The Dark Heart of Florence: Number 6 in series (Michele Ferrara)

by Michele Giuttari

  ‘Why did you say “until an hour ago”?’

  ‘Because that gold chain and wedding ring made me change my mind. They were the only mementos she had of her mother and she would never be willingly separated from them.’

  ‘And now what do you think might have happened to her?’

  There was another pause.

  ‘I don’t want to believe the worst, but I’m convinced that he had a part in her disappearance.’

  ‘When you say “he”, you mean…’

  ‘Daniele De Robertis.’

  She started crying again, really distraught now.

  Ferrara stood up, went to her and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ll do everything in our power to get your Guendalina back,’ he said gently. ‘Please try and calm down.’

  Then he called Teresa and told her to stay with Angelica. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Rizzo was back, looking completely exhausted. It had been a very long day. He had spent the last few hours combing the area, gathering information, in addition to contacting the telephone, gas and electricity companies and persuading the managers to open their offices.

  ‘All right, Francesco, tell me what you’ve found out.’

  The occupant of the house that was receiving the signal from the transmitter, Rizzo told him, was only occasionally seen out and about. He seemed pleasant enough when he went shopping in the village. He lived most of the time in France, in Paris, with a rich heiress: it was she who owned the former convent, which at one time had been used to house young people in trouble who had been taken into State care. One of the locals, an elderly man, remembered him as being one of those children, always bright-eyed and with a gentle disposition.

  ‘Venturi’s spoken to one of his informers, and we should know a bit more about him later. From the gas and electricity readings it seems he doesn’t use them at all for long periods, but when the house is occupied the electricity consumption is particularly high, especially for a single person. Which means there’s something odd going on.’

  ‘Is the owner called Daniele De Robertis?’

  ‘No. The contracts are all in the name of the Frenchwoman and the bills are paid by direct debit from a current account in Paris.’

  Ferrara summarised what he had learnt from Angelica. When he had finished, they discussed what to do next.

  Darkness had long since fallen.

  84

  As he cleaned his gun, he wondered why on earth those police were still there.

  Had they found something else? Could it be that Angelica had discovered that he had been spying on her and in her anger was now cooperating with them? Was her love for Guendalina really that strong?

  It was quite possible that the police had identified him. That meant they would soon be on their way here to arrest him.

  That lesbian had betrayed him!

  He quickly reassembled the gun, tucked it into his belt, and went downstairs to Guendalina.

  ‘Get up,’ he ordered, taking the gun out again and pointing it at her head. ‘Put on your tracksuit and shoes and come with me.’

  For the first time she saw him without his face covered. He wasn’t how she had imagined. He was no monster, but actually quite attractive.

  ‘Why? I’m not well, I can’t get up. Please just leave me alone.’

  ‘Get up or I’ll blow your brains out.’ He raised the gun and put his finger on the trigger.

  She started to drag herself into a standing position and he yanked at her roughly with his free arm. She put on the tracksuit and shoes, then they went up a wooden staircase, consisting of about ten steps, to the ground floor. They walked along a narrow tunnel until they came to a small box room. From there, he dragged her into the living room and tied her to a chair.

  ‘That hurts.’

  It was a waste of breath. He had already left her and gone outside to see how the situation was developing. He had anticipated everything.

  He even had a nice surprise for Il Gatto.

  There were two possibilities.

  One was to request reinforcements and carry out a raid, but that would take several hours to prepare, and they couldn’t afford to give the killer that kind of advantage.

  Alternatively, they could go in straight away. But there were only eight of them. That was too few, given that they did not know who they would find. Was there just one person waiting for them, or more?

  Angelica had not said anything about the double murder, but they could not rule out the possibility that she knew something, or had even been involved.

  Was that why she had kept quiet? Had she let her heart rule her head in order to save the woman she loved?

  They were reasonable questions to ask.

  During the search of her house they had found various wigs, some quite long, which seemed to support the testimony of D’Amato, the mechanic.

  Perhaps Daniele De Robertis was the key.

  Ferrara and Rizzo were starting to get the feeling you get when, after a series of failures, you finally make a real breakthrough.

  As they were mulling over the decision they had to make, more officers arrived, including the men from the SCO.

  A little while ago, several lights had gone on in the former convent. There was clearly someone there.

  Exhausted, but more determined than ever, Ferrara made an urgent request for a pair of helicopters equipped for night flight, with men on board from NOCS, the crack team trained for high-risk situations, in case the man tried to flee. Then he started to work out the specific details of the raid.

  They were close to a turning point, he could feel it.

