Death in Tuscany

by Michele Giuttari

  'On the one hand, there's the drugs racket,' he said, 'on the other a sex crime. They're probably not related, but they've got mixed up because the people involved knew each other in one way or another.'

  'That's possible,' Ferrara agreed reluctantly, turning the cufflink over in his fingers: he had asked his deputy to bring it in.

  Anyway,' Rizzo went on, 'we'll know the truth when we get our hands on Laprua. When are you thinking of making a move on him?'

  'The same thing Anna Giulietti asked me when I told her about Elisa's statement a few minutes ago. She's breathing down my neck but - I don't know. Time's running out, but I can't risk making the wrong move. I still don't know what's happened to Massimo, or how he fits in to this whole story'

  'The old man should know that, too,' Rizzo said.

  'But we don't have any real evidence, Francesco. This is the trickiest moment. If we're too hasty, we could screw it all up . . . He could easily claim he doesn't know anything about the drugs, that other people are using his company for the traffic'

  'The fishing fleet, too?' Rizzo asked. He knew the enormous tension his boss was experiencing at that moment. On the one hand there was the pressure to act quickly, on the other he was afraid of making a mistake, because a mistake could prove fatal for his friend.

  'We still have to catch them red-handed,' Ferrara said. 'Have you alerted the Port Authority?'

  'Yes, and they've agreed to keep a discreet eye on them.'

  'That's good — or is it? We're not there yet, something's missing, I don't have all the pieces . . . Maybe after I've spoken to Zancarotti and the two Albanians

  'You're thinking of interviewing them?'

  At this point I have to. Anna Giulietti has given the authorisation and I've arranged it with the warden of the prison, who I already know. I'm going there tomorrow afternoon.'

  'Do you want me to come, too?'

  'No, thanks, better not.'

  Fanti interrupted them. 'Chief, Piero d'Incisa is here, he's brought in something for Superintendent Rizzo.'

  Ferrara gave his deputy a questioning look.

  'D'Incisa's son,' Rizzo explained. Anna Giulietti asked him to bring in his father's papers.'

  'Send him in,' Ferrara said.

  'I did what I could but there's not much, I'm afraid,' Piero d'Incisa said after the introductions, handing Rizzo a not very bulky envelope. 'His diary, a notebook - but I think all the notes are medical - an invitation to a conference in Cagliari last month with the list of delegates, it may be useful to you to question some of them ... I also put in his mobile phone. There are lots of numbers in the memory'

  'Thank you, Signor d'Incisa, you've been very thorough,' Rizzo said, while Ferrara started to leaf through the diary.

  'I did it myself to avoid upsetting maman, if I could. She's still in shock, I don't want to alarm her any further, and unfortunately I have to leave tomorrow. They're expecting me back at work on Monday. I have a flight this evening, but from Fiumicino, so I have to go to Rome

  'Leave us your contact details, in case we need to get hold of you,' Ferrara said, distractedly, his mind still on Massimo, Simonetta, Laprua . . .

  'Of course,' d'Incisa replied. He took out a business card, placed it on Ferrara's desk, and wrote down his private numbers. As he did so, he moved a few of the papers on the desk, causing the cufflink to roll over onto its broken pin.

  Ah, you found it?' Piero d'Incisa asked in surprise.

  'What?'

  'Dad's cufflink. But where did you get it? He wasn't wearing them when he was found, was he?'

  Ferrara made no attempt to answer his question, but quickly asked, Are you sure it's your father's?'

  'Mais oui, those are his initials!' he exclaimed, picking up the cufflink and showing it to the two men in turn.

  They had both been conditioned by the photograph Rizzo had taken originally, in which the sun was at the top so that there appeared to be a P in the middle, and the way Piero d'Incisa was holding the cufflink they would have considered upside-down only a few moments earlier.

  'You see? L d I, Ludovico d'Incisa ... I know these cufflinks well, he had them made many years ago by a jeweller in Geneva when he came to see me there once. He was very fond of them.'

  Ferrara and Rizzo exchanged knowing glances.

  'Listen, Signor d'Incisa . . .' Ferrara began.

  Piero d'Incisa had turned whiter and whiter as Ferrara told him about the death of Anila and the development of the investigation up until the discovery of the cufflink in the place where the dying girl had been dumped. He did not mention the factory or the paedophile activities that had apparently taken place there, because he did not want to overwhelm the man too much all at once, but even so Piero d'Incisa seemed totally devastated when Ferrara stopped speaking.

  'Ce n'est pas possible, pas possible . . .'

  They waited in silence for him to absorb the information.

  'Unfortunately, those are the facts,' Ferrara said finally, 'and as I'm sure you'll appreciate . . .'

  'Of course, you have to . . . Oh, mon Dieu

  'Yes, I have to ask the deputy prosecutor for a search warrant. It's absolutely essential that we search your father's apartment.'

  'And what if I give you permission?' D'Incisa suggested after a long and clearly difficult pause for reflection.

  'You?'

