by Karen Moore
“Yes, turned out the meeting was at our old house in the Madonie. The whole thing was a bit of a nightmare for me, as you can imagine…”
Roberto hurried back into the kitchen, grim-faced. “That was Vincenzo. One of his team has picked up a suggestion from the wiretap that Luciano may be leaving the country soon. The message was in code, so it’s not clear exactly when, but Vincenzo’s determined to nab him before he gets the chance to scarper. If he’s going to be arrested at home, we may need your help, Hanna, with the layout of the house, if that’s OK?”
“No problem,” said Hanna, with a shiver of anticipation. “Happy to help any way I can.”
“What about media coverage?” asked Sergio, now fully alert.
Roberto looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think we may need to keep Luciano’s arrest under wraps for now, at least until we’re ready to make the other arrests. We don’t want to tip off his associates.”
“That’s fine. We’re ready to run the story whenever you are,” said Sergio.
“Good, we’ll keep you posted. Meanwhile, Vincenzo said he’ll strengthen the watch on the apartment in case anyone tries to make a move, after that last message. They’ll be monitoring Luciano’s house, too. And don’t worry, Hanna, I won’t forget to file the divorce papers.”
Hanna smiled. “Thanks, Roberto. And for all your support today.”
Roberto shrugged. “Figurati! Ci mancherebbe altro. It was nothing; all in a day’s work. We just need to make sure that Luciano doesn’t give us the slip now.” He dug his car keys out from his trouser pocket. “I’d better get back to the Questura. Vincenzo’s holding a council of war to finalise the plans.”
***
Hanna busied herself in the kitchen throwing together a makeshift meal of pasta with a jar of ready-made porcini mushroom sauce. Ceri had gone for a lie-down and Sergio was working on his laptop in the lounge. As the sauce heated up and the garlicky aroma filled the air, she suddenly felt a pang of hunger and hunted through the cupboards and fridge to see what else they had. Some prosciutto and Pecorino cheese, a bit of salad and some fresh bread that Ceri or Sergio must have picked up earlier. That would have to do. As she prepared the food, she tried to brush aside all thoughts of Luciano’s impending arrest, but to no avail. She couldn’t help but wonder how it would all turn out.
A sudden clap of thunder made her jump, sending the wooden spoon she was using to stir the pasta sauce crashing to the floor, smearing the tiles with muddy brown spatters.
“Damn,” she muttered, bending down to pick up the spoon. As she straightened, a gust of wind sent the kitchen window crashing against her head. She staggered and almost fell, managing to catch the window before it hit the wall. Another crack of thunder sent her reeling as she struggled to close the window against the wind. A flash of lightning lit up the night sky. The first drops of rain began to fall, gathering in pace until they drummed loudly against the window, turning the street below into a deluge. Hanna watched as the storm increased in ferocity, mesmerised by its energy.
“Mannaggia, Hanna, aren’t you watching these damn pans?” Sergio rushed into the kitchen, grabbed the pasta pan from the stove with one hand and turned off the heat under the sauce with the other.
Hanna turned around and flushed. “Sorry, the storm distracted me.”
“No worries, I think we caught it in time,” said Sergio, testing the pasta and inspecting the sauce. He drained the pasta in the sink, added a little of the water to the sauce and put it back on the hob. “D’you want to finish off and I’ll tell Ceri that it’s ready?”
“I’m here now. Don’t know what came over me…” Hanna rubbed her head where the window had caught her. It was sore, but no more than that. Sergio disappeared and Hanna returned the drained pasta to the pan, added the porcini sauce and shavings of Pecorino cheese, mixing it all together ready to serve.
Ceri and Sergio reappeared as she was putting the steaming bowls on the table.
“Mmm, that smells good,” said Ceri, slipping into a chair.
“Feeling better?” Hanna asked, sitting down next to her, noticing that some colour had returned to her cheeks.
“Much. I actually feel hungry now.”
“Well, you’re bound to be,” said Sergio, attacking his pasta with a fork. “You’ve got an empty stomach.”
“Thanks for pointing that out, caro,” said Ceri, with a faint smile.
