The double-barrel in Falconi’s hand is smoking. No one noticed that he had picked it up again.
“What the fuck are you doing?” says Maglio, who can’t take his eyes off Adele’s body.
“I warned her. If she insulted Katerina one more time, I’d reunite her with her friend. So now they can catch up with each other, the bitches.”
“Don’t lie, Falconi. You did it because she didn’t want you to give Mirna’s part to your girlfriend.”
“Well, now we don’t have to give anything to Mirna or Adele, so we divide a bigger pie into three pieces.”
“I’m not so sure it’s fair to split it three ways.”
“The cartridge in my gun says it is.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“The deal was that Katerina would get her share.”
“The deal was that—”
“Someone’s here!” Katerina interrupts, pointing to the window.
“What?” says Falconi.
“A car stopped there, near the gate.”
“Oh shit.”
Maglio approaches Adele’s body and assesses the situation. “Quick, wrap her in the carpet so I can drag her into the closet.”
“But there’s blood everywhere . . . ,” the mayor says, looking around.
“Why do you figure?” asks Maglio. “Anyway, genius, your car’s out there. If they ring, open the door and pretend you don’t feel well so they go. But at least get Adele out of here.”
“It’s that guy, Barbara’s son!” says Katerina, who’s looking out the window.
“Oh shit,” Falconi repeats.
“Stop saying ‘oh shit’ and give me a hand, okay?” says Maglio. “Pull from that side. Did you really have to shoot this cretin? Couldn’t you have given her a kick upside the head? Look what a mess you’ve made.”
FOUR
“Where are you? What’s going on?”
Grazia is sitting in front of the laptop at the station. She’s browsing through images of the Spirits of the Woods on an external hard disk so she can figure out how to make the Falconi blackmailing story disappear. She’s finally managed to get Esposito on the phone.
“Nothing, boss, everything’s fine. I was just in the bathroom because that big cat knocked over our breakfast and spilled my coffee all over . . .”
She scrolls through the images quickly, as the time stamps in the lower right-hand part of the screen speed forward.
“I had Viola on the phone before, but she must’ve cut out. Where is she now?”
“She’s in the bathroom, boss. Ms. Barbara said she ran to the bathroom.”
Each hard disk contains footage shot by a drone. Apparently, the Spirits of the Woods had good equipment.
“She ran to the bathroom? Is she okay?”
One hard disk shows footage from the front of Falconi’s house. It looks like a scene from a play: Adele’s Panda arrives, Mirna leaves, the Panda drives off, Katerina’s Giulietta arrives, Katerina goes inside. On another hard disk there’s footage of the GeoService cabin. The patrol car appears often. That’s how they didn’t get caught: they kept everything under control. It would take months to watch everything the drones had filmed. But what Grazia’s looking at now is something else.
“Ms. Barbara says she’s fine, it’s Rodari that has me worried,” says Donato. “He was raving about some aquifer.”
“Let’s calm down. One thing at a time.”
“Rodari thinks the whole story has something to do with attorney Alberti’s disappearance, and if they put him back in jail, he’s afraid no one will care.”
Grazia was looking at the recordings on one of the hard drives when she realized that something was out of place. She knew that car, and she knew it shouldn’t have been there.
“Boss? Can you hear me?”
So she began to follow its movements and noticed other cars. It took a few hours, but in the end she managed to trace a whole series of movements.
“Esposito, I can’t do so many things at once, and I’m watching this footage now. Have him tell you every last detail of this story and then report back to me, okay?”
She has to know what she’s looking for. Because every drone has recorded a piece of its path. And not only that. It’s clear that over the past few days there’s been a lot of traffic on these roads, between all the scooters, patrols, snowmobiles, and private cars. And the range of the drones is quite wide. They reach the county road that leads to the city. And isn’t it strange that the car in question moves on the very night and at the very time that Patrizia Alberti disappeared?
“You really don’t know how to drive?”