  'I know, it seems impossible. I'm his son, and a lawyer . . . But apart from the fact that I have no wish to stop the truth coming out - though I hope the truth is not what you think -I'd prefer to keep my mother out of this. She'll be in church tomorrow morning, for the nine o'clock mass. She'll be leaving home at about eight thirty, and I can arrange for her to be taken to the park for some fresh air after the service . . .'

  'The search might take a while.'

  ‘I’ll take that risk. If necessary I'll make something up to keep her away from the apartment. It would be much worse if you turned up with a search warrant, don't you see?'

  'Yes, of course. So, tomorrow morning before nine?'

  Piero d'Incisa nodded, thanked them, said goodbye and walked out, as unsteady on his feet as Elisa Rocca had been, crossing that same threshold only a few hours earlier.

  Ferrara shuddered.

  34

  Ferrara got to the d'Incisa apartment at eight fifty, accompanied by Rizzo, Venturi and a three-man team from Forensics, one of them a computer expert. Piero d'Incisa was alone and waiting for them.

  'We'll try not to make too much of a mess,' Ferrara reassured him.

  The man was obviously sceptical, but shrugged. Nevertheless he kept his eyes on what they were doing, checking that everything was put back in place, in order to avoid having to explain things to his mother later.

  He had to hop from one room to another, though, because they had split up in order to cover the largest number of rooms in the shortest time possible.

  Venturi concentrated on the sitting room, two of the forensics men on the servants' rooms, kitchen and bathrooms, and Ferrara, Rizzo and the computer expert on the bedrooms and the professor's study. The study, in particular, was subjected to a thorough search. They emptied the drawers and sifted through notes, receipts, cheque stubs and photographs. The technician switched on the computer on the professor's desk and connected it to his own laptop.

  After a few fruitless attempts to gain access, he asked Piero d'Incisa for the dates of birth of all the members of the family. The fifth one, Ludovico's daughter's date of birth, did the trick. Then he copied the entire contents of the computer onto his own laptop.

  Rizzo, who had gone into Professor d'Incisa's bedroom, called Ferrara.

  'There's a safe,' he said, pointing at the wall. A large painting had been removed, and was now on the floor propped against the wall. The removal had revealed the door of a safe, measuring some three feet by three feet. The lock had an electronic code.

  'Do you know the combination?' Ferrara asked Piero d'Incisa, who had joined them when he heard Rizzo ca
lling.

  'No, I didn't even know he had a safe.'

  'If we can't open it I'm afraid we'll have to call a technician to force it open,' Ferrara said.

  'Why don't you try the dates of birth again, as your officer did?'

  He called the computer expert and had Piero d'Incisa give him the dates again. He started with the one that had given access to the computer and the lock worked immediately. With a click the door of the safe half-opened. Ferrara opened it wide.

  There were three shelves inside, filled with objects and documents: a large leather box containing five expensive-looking watches, a blue velvet case with nineteen pairs of cufflinks identical to the one found by Pietro Franceschini -which surprised the son but not Ferrara - a Sony digital video camera, various CDs marked with letters and numbers, and a lot of document folders.

  Ferrara passed the CDs to the expert. 'Go and see what's on them.'

  Then he opened the video camera and saw that there was a tape inside. He closed it again, took another look in the safe, and found the leads for connecting the camera directly to the TV set.

  'Will you come with us?' he asked Piero d'Incisa as he walked back towards the study. Rizzo remained in the bedroom, examining the documents.

  'I'd say it's my duty' d'Incisa replied.

  They connected the video camera to the TV set but before they could start the video the technician called them over to the desk. Images had started appearing on the computer screen: images of naked children.

  Piero d'Incisa turned white.

  'Turn it off, please,' Ferrara ordered.

  Then they started the video.

  The girl, perhaps only a child, was looking around, frightened by the men surrounding her. They could hardly be made out, but they seemed to be distinguished-looking, commanding, rich.

  And old. Terribly old compared with her, but that wasn't supposed to matter. She was not supposed to be bothered by the greedy looks they gave her, the hands that fondled her, the patches of saliva they left in turn on her cheeks and neck. On the contrary, she was supposed to stimulate them herself, if they had needed stimulating. But the girl was too pretty, and the men too old, for her to require any subtle skills which she had not yet learnt.

  She was the prettiest of them all, prettier than the other children - all younger than her - at whom the camera pointed every now and again. The camera was shaky, as if held by an amateur. The children were naked, and were being forced to manipulate the old men's private parts with their hands and mouths, and to play with each other while their tormentors watched avidly. But the camera did not linger on these scenes. It returned as soon as it could to her, the queen of this obscene party.

  Intimidated by that surreal atmosphere, with its multicoloured lights and deafening music and the laughter and salacious, contemptuous comments of the hosts, Alina, who had been taught to be docile and obedient, let herself be touched, caressed, stripped, passed from one man to the next. The champagne and the ecstasy pills circulated freely, as did the lecherous words they murmured to her, which she did not understand. She humoured them without really participating, and that was enough for these men who just wanted to savour the pleasure of young flesh.

  All of them except Ugo Palladiani, who wasn't satisfied with Alina's passivity and complained angrily, 'She's too stiff, someone loosen her up!'

  An order, not an invitation.

  They tied a rubber strap round her arm and when the vein swelled, they inserted the needle. She made no objection, did not protest.