“Hope it’s OK. It was all I could find in the cupboard,” said Hanna.
“Yeah, we need to go shopping tomorrow if we don’t want to starve,” said Ceri.
“It’s actually really good,” said Sergio, washing down his first mouthful with a sip of white wine.
Hanna had to agree. Ready-made food in Wales never tasted this good, she thought. One of the few things she missed about Sicily. She tucked in with gusto, relishing the food even if the pasta was a little overdone. The three of them continued to eat in silence for several minutes as the storm raged outside, punctuating the meal with flashes of lightning quickly followed by loud claps of thunder, masking any attempts at further conversation. It was only as they were finishing the last few mouthfuls that it started to wane.
Ceri got up to clear the dishes, much more animated now. “So, how did you get on?” she asked, turning to Hanna.
Hanna did a quick recap of the meeting for her benefit.
“Christ, that sounds almost civilised,” said Ceri when she’d finished. “Almost too easy. Was Roberto satisfied that it was all above-board?”
“Yes, he didn’t raise any issues apart from the missing clause about custody,” Hanna replied. Seeds of doubt were beginning to creep into her consciousness. She had accepted the meeting at face value and Roberto had given her no cause to think otherwise.
Ceri and Sergio exchanged glances.
“Am I missing something?” Hanna asked, her voice starting to crack.
“What’s happening with the divorce papers?” Sergio asked.
“Roberto’s going to double-check them before filing them with the Commune,” Hanna replied with a frown. “I’ll be notified when it becomes final.”
Sergio tore off a chunk of bread and used it to pick up a slice of ham and some cheese. “Considering it’s Luciano you’re dealing with, it seems to have gone reasonably well,” he said.
“So, a result!” said Ceri. “You’re free of him, at last.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Hanna, grimly, worried now whether or not the divorce really would go through and if the marriage was well and truly over.
A text alert pinged. Sergio pulled his mobile from his shirt pocket and stared at the screen. “It’s Dad. He wants to know if he can come round and pick your brains about the layout of Luciano’s house.”
“When?” asked Hanna.
“Now, tonight.”
She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was almost 9pm.
“I suppose so,” Hanna replied, surprised at the police’s quick response.
“It has to be tonight,” said Sergio, his fingers already texting a response. “The police are planning a dawn raid to arrest him tomorrow.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Hanna slumped back in her chair, overcome by a sudden wave of fatigue. Given the choice, she’d have taken herself straight off to bed. It had been quite a day, but it wasn’t over yet. She gritted her teeth; she needed to see this through.
Sergio looked at her closely. “Are you sure you’re up to it? You look dead beat. Not surprising really; you’ve had a pretty traumatic day. Maybe a coffee would help?”
“Yes, thanks, that would be good,” said Hanna, stifling a yawn. She watched as he rose from the table and filled the coffee pot, trying to gather her thoughts in preparation for the meeting. She felt that if she didn’t keep going, she’d fall asleep right there at the table. “I need some paper.”
“Sure, I’ll get you some,” said Ceri. She left the kitchen, reappearing a few minutes later clutching several sheets of A4 paper
and a bundle of pens and pencils. She laid them on the table, removing the remaining plates to make some room. “Will that be enough?”
“More than,” said Hanna. Sergio set down a small cup of coffee in front of her. “I want to get a head start and map out what I remember of the house before I nod off,” she added by way of explanation.
“Sounds like a good idea,” said Sergio. “Ceri and I’ll go into the lounge and leave you to it. Dad should be here in about half an hour or so.”
“Perfect,” said Hanna. Once they’d disappeared, she got up and switched on the radio, tuning it to an easy-listening music channel with the volume down low. Returning to the table, she picked up a pencil and a sheet of paper and set to work.
By the time Vincenzo arrived at the apartment with one of his team in tow, Hanna had sketched out a floor plan of the house and the designation of the rooms as she remembered them, plus a plan of the outbuildings and the gardens. The sketches were spread out over the kitchen table on six sheets of paper.
