The Death of a Mafia Don, page 12
part #3 of Michele Ferrara Series
‘Anna Giulietti actually thought he was the real brains, chief.’
‘So did I, but that doesn’t stand up after what Liuzza told us. Plus, we don’t know why Zì Turi was killed, do we?’
‘No.’
‘A possible explanation could be that someone was afraid that the old man would reveal awkward secrets to us.’
‘What Liuzza called “sensitive” information?’
‘Precisely.’
‘Which is why if we found out what that was, we’d already know who that someone was. If only it was that simple!’
‘Someone - or several people . . .’
‘“The fools”?’ Rizzo asked.
‘Ah - you noticed that, too?’
‘What?’
‘That it’s jarring, like a tenor singing a wrong note.’
‘Yes, I also thought it doesn’t sound right, I don’t know why. We aren’t talking about schoolboys, though, are we?’
‘It’s because we’re still Sicilians, that’s why. And so was Zì Turi. I remember meeting him, I remember the way he spoke. No, a word like that just isn’t him, a man like that would have said “dickheads”, “sons of bitches”, but “fools” - no, I don’t think so.’
‘So what did he mean?’
‘I don’t know, and we may never find out. Another secret he’s carried with him to the grave.’
By the time Fanti came back with the new mobile, a huge box of pastries and bottles of sparkling wine, accompanied by all the men he could round up to celebrate the chief ’s return in style, Ferrara was gone.
He had left with Rizzo, leaving a note saying We’re with Alibrandi. The files he had put on the desk were also missing, a sure sign that he wouldn’t be back: he had obviously taken them with him so that he could look over them at home.
4
Major Alibrandi was pleased to see Ferrara up and about, and was proud to share with him the results of their examination of the CCTV footage from the Military Command and the barracks of the Customs and Excise Squad on the Lungarno Soderini. He had been just about to show it to an ex-colleague who had been transferred to Rome to work for the Ministry of Defence.
‘This is a real honour,’ Captain Somenti said, looking at Ferrara with open admiration. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, but unfortunately never had a chance to meet you when I was in charge of the investigations team in Prato. We were very upset to hear about the attack.’
He did not specify who exactly he meant by ‘we’, but neither Ferrara nor Rizzo - who was trying to remember where he had seen him - felt the need to inquire. They had a pretty good idea, anyway.
‘As I was telling my colleague,’ Alibrandi resumed, ‘there was a lot of pedestrian activity, as there is every morning. We managed to enlarge the image seven times, no more, and now we’re trying to identify the people, but I don’t think we’ll get much. Three are foreigners, Arabs I’d say, and one is the man who got blown up with the car. The most interesting thing, though, is the night-time footage, even though it’s of poor quality. Come, I’ll show you.’
They moved to a large room filled with sophisticated equipment, where a number of young Carabinieri were hard at work.
‘Pietro, this is Chief Superintendent Michele Ferrara, though you wouldn’t guess it from his clothes,’ Alibrandi said jokily, introducing them to a corporal sitting in front of a console and a large flat screen, ‘and this is Superintendent Francesco Rizzo, deputy head of the Squadra Mobile. I think you already know Captain Somenti?’
The corporal broke into a big smile and leapt to his feet. ‘Hello, Captain, good to have you back! Pleased to meet you, Chief Superintendent . . . Superintendent . . .’
‘I’m only passing through, Pietro,’ Somenti said to his ex-colleague, ‘but I’m really glad to see you again.’
‘Show them the footage of the cars from 2:46 onwards, starting with the camera from the Customs and Excise building, ’ instructed Alibrandi.
The corporal sat down again and tapped at the keyboard until a slightly blurred image appeared on the screen: the section of the Lungarno Soderini going from the front door of the barracks to the Piazza del Cestello and beyond.