  She soon slipped into a limbo which must have been populated by wild obscene images escaping from the thin plasma screen, invading her brain and echoing deafeningly in her mind. She slid to the floor and tried to cover her ears with her hands but her limbs did not respond. It was clear she was nauseous. And she was shivering with cold despite the sweat glistening on the bodies of the participants.

  'Shit, now she's really stiff remarked an off-screen voice which made Ferrara go pale. The remark was answered with sinister murmurs of assent.

  It was at this point that the image suddenly juddered, and the screen went completely brown. But the camera continued to record sounds.

  'Let me have a look.'

  A different voice, which sounded like Ludovico d'Incisa's, although he had not been visible in the video.

  'What did you give her?' 'Heroin, Professor.'

  'How much, damn it? The girl's dying!'

  The sudden silence was broken by a hysterical yell.

  'Get her out of here! Right now! Everybody get out of here!'

  Piero d'Incisa had covered his eyes, and was shaking with anger and pain. To say he was devastated would have been an understatement this time. He was a man whose world had come crashing around his ears.

  Ferrara felt sorry for him.

  'Did you recognise the voice?'

  The man nodded.

  'Chief, can you come here a minute?' Rizzo said. He had come back in with two sheets of paper in his hand and had stood there in silence, hypnotised by the images unfolding on the screen.

  ' Ferrara followed him, but Piero d'Incisa stayed where he was, sitting on the sofa in an almost catatonic state.

  They moved only as far as they needed to in order to be out of earshot, and then Rizzo showed Ferrara the sheets of paper.

  In the middle at the top was the same emblem that appeared on d'Incisa's cufflinks, and just beneath it an inscription in elaborate

  baroque characters.

  The text read: Oath

  I the undersigned, Ugo Palladiani, in the presence of the brothers here assembled, do hereby unite sincerely and solemnly with them. Of my own free will I promise not to reveal to anyone the secrets of this Grade.

  I swear to observe all the Statutes, Regulations and Instructions inherent in the grade of Secret Master unless they are contrary to the sincere impulses of my reason. I promise to conform to the internal Laws and decisions of this Lodge until I have reached this Grade. Finally, I promise and swear to be faithful unto death to the protection of every secret that is imparted to me, to every task which is imposed upon me, to every duty which is requested of me for the good of my Country, my family, my brothers and friends and never to abandon them in times of need, danger or persecution. I promise to destroy every prejudice and superstition in myself and to try to constantly improve my Initiatory and profane knowledge.

  Florence, 24 March 1999

  Ugo Palladiani

  There followed the signatures of the regional inspector, the speaker and the secretary. All were illegible.

  The other document was, if possible, even more unsettling. It was the recommendation for Palladiani to be accepted into the new grade. Among the names of the brothers sponsoring this, all of them from the thirtieth, thirty-first and thirty-third grades, was that of Alberto Gallo, Public Prosecutor of Florence.

  The voice Ferrara had heard off-screen.

  35

  'Incredible,' Anna Giulietti said, handing him back the two sheets of paper.

  She was not only incredulous, she was worried. Extremely worried.

  Not only did she have the drug racket to deal with - and she couldn't forget that time was passing and a decision would have to be made soon - but now she had been presented with a discovery that could shake the whole edifice of the judiciary to its foundations!

  It was evening, and they were sitting in the shade of the arbour on Ferrara's terrace. The sultriness had eased off, and Petra had prepared aperitifs and sat down next to her husband. Each time she discovered the depths of depravity to which the human heart could descend - and given her husband's profession, that happened all too often - she would open her eyes wide and exclaim, Ach du lieber Gott! Is that really true, Michele?'

  Ferrara was not in a very good mood.

  He had only just got back from interviewing the three men in Sollicciano prison. The journey had proved pointless. The Albanians, Nard and Alex, had remained silent,

  had pretended not to know Z
ancarotti, and had not responded to threats or promises. Zancarotti had been apparently more malleable, but whether it was true or not, he had claimed to be just a small fish in a large pond, who had only ever heard other people talking about Zi Turi and knew nothing about how his gang and his clan worked.

  The only time he had looked a little afraid was towards the end of the interview, when Ferrara, in exasperation, had first threatened to accuse him of complicity in the murder of Claudia Pizzi, and then offered to get him into the witness protection programme if he decided to cooperate seriously, giving him no more than twelve hours to make up his mind.

  'Now we know why Gallo was so determined to block any investigation of the Freemasons,' Anna Giulietti resumed. And I fell for it hook, line and sinker! And it's also clear now why he supported the request for you to be suspended . . . Not to mention what I had to go through to get authorisation to see the medical records from the Ospedale Nuovo and then, worse still, when he found out that the request for you to be reinstated came from me. The only thing that saved me was the fact that the Prosecutor's Department of Lucca was involved as well, otherwise I don't think I'd be here to tell the tale.'

  'Thank you.'

  Ferrara was genuinely grateful to her. Few deputy prosecutors have the courage to oppose their boss, even when they know he is wrong.

  Petra, who was listening to them attentively, was still astonished by the ease with which Michele and Anna went from being formal with each other to talking like old friends.