“Ammazza!” said Vincenzo, his eyes widening with delight. “This is wonderful, exactly what we need. Now, mia cara, talk me through it, with special emphasis on all the entrances and exits and any security arrangements you noticed on your visit. We need to make sure he doesn’t get away this time.”
***
Vincenzo bombarded Hanna with questions for more than an hour. Fatigue was taking over now, and Hanna could barely think straight any more. Finally, Vincenzo sat back in his chair and beamed.
“Hanna, you’ve been an absolute marvel! I can’t thank you enough.” He picked up his cup to finish the latest in a long line of coffees. “But before I go, I have one last favour to ask of you.”
Hanna frowned. His interrogation had left her feeling drained, mentally and physically. “What’s that?”
“Tomorrow, when we go to arrest Luciano, could you and Sergio ride along as well in a back-up car in case we need anything else?”
As if on cue, Sergio came into the kitchen. He looked at his father quizzically; he’d obviously overheard the last part of the conversation. “Such as?” he asked.
“Well, Hanna knows the layout of the area, and we may need you to document and photograph the event, even if it’s just for the record and we decide not to use the material publicly.”
Sergio raised an eyebrow. “Why me? Is there no one on the team who could do that?”
“I’d rather you do it. I need someone I can trust, and that way, we’re covered should we need it for the media story,” explained Vincenzo. “Would you both be up for that? I can send a car over to pick you up, but it’ll be an early start, I’m afraid.”
“How early is early?” Hanna glanced at the kitchen clock. Almost 11pm already.
“About 5am?” Vincenzo said with an apologetic look. “I don’t want to leave it any later…”
She looked over at Sergio. His response was evident; he looked more animated than he had in days, his face full of puppy-dog enthusiasm. She couldn’t refuse; this might be their last chance to bring Luciano to justice. At least she’d be able to get a few hours’ sleep.
“OK,” she said wearily, “but on one condition: that I stay in the background.”
“That’s the idea,” Vincenzo confirmed with a nod. “Not so for you, son.”
“Count me in,” Sergio said, in a voice brimming with excitement.
Vincenzo rose to his feet. “Great, thanks for that. I need to get back and brief the boys. Not much sleep for me tonight. Let’s hope it’ll all be worth it.”
***
Hanna fumbled around on the bedside table to turn off the alarm on her mobile. She squinted at the screen: 4.30am. It was a long time since she’d been up this early. Switching on the bedside lamp, she swung her legs out of bed and padded along the corridor to the bathroom. A faint murmur of voices came from the other bedroom. She bent over the basin as a sudden rush of nausea caused her to vomit. Grabbing the basin to steady herself, she quickly splashed her face with water and brushed her teeth. Returning to her room, she pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a warm sweatshirt, passed a brush through her hair, and squeezed her feet into a pair of Converse trainers. She threw her phone in her bag and headed for the kitchen.
Sergio was already dressed and sitting at the table, thumbing through his phone, a large cup of caffelatte in front of him. Ceri, still in her dressing gown, turned from the stove and pressed another cup into Hanna’s hands. “You’ll be needing this,” she said. “Something to eat?”
“No, thanks. A coffee will do me.”
Sergio turned and looked up. “Morning, Hanna. Manage to get some sleep?”
“Amazingly, yes. How about you?”
“Me? I’m good. Never needed much sleep.”
He certainly looked and sounded alert, more than Hanna did. She took a gulp of coffee, immediately regretting it as the heat scalded her tongue.
“The car should be here to pick us up in about five minutes.”
“Fine. Just enough time to finish my coffee.”
Sure enough, the doorbell rang shortly afterwards, and they hurried down the stairs to the front door of the building where Roberto was waiting. An unmarked 4x4 was parked in the middle of the street, with the engine running. Hanna and Sergio climbed into the back seat and Roberto introduced the driver, a young police officer by the name of Massimo, dressed in casual clothes. Massimo took off at speed.
“The rest of the party has gone on ahead,” Roberto explained. “We’ll catch up with them once we get nearer the house, but we’ll stay in contact with them by radio throughout.”
The police radio crackled, and a disembodied voice muttered something indecipherable to Hanna’s ears. They sped through the town, few people and traffic around at this hour apart from the street cleaners. Dawn was still some way off and the streets were enveloped in darkness.