  85

  Within a couple of hours, Ferrara had assembled his men in an area of thick scrub at the foot of the mountain on which the former convent stood, and now he was explaining in detail how the operation was to unfold.

  As he did so, he experienced the special sensation that always preceded an important step forward. A particular kind of shiver down the spine. He spoke for about half an hour, a map of the area in his hand, deploying the men one by one to reduce the margin for error to a minimum.

  Then he waited for them all to prepare themselves and take up their positions as he had planned.

  They got out of their cars, which they left some distance away, and, after putting on bulletproof vests, they set off silently on foot up the slope with the intention of approaching and surrounding their target.

  The excitement was tangible.

  On their backs, the men from NOCS carried bags containing equipment useful for getting past obstacles, even fixed ones. They were used to going into action weighed down. Behind them were the officers from the Squadra Mobile and the SCO, with Ferrara at their head.

  They climbed the ridge, advancing quickly but cautiously so as not to arouse suspicion. Soon they had all taken up the positions assigned by Ferrara, who had carefully studied the area and the potential escape routes – and unfortunately, there were quite a lot of those, if whoever was inside managed to get a hundred yards or so away.

  The helicopters, meanwhile, would stay on the ground at the sports field in Vicchio, ready to intervene at Ferrara’s request. Some of the NOCS officers had joined Ferrara from there in a four-by-four.

  Daniele De Robertis approached the window. He was perfectly well aware of the shadowy figures with torches encircling him. The element of surprise, which they had managed to maintain for a couple of hours, had gone. He lit the porch light, untied Guendalina and dragged her over to the largest window.

  ‘Sit on the floor,’ he ordered. ‘If you’re good, nothing will happen to you. We’re going to have some fun.’

  Feeling weak and exhausted, she obeyed. She was really scared. She had seen his face. There was no way he would free her now. She despaired of being saved. Her heart was pounding and she feared it might suddenly stop. She began to pray.

  He drew back the curtain so that he could be clearly seen from outside. He felt extremely prepared, and he wante
d them all to know that they were not in for an easy ride.

  He smiled for a moment at his ‘audience’, which he had followed as they advanced along the ridge and drew close to his fortress, and with a movement as smooth as oil pointed the gun at Guendalina’s temple.

  Drained as she was, she still mustered the strength to start sobbing.

  Now he was deliberating his first move. Like a veteran chess player.

  ‘Fuck, he’s got a hostage,’ Rizzo said to Ferrara.

  The two of them were about a hundred yards from the house, hidden in the bushes, and Rizzo had his infra-red binoculars trained on the window of the former convent.

  Ferrara borrowed the binoculars and looked for himself. Lit from behind, the scene at the window left little doubt as to what was happening.

  ‘Damn it, that must be Angelica’s friend! At least she’s still alive.’

  ‘Angelica Fossi told us the truth, there’s no doubt about that now. What are we going to do, Michele? He’s got a gun to her head. We can’t risk going in.’

  ‘We’ll wait for his next move. He must have something in mind.’

  He had just finished speaking when he heard his phone ring. He looked at the display. Caller unknown. Who could it be at this hour?

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi, Chief Superintendent. Genius here.’

  The voice was clear, calm and resolute.

  ‘We don’t want to harm you. We know you’ve got Guendalina with you. We’re concerned for her safety.’

  ‘You know something, Gatto? I don’t give a fuck, not about her, not about that dyke Angelica.’

  ‘Give yourself up and we’ll find a solution.’

  ‘What the fuck are you talking about? Give myself up? I’m the one, the only one, who’s dictating the conditions now!’

  ‘What conditions? Let’s hear them.’

  Someone shone a very strong torch at the window behind which Genius was hiding. He covered his eyes with his hand. He was starting to realise just how alone he was in this situation. One against many. But that didn’t scare him. In fact, it excited him. He pushed Guendalina’s face against the glass so that they could see her better.

  ‘First of all, put your weapons away, all of you, and switch that fucking torch off.’

  Ferrara signalled to his colleague, who immediately shone the torch in a different direction.

  ‘And don’t try and come any closer. I’ve hidden bombs everywhere. Devices you dickheads don’t even know exist. Any move you make, they’ll explode. Understood?’ Interpreting Ferrara’s silence as an answer, he went on, ‘There’s one safe route to get to me, but only one person can use it. They’ll have to walk along the path I’ve marked out with white poles. Can you see them? Just one person, like I said, and don’t try any funny business, because I’ve anticipated everything, absolutely everything.’

  ‘OK. Who should come?’