Viola is at the wheel of the old Ford that Giulio used to leave the garage at the Gherarda. He is in the passenger seat and is holding a handful of snow to his forehead, right where he slammed his head on the steering wheel, which was the moment he remembered he didn’t have a driver’s license.
“I take after my mother. She can’t drive either.”
“So whose car is this?”
“My aunt’s. She did all the driving.”
“Do you want to tell me about the aquifer?”
“In the presence of an aquifer, there are important reasons not to authorize the construction of a plant like the one GeoService wants to build in the woods. It’s actually strange that they were able to buy that piece of the woods, which apparently lies within the reserve but isn’t part of the reserve. But the fact is, the presence of an aquifer could send their plans down the river. And those people have no scruples. I mean, you read the papers, right?”
“Refresh my memory.”
“They open these establishments in the middle of nowhere, in secluded places, where nobody realizes what they’re storing. They take a lot of money from people who need to get rid of dangerous waste but don’t want to go through costly legal channels to do it. So they accept bins of all kinds of stuff and find a way to change the names on them, to make them disappear. Sometimes they even sell them as agricultural fertilizer or leave them out until they decide they’ve made enough money and find a way to close the whole thing down. Do you know who these people are? The mafia. The kind of people who think nothing of getting rid of anyone who steps in their way. And that’s exactly what happened to old Peter and Patrizia. GeoService might be registered under aliases, but once the story comes out I’ll no longer be the only suspect. No more crazy guy who offed his ex because he was obsessed with her. It wasn’t me, do you understand? This whole story is all about money and illegal interests, not a crime of passion.”
“What about the pig?” Viola asks.
“The pig?”
“Falconi. Why are you in a hurry to talk to him?”
“As far as I understand, he was looking for ways to deny the permit. He’ll be excited when I tell him something that will give him the upper hand over GeoService. If I could just get the tiniest detail out of him, like who owns the company, I could give my lawyer something to start on. I need to talk to Falconi. But why did you call him a pig?”
“Long story, I’ll explain later. We’re here. See? That’s his house. So go.”
“Wait for me in the car. I’m officially a fugitive, so you shouldn’t get caught hanging around me. In fact, get down so no one can see you at all. I drove myself.”
“Okay, but don’t take too long. If the Marshal catches me, she might arrest me for real.”
“I’ll just be a few minutes. I know Falconi, he’s quick on the uptake.”
“Donato, it’s me again.”
“Chief, at your service.”
“I have to talk to Rodari.”
“Now?”
“No, after the summer holidays. I called you now because I wanted to ask you in advance.”
“The holidays?”
“Esposito, go get Rodari.”
“Right away.”
“Falconi, first of all, I’m sorry for barging in on you like this, but I absolutely must talk to you.”
“But ar
en’t you supposed to be under—”
“House arrest, yes, I shouldn’t be here. But, you see, I have to tell you something really important.”
“Honestly, I’m not feeling very well at the moment.”
“It’ll just be a few minutes, then you can call the carabinieri and get them here to pick me up. If you want, I’ll call them myself.”
“You want to call the carabinieri?”
“To pick me up.”
“Just a second, maybe you don’t have to go that far . . .”
“Give me five minutes. I’ve discovered something important: there is an aquifer in the woods.”
“A what?”
“Right where GeoService wants to build that plant. Do you realize? Patrizia Alberti discovered it and that’s why she disappeared. Do you understand? You have to help me find a way to—”
“Are you alone?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you come here alone?”
“Yeah. I came in my aunt’s old car, see? They’ve kept it at the Gherarda ever since—”
“Come in, sit down. We can talk here where it’s warm. You don’t want to catch a cold, do you?”
“Boss, Rodari’s gone.”
“Esposito, what on earth are you saying?”
“He’s not in his room.”
“What? Is Barbara there?”
“Yeah.”
“Put her on.”
. . .
“Hi, Grazia.”