Massimo fiddled with the controls and Hanna felt a blast of hot air. She soon began to feel drowsy as the heat filled the back seat. The next thing she knew, the car was stationary. Her head had fallen onto Sergio’s shoulder. “Sorry,” she muttered, moving away. “I must have dropped off.”
“Don’t worry, you haven’t missed anything.” Sergio grinned at her. “We’ve only just arrived.”
In the first glimmer of sunrise, Hanna could see that they were parked in a small clearing surrounded by trees. The police radio sprang into life, with Vincenzo barking out orders to his men in an urgent tone, punctuated by short bursts of other voices confirming their positions.
Hanna was fully alert now; she detected a heightened sense of anticipation emanating from the two police officers in the front of the car.
“This is it!” said Roberto. “We’re about to make our move.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
“How far away are we from the house?” Hanna asked as the radio fell silent.
“Only a couple of kilometres,” said Roberto. “Close enough to be of any assistance if need be.”
“So, what’s the plan?” asked Sergio, leaning forward over the front seat.
“A team of men is scaling the perimeter fence as we speak. The drone we sent up to recce the place didn’t find any evidence of the fence being alarmed. There are guard dogs, however, but we can easily take care of them,” Roberto said.
“How?” Hanna asked, fearing the worst.
“Don’t worry, we’ll just drug them,” said Roberto, as if sensing her uneasiness. “No lasting harm, they’ll be fine. But we need them out of the way.” He paused. “Once our men are in the grounds, Vincenzo will present himself at the gates with the arrest warrant. If he gains entry and Luciano gives himself up, then fine. If not, the team will storm the house and make the arrest.”
“What if he resists arrest?” Hanna asked. “What happens then?”
“Well, we’ll have to…” Roberto was interrupted by the radio sputtering back into life. Different voices confirming their positions: the police team all in place now, ready. Then came Vincenzo�
�s voice announcing he was approaching the gates. Static masking distant voices. A whispered confirmation that the gates were opening. More static.
Several minutes passed in silence. Then, suddenly, all hell let loose. Pandemonium. Police officers yelling to announce their presence. Dogs barking. Luciano’s name being called. Demands for him to give himself up. The sound of breaking glass. Heavy boots thundering through the house. Furniture shifting, toppling over. Glass shattering. A volley of shots being fired.
Hanna flinched, fearful for what was happening but glad to be well away from the conflict.
The yelling and screaming of Luciano’s name continued for a while, gradually decreasing in volume, replaced by whispered conversations, the words inaudible, before ceasing altogether. A long silence followed.
“What the hell’s going on?” Roberto muttered impatiently, staring at the police radio as if willing it into a response.
Eventually, a single voice, clear and distinct, grim in tone, rang out: Vincenzo. “Roberto, we’ve got a problem. Luciano answered the initial call and let me in through the gates. But by the time we got to the house, he’d made himself scarce. We’ve searched every room and all the outbuildings but there’s no sign of him. He’s completely disappeared, God knows where. He can’t have disappeared into thin air. Can you ask Hanna to rack her brains to think where he might have gone?”
Roberto turned to Hanna with a questioning look. Her body tensed. It felt as if the success of the operation now depended on her. Too much pressure. “Give me a minute or two to think,” she said, the words almost sticking in her throat, barely able to breathe, her head spinning. “I need some air, some space.” She opened the car door and slid out. “I won’t be long.”
The sky was gradually lightening now as daybreak approached. The surrounding trees loomed menacingly over her. She took a few tentative steps, guided by the torch on her mobile, walking away from the unmarked police vehicle and three pairs of expectant eyes. She had to think logically. Where could Luciano be if the police had conducted a thorough search of the house, grounds and outbuildings and not found him? Somewhere out of sight, somewhere she’d not mentioned to Vincenzo. Her mind went blank. She kept walking slowly, trying to focus on the uneven ground but failing to see a fallen tree branch that sent her tumbling to her knees. Picking herself up, she suddenly had a brainwave and rushed back to the car.