosperous dairy farmer and such invitations
were not uncommon. The 50-year-old dairyman took the bottle to his
workplace where he placed it in his refrigerator. It was a welcome gift,
whether he took up the sales offer or not. He then forgot about it as he
went about the day's business.
The bottle remained in the fridge that night and the whole
of the following day. It was a Saturday, when he would usually take his
wife out to dine at The Casino restaurant in San Remo . They had a
pleasant meal together, and Allevi went to his office after driving his
wife home. He was met there by a salesman and a friend and as it was a
warm evening, the three men relaxed by taking off their jackets. Allevi
then remembered the aperitif, and removed it from the fridge.
He produced three glasses and poured out the chilled
appetizer into each one. Raising his glass in a toast, he tossed back the
contents in one swallow. His two companions only sipped their drinks –
which was lucky for them. Seconds later, Allevi cried out in pain and
crumbled to the office floor. He was racked with spasms and gasping for
breath as his alarmed companions rushed to his side. One called the police
and the three men were taken to hospital. Allevi's friends were purged
with emetics and recovered from the poison in the bottle. Allevi, however
had taken down too much of the fluid and died painfully two hours later.
Doctors were quick to diagnose death by poisoning, and in
due course it was determined that the aperitif contained enough strychnine
to kill about 500 people. Who had tampered with the sample bottle? Police
enquiries at the manufacturers revealed that although company employees
had sent out over 100 bottles with invitations, Allevi was not on the
mailing list. The unsigned letter that he had received followed the
customary formula, but it had been typed on a plain sheet of paper, not
the company's headed notepaper.
Allevi had no special business rivals or enemies. He was
generally well-liked around San Remo and considered a popular man.
Suspicion now fell on Renata, Allevi's grieving widow. She was an
attractive woman, aged 38, twelve years younger than her husband. And she
was not exactly a paragon of virtue: discreet enquiries revealed that she
had three lovers that she often met for extramarital sex. One was her
husband's book-keeper, one was an Army officer and the third man was a
veterinary surgeon who treated the dairy herds owned by Allevi.
Renata had been visibly distressed at the news of her
husband's death and responded to all questioning with every appearance of
being truthful. Far from trying to dissociate herself from the sample
bottle, she herself informed police that she had signed for the parcel and
taken it into the house. She also stated, unprompted, that it had been her
idea that the aperitif should be taken to her husband's office and cooled
in the refrigerator there.
As the murder investigation proceeded, the police checked
on the movements of Renata's three lovers on the fateful day that the
parcel had been posted. It had been sent from Milan on 23 August 1973.
This seemed to let off two of the suspects. The book-keeper could prove
that he had been in San Remo all that day, and the Army officer was away
on maneuvers in Tuscany at the time. That left the veterinary surgeon,
Doctor Renzo Ferrari.
A suave professional man, Ferrari had indeed been in Milan
on the 23 rd. He had gone there to renew his veterinarian's license, he
said. Moreover, the police discovered that two days earlier (21st. ) he
had bought six grams of strychnine from a chemist near his place of
work. This in itself was not suspicious – the doctor often bought the
substance there and used it to treat sick cattle.
But there was stronger evidence against him. Checking up
on typewriters that he had access to, detectives closely examined a
machine at the town hall in Barengo. The typeface on this machine was an
exact match to the typed letters on the invitation posted to Allevi along
with the deadly bottle. Dr Ferrari was a local government officer and he
used the town hall facilities regularly in his work.
On 1 September 1973 Dr Ferrari was charged with the murder
of Tranquillo Allevi and the trial the next year caused a sensation in
Italy . This was a cold, calculated killing by poison and certainly no
hot-blooded Latin-style crime of passion. International press also covered
the story. After all, this case had everything: a prosperous husband cut
down in his prime; his beautiful but promiscuous wife and her trio of
lovers; the suave, handsome defendant loudly proclaiming his innocence.
This was not just excellent tabloid fodder, this cast of characters was
worthy of Italian opera! All it required was a Rossini or a Puccini to
supply the music.
Defense counsel fiercely challenged the forensic evidence,
and there were problems surrounding the precise motive. Dr Ferrari had
only recently become engaged to the daughter of a wealthy family. Why
would he jeopardize his future by sending a poisoned bottle of aperitif to
the home of his former lover? The doctor claimed that his relationship
with Renata was purely sexual, and that he had been happy to break off the
liaison when he met his fiancée.
Still dressed in widow's black, Renata told a different
story in the witness box the next day. She testified that it was she who
had broken off the affair when her husband had discovered that she was
meeting Dr Ferrari for occasional afternoon trysts in local hotels. Though
she often sought pleasure in the arms of other men, Renata still loved her
husband deeply and would never leave him, she said. When defense counsel
cynically suggested in cross-examination that she would also never leave
her Mercedes sports car, her extensive wardrobe and other baubles of
wealth, prosecuting counsel immediately objected. The objection was
sustained, and she did not answer.
Ferrari had refused to accept the breach. She had weakened
at first, but then came to a final decision. “I will not return to you,”
she had told him.
She stated that Ferrari had replied, “We will see about
that.”
Experts told the court that the strychnine had been
inserted by a syringe through the cork of the intact bottle. But the
final, damning piece of evidence was supplied by a representative of the
drinks company. He stated under oath that although no sample had been sent
to Mr Allevi; one had been dispatched, with an invitation on company
notepaper, to Dr Renzo Ferrari.
A panel of judges found the defendant guilty of murder
with premeditation on 15 May 1974. The sentence amounted to 30 years,
including consecutive terms for the attempted murder of Allevi's two
drinking companions.
A year later, Renata cast off her widow's weeds and
married her dashing Army officer soon after inheriting all her husband's
wealth. Of course, she held her head up high and feigned indifference when
old ladies frowned and gossiped behind their hands whenever she drove into
San Remo to shop and dine at the Casino restaurant.
Doctor Ferrari, meantime, was languishing in jail. He had
devised and then sent a liquid time bomb through the mail. Although it was
addressed to Allevi, anyone, including Renata, could have sampled the
deadly aperitif. The doctor had literally bottled up his rage and sent it
through the post.
(Research: ‘The World's Worst Murders', Chancellor Press, 1999).