“Barbara, what’s going on?”
“I think Viola is helping Giulio discover something important—”
“Viola is a little girl, Barbara! I left her with you so she wouldn’t make any more messes! Tell me where she is this instant.”
“I think they went to the mayor’s house.”
“Oh my holy God! Put Esposito back on.”
. . .
“Hi, boss.”
“Hi, my ass! I leave you to watch my daughter and Rodari, and you don’t even notice they’ve both gone out for a drive?”
“What do you mean, a drive?”
“Get to Falconi’s house, move.”
“All right, but . . . I walked here.”
“Barbara has a car. Have her give you the keys and take that.”
“Negative, boss. Apparently, the car is already in use.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Viola and Rodari have it.”
“But Rodari can’t drive, everyone knows he takes after his mother and—”
“Rodari can’t drive, boss. But Viola can.”
FIVE
Look, Mirna, I know you still have something to do with this. You’ve never been one to give up, have you? I don’t know how you’ve managed to create this whole other mess, but while this guy is standing in front of me telling me a story about an aquifer that might put an end to everything, I can feel with absolutely every bone in my body that you’re behind it. I knew that moment Rodari said he’d call the carabinieri. And this isn’t exactly a good time for him to do it, with you in the freezer, Adele rolled up in a carpet, and blood all over the living room that this ballbuster here will notice soon enough.
And then what?
Only two days to go, Mirna. In two days, the committee votes on the GeoService permits, and more money than you can even imagine will pass from one account to another to another to another. Bouncing from one country to another, making it virtually impossible to trace the source of all that money, because it would require the collaboration of governments who know very well how to protect the interests of those who make their fortune. Do you understand, Mirna? Do you know the game I’m in on? You broke my balls if I didn’t put my underwear and socks in the laundry basket, or if I left my dirty coffee cup in the sink, or if I didn’t spray that nasty, wood-scented deodorizer in the bathroom after I did the “big one.” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say “poop,” do you realize? You had sex out of duty, with the light off and without saying a word. Sometimes I thought you were a repressed lesbian. And I still didn’t want things to end the way they did. Not that I didn’t experience a certain amount of pleasure when I opened your skull, darling, but my plans were different. The Falcon just wanted to go off on his own and let you live undisturbed in this house until the end of your days. You could’ve had the same routine you’d always had, or you could’ve gone off with that wench, Adele. But no, you had to get in the middle of things again. And Adele followed you into it. But you can’t stop the Falcon. The Falcon is a hunter. That’s right. Mr. Falconi has had enough of this life, and he’ll be damned if he stays in his place while the leeches attached to his balls suck away the rest of his life. Fuck you, Mirna. What you never understood was that life is short but it can be big, that no one can force us to be someone we’re not, that if you like dancing and having fun, you don’t have to quit because it’s not okay, that if fucking were only for having kids, then no one would have a dick for life, that you can wipe your ass with what others think of you, that you only have one life, Mirna, and since no one can give it back to you, it doesn’t make sense to live it the way everyone else wants you to, according to what they think is good, what they think is right. I have the right to that beach, to Katerina, to those magical pleasure pills, to all the money they promised me in exchange for my signature. This place has no future, Mirna. The people who left, did, they’re gone, and that was before the damn bus went down with the bridge. So why not put all that money in your pocket? Do you really believe the spirits of the dead live in the woods? Why get bogged down in the murk of nostalgia, memories, of what is no longer? That’s not living, it’s just a conditioned reflex. It’s like a heart that only beats from an electrical charge. An involuntary muscle. How did you feed yourself with what was in the house? A precooked microwave dinner, day after day. Come on, Mirna, admit it. Admit that wasn’t what you wanted. Admit that settling down for so long isn’t all it’s meant to be. So let me go. Get out of my head. Stop shouting all those bad things through me like you’re doing now. You didn’t even suffer. You didn’t even know it was coming. Leave me alone. Stop screaming like this.
