Death in Tuscany (30 page)

'If it is an error, it's the only one,' Petra commented.

But Ferrara was already on the phone.

'Superintendent Lojelo? Ferrara here. Would it be possible for you to find out who manages quarries 206, 219 and 225?'

'Of course. Has it got something to do with the murder?'

'Quite possibly. I'm emailing you the last article Claudia Pizzi wrote. It never appeared, and when you read it you'll understand why'

'Thank you, Chief Superintendent. You're doing us a great favour.'

Immediately afterwards, Ferrara called Fanti.

'Try to find out all you can about Sicilian companies operating in Tuscany over the last ten years . . . no, make that fifteen years.'

'All of them?' Fanti asked in surprise.

'How many there are, what line of business they're in, where they're distributed. That's all I need for now'

Ah,' Fanti replied - it was hard to tell whether he was relieved or not. 'I'll get right on to it. But . . . when are you ("coming back, chief?'

'Never . . . No, of course I'll be back, but I don't know when. Why, aren't you getting on with Rizzo?'

'It's not that, chief . . . But is everything all right there? Are you making progress? Do you need anything else?'

'No, that's all for the moment. But please, Fanti, call me when you have the information or send it to me.'

'Okay, chief.'

As soon as he had hung up, Ferrara looked at his watch and decided the time had come to make a call he had been putting off for too long.

17

ALEX:
You, leave him alone - leave him alone! [sounds of a scuffle]

ALEX:
No be stupid! Want to finish up separate cells?
ZANCAROTTI:
That's fine by me if it means I don't have to

see him any more.

NARD:
Nothing to do with me!

ZANCAROTTI:
Do you hear him? Do you hear him? Did I tell him or didn't I to put on his seat belt? Did I tell him or not? A thousand times, I must have told him . . .

[brief pause]

ZANCAROTTI:
He got us caught and now we're fucked, am

I right?
NARD:
[incomprehensible]

ZANCAROTTI:
What the fuck did he just say?

ALEX:
He say shut up, no pay attention . . . He scared . . .
ZANCAROTTI:
Poor thing, is he trying to get to sleep?

ALEX:
He scared, scared! Me scared also.

ZANCAROTTI:
I swear I'll kill him when we get out of

here
...
I don't give a fuck that he's your brother.

ALEX:
He
kill all of us first, Emilio. Not forgive.

ZANCAROTTI:
Nor will Zitturi - we've fucked it up for him, too.

ALEX:
He not find us in time, we dead first! [long silence]

ZANCAROTTI:
No, I'll kill him first!

NARD:
[incomprehensible words]
ZANCAROTTI:
I'll kill him.

ALEX:
He say quiet or he strangle you. He can do it.
ZANCAROTTI:
Me too.

ALEX:
He my brother, Emilio. Maybe we stronger than you.

[Long silence. After forty minutes, sounds of snoring.]

Francesco Rizzo finished reading the prison transcript and concentrated. With a red felt-tip pen he underlined the 'he' in 'He kill all of us first' and drew a circle around the word 'Zitturi'. Then he called Inspector Venturi, who was particularly good at searching through the records, Ascalchi and Ciuffi. It was 9.30 on Friday 10 August. At that very moment, Chief Superintendent Ferrara was waiting for the firemen to recover Claudia Pizzi's body from the bottom of the gully.

'One of them must be the supplier and the other one the person the drugs were meant for,' Rizzo said to Venturi. 'By getting caught, they've screwed both these people, and now they're scared. It may play into our hands. They might be ready to cooperate rather than get themselves killed.'

'The Italian maybe,' Ciuffi conceded sceptically. 'The Albanians won't talk - they're tough, I know them. Even Zancarotti will be hard to crack. He won't want to lose face, he has too much to lose. With the time it'll take to go through the courts and maybe a good lawyer . . .'

'Couldn't we infiltrate someone into the cell before the lawyer gets them out?' Ascalchi asked.

'Not a bad idea,' Ciuffi said.
'I
could get one of my men out of mothballs. They're good at blending in and they may be able to get them to talk. It's worth a try, even though I don't hold out much hope. It was a major operation. We're talking here about big shots, really dangerous people. These guys are just couriers, it won't be easy to get them to open up. You've seen how scared they are already . . .'

'Let's try all the same,' Rizzo said. 'Does the name Zitturi mean anything to you?' 'No, never heard it before.'

'Venturi, that's up to you. Go through the records. If necessary, check out all the Zitturis in Italy. It isn't a common name - maybe with a bit of luck

'All right, chief,' Venturi replied, immediately adding, 'provided he's Italian. This is an international gang. What if he's Greek or Moroccan? Maybe they pronounced the name wrong.'

'Then we're fucked. But I see your point. You'll have to check with Interpol as well.' 'Yes, chief.'

'What's going to be more difficult is identifying the guy they refer to as "He". He must be the Albanians' boss. Any ideas, Luigi?'

'Nothing at the moment. We're analysing the two brothers' mobiles and have asked Deputy Prosecutor Cosenza for authorisation to put a trace on the last calls they made and received. All my men are on the alert, and we're hoping to get something from our informers. A job as big as this doesn't go unnoticed, there may have been a leak.'

'Perfect,' Rizzo said. 'I don't think there's anything else for the moment. You can all go.'

*

A little while later, as he was going to see Fanti to ask if there was any news of Ferrara, Rizzo was stopped in the corridor by Chief Inspector Violante.

'I was just coming to see you. We've identified the owner of the phone card which was used for the emergency call. The Stella case, you know?'

'Yes, of course. Who is it?'

'His name is Pietro Franceschini and he lives in San Michele a Torri, not far from where the girl was found, but more towards Montelupo, in the Via Canto delle Gracchie. We've called him in. Do you want to talk to him?'

'Sure, let's go.'

He followed the inspector to his office, where Sergi was just offering coffee to a man and a woman. They were both middle-aged and rather nondescript. They both looked disoriented and intimidated by their surroundings.

After the usual introductions, Rizzo asked the man if he had been the person who had called the emergency services on the morning of 29 July.

Pietro Franceschini bowed his head in embarrassment and did not reply.

'The call was made from a public place with a phone card,' Violante said, in a gentle but firm tone. 'The same card that was used to call your home three times, your mother twice and your sister three times.'

The woman - the man's wife, whose name was Rita, shook him lightly by the arm. Answer them, Pietro.'

'Tell us the whole story,' 'Serpico' said, in a conciliatory tone. 'If you haven't done anything wrong, you have nothing to be afraid of. We're not accusing you, we just want to know'

'I didn't do anything,' the man said in a low voice, his head still bowed. 'I
...
I don't know anything.'

'Violante, Sergi, would you mind leaving the room?' Rizzo said. It had occurred to him that the presence of so many officers was making the couple even more scared and uncomfortable. 'I'd like to talk to these two people alone.'

'Listen, Signor Franceschini,' he resumed as soon as the others had gone, 'we don't have anything against you. On the contrary! As far as we know, you simply did your duty as a citizen. You called the emergency services because someone needed help. If anything, you should be rewarded, not scared. That morning, a girl lay dying on the Scandicci road and someone used his phone card to make an emergency call. You didn't lose that card, because the calls my colleague mentioned were made before and after July twenty-ninth, do you understand? So if you don't want to talk, I can only assume that you were the one who put the girl there
..."

'No, officer, I swear!' the woman screamed. 'It wasn't him
...
It was nothing to do with us. Pietro, Pietro, tell the superintendent! Oh, holy Mother of God.' She started to cry. 'Why don't you speak? Why don't you say anything? Seeing as they already know