The digital clock in the top right-hand corner of the screen was showing 02:26:28 when a white Fiat Uno appeared. As it neared the piazza car park, its left indicator came on, and it entered. The corporal then pressed a key on the computer and a shot of the opposite side of the square appeared on the screen, equally deserted, at 02:46. For a few minutes nothing happened, then at 02:58:16 the shape of a dark Mercedes S500 began to materialise. It was leaving the square and turning on to the Lungarno Soderini.
‘That confirms what we thought,’ Rizzo said.
‘Precisely. The Fiat enters the square but doesn’t leave, and the Mercedes doesn’t enter - we had confirmation from the cameras on the police station in the Piazza del Tiratoio, which is the only other way into the square - but does leave. Between the two sequences, there’s time to make the switch. Now we know for certain that the bomb was planted in the Piazza del Cestello a few minutes before three in the morning. There were two men in the Fiat Uno, that much we’ve been able to determine from enlarging the image.’
‘And were you able to see the licence plate on the Mercedes?’ Ferrara asked.
‘No, Chief Superintendent, that would be too much to hope. It was too dark, the camera was too far away, and the tape had been used too often before. But at least we know the make and the model, and we know it’s definitely a dark colour. We also know it has two quite visible scratches on the left side, long, irregular ones, as if someone had drawn a key along it out of spite.’
‘I didn’t notice that,’ Somenti said.
‘I’m not surprised, they’re almost impossible to see at first.
But look.’ Alibrandi, who sounded quite pleased with himself, made a sign to the corporal, who gradually enlarged part of the image until the scratches were clearly visible, even though with each enlargement the already poor image suffered a progressive loss of definition.
Rizzo did not seem to share the major’s pleasure. ‘We already know they carried the device in a car. Where does this get us?’
‘We cross-reference the data. We already have a number of suspects, don’t we? Maybe one of them has a dark Mercedes S500.’
‘But if they don’t, we have to check their relatives, their friends, their workplaces. It’ll take forever!’
‘I know, but there’s no harm in trying. I’m afraid that’s all I have.’
‘Thank you, Major,’ Ferrara cut in. ‘You’ve done well.’
‘But the fact of it is, the death of the acting prosecutor seems to confirm that you were the target of the bombing in the Piazza del Cestello, Chief Superintendent.’
‘Yes, it does. First me, then Anna Giulietti - and she’s actually the reason we came. Any developments on that front?’
Alibrandi did not reply immediately, and Ferrara thought he detected a touch of embarrassment in the man.
‘Apart from the fact that we’re really shaken by what happened, I can tell you two things. The first is that Signora Giulietti expected something like this. She was quite nervous. She suspected that Laprua was out for revenge, and she thought it very likely that she was next on the list.’
‘Did she tell you that?’
‘No. She wrote it. She kept a personal diary, and her mother was kind enough to let us have it.’
‘Can I see it?’
‘It’s with Forensics at the moment,’ Alibrandi said, and it was clear that he was increasingly ill at ease. He was trying to gain time, but knew he couldn’t keep his colleague in suspense for much longer.
‘And what exactly did she write? Can you remember?’
‘There’s one entry in particular, from Wednesday October third. She writes that soon after leaving her mother’s house for Florence that morning, just before she got to the Via Cassia she had the impression she heard something like a shot, which scared her. Then, seeing that the driver hadn’t batted an eyelid and that nothing had actually happened, she let it go. But she’d clearly been rattled, because that evening she wrote about it in her diary, and admitted that she had been tempted to speak to Superintendent Rizzo, but that if you’d been there, Chief Superintendent, she’d certainly have told you.’
‘She didn’t say anything to me,’ Rizzo said.
Ferrara felt a futile regret.
‘But she did feel threatened, that much is certain,’ the major said.
‘She was the one who asked for security around you at the hospital to be tightened, chief.’
‘Around me, but not around her!’ Ferrara burst out, and his anger startled everyone.
Rizzo, too, was feeling guilty.