“Falconi? Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Eugenio looks at Rodari and thinks about the shotgun in the kitchen, leaning against the table with the coffee machine. And then he thinks about how there’s still one shot left in there, after what he fired at Mirna and Adele.
The three red, bean-shaped candies disappear, and a group of purple, grape-shaped bunches appear in their place, which then disappear into a pair of orange, ovular candies that she can never figure out what they’re meant to be. Seeds, maybe. Or dates. Who knows? Date-shaped candies. Viola is in the car, lying on the seat so no one can see her, passing the time with a game of Candy Crush Saga. Every now and then, she checks the time on her iPhone and looks at Falconi’s house, a pretty, two-story little villa, almost hidden among the trees, with a snowy roof. What a disgusting pig. If only the Marshal had given her two more days . . . but she’s too stubborn. And now he’s off the hook. If Rodari can get him on board with this aquifer story . . . but he’s taking a long time. When Esposito starts to catch on to how long it’s been that she went to the bathroom and goes looking for her, she will officially be in huge trouble. And it’s not so easy to explain why she decided to help Rodari. The fact is, that guy has something, maybe he reminds her a little of Michele. Or maybe he reminds her of someone who could have been the father she could have had. A scenario confined to a past conditional tense—as the Italian professor says—indicating events that are no longer possible. So, when she saw that expression in Barbara’s eyes, she remembered the line from “Heroes” he told her about, her favorite part of the song, and from there, going out to give him a hand was nothing. If they really could save the forest . . . They say things done without too much thought are usually the best. But when people say “usually,” it means they’re not really convinced of what they’re saying. Anyway, five red beans. But the game stops
and Mussolini’s face appears on the display. The image that corresponds to her mother’s number. The Marshal is calling her. Viola looks at the image but doesn’t answer. Because the Marshal, of course, is onto something, and Viola certainly can’t tell her where she is. She pretends she doesn’t hear it. She silences the phone. Looking back at Falconi’s house, she thinks that Rodari really needs to get moving.
Donato runs like a madman. He’s made a big mess of things this time. The Marshal will lose her mind. He runs along the road when he hears a noise. It’s in the woods.
A snowmobile, through the trees.
Falconi seems distracted. They sit on the sofa. Giulio is talking about Giampedretti’s report, but the mayor has a strange expression on his face. After inviting him in, Falconi kept looking around as if he were looking for something. He didn’t even seem to be listening to him. Every now and then he shakes his head as if to drive off a fly buzzing around him. But there’s no fly in the room.
“Falconi? Do you understand what I’m telling you?” Giulio asks.
“What’s that?”
“You seem . . . a little distracted.”
“Distracted?”
“Did something happen?”
“Oh yes. You can’t even imagine how many things have happened.”
“But right now you should focus a little on this thing, Mayor. Look, I have the report. I can send it to you right away, if you believe me.”
“Would you like a coffee?”
“A coffee?”
“Yes, a coffee. I have a great machine, the kind with the pods. You know. It makes a nice coffee.”
Falconi moves away toward the kitchen. Giulio turns to look at the unlit hearth. Inside, there are still blackened logs, a sign that there had been a nice fire there the night before. It’s strange, though. In front of this sofa, there was usually a coffee table, and instead there’s just an empty space. It’s even stranger because the rest of the house is packed. Furniture in every corner, the sign of a home where life is lived. That’s what people do: over the years they fill up their homes with a ton of stuff that one day someone else will have to take away and throw out, and they pay a lot of money to do it. There are so many little ornaments, photographs, objects. There’s also a big dark stain on the wall. Indeed, there’s one on the sofa too, coming out from under this horrible towel that’s been thrown on top of it. There’s a strange odor too. Giulio couldn’t say what it is, but it makes him think of hunting. And there’s a strange dark trail that leads to the door next to the kitchen.
The Hawthorne Season Page 19