  ‘You, Gatto. Only you can come.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s out of the question. I’d rather you came out with your hands up. I guarantee that no one will harm you. I give you my word.’

  Ferrara was trying not to let him see how worried he was by the situation, but it was an effort even to pretend.

  At moments like these, just one false move, a single wrong word from the negotiator, was enough to tip the balance. And Guendalina was too exposed, tied up as she was, and with a gun aimed at her head, for the police to risk a mistake.

  ‘Your word? I’m not sure what good your word is to me, Gatto! If you want this whore, you’ll have to come and get her. Then you and I will be able to have a nice little chat, face to face, and that’s it.’

  ‘I won’t allow —’

  ‘Shut up! I haven’t finished yet! When are you going to realise that I’m in charge here? Now, once we’ve had our chat, you’ll ask for a car, and only the two of us and Guendalina will get in. If anyone tries to follow us, I’ll kill you both. And I warn you, if anyone else even tries to come any closer, everything will be blown sky-high. Even this fucking place. Boom. Have I made myself clear? And you’ll have a fair few deaths on your conscience.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Ah, you still don’t know… I expected more of you. It’s full of children in here. I can’t stand them any more, always clinging to me – they remind me of all the years I spent here… I can’t wait to get rid of them, but if you do everything I say, you can have them. Whatever happens, I won’t be here any longer.’

  Silence.

  He had hung up.

  Ferrara and Rizzo looked at each other, unsure what to do next. They had still not received confirmation on who lived in the former convent, so what De Robertis said might well be true.

  They had to act as if that maniac was telling the truth. Besides, was there any alternative?

  For two hours that seemed like an eternity, they stayed where they were, waiting for the next move. Inside they were boiling with rage, but they could not rush things and risk screwing everything up in their haste. In any case, Genius was still inside the building, and he would have to make his move sooner or later.

  Ferrara’s mobile rang.

  Caller unknown again. Genius.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What are you doing? Do you still need time to think it over? I’ll give you a minute, just sixty seconds, not a second more, and then I’ll kill her. First her, then all the others. Just imagine that! A real bloodbath! Sixty seconds, Gatto, starting now.’

  And he hung up.

  After a moment, Ferrara shook his head in a gesture of surrender and removed the under-arm holster holding his pistol.

  ‘Here,’ he whispered, giving it to Rizzo.

  ‘But, Michele —’

  ‘No buts. Unfortunately we have no alternative. He’s crazy, and he really will kill her, I have no doubt about that, and then he’ll do the same to those children, assuming they really are there. What I want right now is to look him in the eye. He knows too many things about me, and I want to find out why. He doesn’t want just any of us, it’s me he’s after.’

  ‘But this is absurd, Michele! We’ve got NOCS… he’s surrounded… there are the helicopters…’

  ‘There’s no point going round in circles, Francesco. If you can see an alternative, tell me now.’

  ‘But —’

  ‘I’m going, Francesco, it’s me he wants.’

  And he set off towards the door of the building with his hands up, without looking back at all, following the suggested path marked by white wooden poles.

  The sixty seconds were already almost up.

  There was nothing but a tomb-like silence all around.

  When he was a few yards from the door, Ferrara stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. Genius had not given him any scope for negotiation. If he had not followed his instructions to the letter, he would have put too many lives at risk – Guendalina’s, his men’s, perhaps even innocent children’s – and he couldn’t allow that.

  Anyway, this wasn’t the first time he had found himself in such a situation. In his days in Calabria, in high-risk operations against the ’Ndrangheta, he had always been at the head of the team. Always the first to step forward when they needed to bring in dangerous fugitives who were willing to kill. The fact remained that in the past things had always turned out all right in the end.

  Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. Instinct might not be much help against this madman, whose moves were impossible to anticipate. But he had no choice and, now that he was only a few steps away, he certainly couldn’t go back.

  He took another deep breath, filling his lungs, and continued up the small slope to the front door.

  When he was just a few feet away from it, he stopped and waited. He looked around and listened carefully. There was no sound, not even from inside. He pondered whether he should knock or ring the bell, which he could just make out to the right of the door thanks to the light from his colleagues’ torches. He imagined Genius standing behind the door
with his gun still pointed at the woman’s head. He took another step forward and found himself just an inch or two from a neat dark green doormat with the word WELCOME on it.

  He turned towards his colleagues for a moment, as if for advice, then steeled himself and raised his foot to step on the mat.

  As soon as his foot came to rest on the letter C, there was a huge explosion, then another immediately after it, then a third.