‘I mentioned that there were two things I had to tell you,’ the major continued, glad to change the subject. ‘About a hundred yards from the depression where the explosive was, we found some cigarette ends, all recent. They were close to a concrete hut in a field at the side of the road. We hadn’t seen them at first because they’d been covered over, but when we went over the area a second time we noticed the earth had been moved in one particular place and when we shifted the top layer we immediately found the cigarette ends.’
‘Which probably means,’ Rizzo said, ‘that the remote control was activated by someone behind the hut, who’d started smoking while they were waiting.’
‘And there were at least two of them,’ Alibrandi said.
‘There are two different brands of cigarette.’
‘But the acting prosecutor was killed on the eighth,’ Captain Somenti said. ‘What’s the connection with that noise she’d heard the previous week? Do you think they had already tried once, maybe with a rifle, and failed?’
‘We can’t rule that out,’ Ferrara said, ‘although it’ll be hard to prove. Maybe there’s no connection between the two things at all. Maybe Anna - I mean Acting Prosecutor Giulietti - was feeling particularly susceptible given all that was going on. But one thing’s certain, Captain: in my experience, coincidences are always suspicious.’
‘It shouldn’t be that hard. Let’s wait for the results of the tests. The cigarette ends have already been sent to Parma. We should soon know the blood type and hopefully the DNA of the people who were smoking them. They may also be able to tell if all the cigarettes were smoked at the same time, or if some were smoked on an earlier occasion than the others. I’ll send them a specific request for that.’
‘Good idea,’ Ferrara said. ‘And the DNA should be of enormous help in identifying the suspects. You’re doing a great job, Major.’ He sounded convinced but somehow distant, as if the compliment were a mere formality.
As they were all saying goodbye, Captain Somenti told Ferrara that he had to go back to Rome soon, but that, now that they’d finally had a chance to meet, he hoped they would be able to see each other again.
‘Come and see me whenever you like,’ Ferrara replied. He always felt an instinctive liking for young people who were intelligent and well-informed, which Somenti certainly seemed to be.
As Somenti walked away, Rizzo nudged Ferrara with his elbow. ‘He’s a friend of Ahmed Farah, chief,’ he said. ‘He was with him at the victims’ funeral. He seemed particularly interested in your wife.’
5
‘They’re from Massimo,’ Petra said as she handed him the two gifts from his oldest and most loyal friend: the latest novel by Jeffery Deaver, an American writer who often visited Italy and whom he had met at Massimo’s bookshop in the Via Tornabuoni, and a CD of historic recordings by Maria Callas. ‘He still doesn’t know you left hospital early, before you were even allowed visitors!’
‘Best not to tell him - I don’t have time to see him now.’
‘No, Michele, it’s not right,’ Petra said. ‘It was bad of you to leave hospital, and very bad to go to work instead of coming home. You need rest, that’s what the doctor said, and he wasn’t joking. You can’t just start working again like a madman. You should be thinking of me.’
He had never seen Petra so firm about what he chose to do in his job. It made him realise that their relationship wasn’t going to be easy in the immediate future. He couldn’t tell her she was the one he was thinking of, or that it wasn’t work now, it was a matter of life and death.
‘I’m fine,’ he lied. ‘Don’t worry.’
‘I don’t believe you. You know, even Angelo Duranti called you from his lovely retreat. You should follow his example and retire while there’s still time!’
‘Mephisto?’ He was very fond of the retired former commissioner, and still saw him, although not very often.
‘He phoned a few times. He was really nice. He’s worried about you. You should call him.’
‘I will, I promise. All I want right now is to have dinner and spend some time with you - and maybe Callas, too, if you’re not jealous! Then a good night’s sleep.’
Meanwhile, at Headquarters, having waited in vain for Ferrara to come back, Fanti had cleared the conference table in his chief ’s office of the huge tray with the words WELCOME BACK CHIEF spelt out in strawberry pastries and cream, chocolate and coffee puffs.
Knowing they would be stale by the next day, he gave them to the guards who were going to be on duty that night - at least they would have a sweeter time - as he was on his way out to catch his train home.
‘These are from the chief,’ he had lied, but deep down there was a bit of truth in it.
Late that night, Ferrara, unable to keep to his own plan, was still up.
When they had finished listening to the first act of Rigoletto, their favourite opera, and Petra had said she was ready for bed even though it was only just after ten, he had lingered in the living room. He had tried a cigar again - perhaps because he’d had a good meal he’d enjoyed it this time - and now he settled down to study the files which Fanti had left on his desk.
6
‘Morning, chief,’ Rizzo said. ‘We have something for you.’
He and Venturi had been waiting for him outside his office.
‘Early birds, eh? Something good?’
‘I think so.’
‘Come in.’
They followed him into the room and sat down in the visitors’ armchairs.
‘I’m all ears.’
‘Chief,’ Rizzo said, ‘I think we may have identified Vincenzo and Anna.’
Ferrara looked at him, puzzled.
‘The two names Salvatore Miano mentioned to his wife on Saturday September twenty-third, when he was in the Florence area. He said he might say hello to them from you know who.’
‘I remember now,’ Ferrara said, recalling the names from one of the reports he had read before going to sleep. ‘And you checked and found out that neither Miano nor La Torre have relatives of those names in Tuscany, right?’
‘That’s right, chief, but now the boys have done a really through analysis of the phone records, and the results are amazing.’
Ferrara shot a knowing glance at Venturi, almost certainly the person who had really done the work.
‘Go on.’
‘Well,’ the inspector said, ‘we discovered that Cosimo Caruso’s wife has a sister named Anna, who lives in Prato with her husband, Vincenzo, and a son.’
‘As you probably read,’ Rizzo hastened to add, ‘the mobile in Gino La Torre’s possession in Prato called a mobile registered to the Matteo Parenti company. From the intercepts, we know that this phone is almost exclusively used by Cosimo Caruso, the current director of the company.’
Ferrara nodded and took a few notes.
‘By checking the records of all the phone calls made to and from the company’s mobile and the Caruso family’s landline, and then cross-checking, we now have a better idea why that call came from Prato.’
Rizzo paused and leafed through a few sheets he had in his hand until he found what he was looking for.
‘Immediately after receiving the call from La Torre,’ he resumed, ‘Cosimo Caruso used his company mobile to call his own house. The call only lasted a few seconds - one of many calls from that mobile to the home phone. But less than five minutes later, there was a call from that home phone to a landline in Prato.’
‘Ah-hah!’ Ferrara exclaimed.
‘And this landline turns out to be registered in the name of Vincenzo Lauria, who was born in Mazzara del Vallo but has been living in Prato for more than ten years. His wife’s maiden name was Anna Cacioppo. She’s the sister of Cosimo Caruso’s wife Rita, maiden name Cacioppo.’
‘Good work. Congratulations!’
‘All down to the boys,’ Venturi said modestly.
‘And who is this Vincenzo Lauria?’
‘I’ve checked the database. No criminal record, never been reported to the police. He works for a haulage firm in Prato.’
‘And his wife?’
‘Nothing at all on her.’
‘I see. All right, make a few discreet inquiries and see what you can find out about this spotless family.’
‘Right, chief.’
‘Since that call from Caruso’s house to the landline in Prato, have there been any others?’ Ferrara asked.
‘Not so far.’
‘And before?’
‘In the period of time we examined, from the first of July until today, just a few others, but few and far between.’
‘Okay, Francesco, get to work and let me know.’
‘Right, chief.’
‘We also need to send these findings to the Prosecutor’s Department and ask for authorisation to put a tap on the phone in the Lauria home - their mobiles, too, if they have them. And that’s urgent, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘You can go, but Inspector, I’d like you to stay.’
