In a Heartbeat (12 page)

‘I already spoke with them.’

‘Oh, good. I hope that they get the monster that did this horrible thing.’

‘I hope so, too,’ I said. Unless it was me, of course.

I had a desk at my disposal that was more elegant than the others. It was dark wood with nothing out of place; the others were white. In front of the desk were two leather armchairs and behind them a wall of shelves filled with stuffed toys, statues and plaques. There was also a group photo: Roveda was in the middle and I was by his side with a big smile. The other guy I didn’t recognise. Monica pointed to him. He was around sixty and bald. His face was so tanned and wrinkled that he looked like a chewed-up moccasin. ‘Daddy,’ she said in a low voice.

‘Nice to meet you.’

Rina popped out from behind us; we both jumped.

‘May I bring your barley tea?’ she asked.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I mean, yes please, of course.’

When Rina disappeared behind the wall, Monica turned my computer on; it was a desktop, a screen connected to a white perforated plastic ball. ‘How are we doing so far?’ I asked.

‘Like Laurel and Hardy,’ she said. I took the messages from the desk and gave them to her. ‘Who do I have to call?’

‘Everyone, but I’ll deal with it. You’re still not ready. This, however, is your bank; they’ve called twice.’

‘They can wait as well. What are they going to tell me, that my stocks have gone up?’

‘You don’t have stocks anymore. You sold them two weeks ago against Daddy’s will.’

‘Oh really.’ Strange. ‘What’s the meeting about, the one the fat guy was talking about in the elevator?’

‘The Kawatsuki campaign. His name is Riccardino.’

‘The fat guy.’

‘He weighs less than you. Anyway, Riccardino is heading the launch of their new scooter, on which they also spent a lot of money. We’ll deal with television and all the other stuff later, but we’ve stopped for now because the client rejected our first proposal. Just listen to him and be encouraging. It’s Riccardino who has to come up with the ideas, not you.’

‘It’s not bad being the boss.’

Rina came back with a cup of tea. I sipped it, pretending to be in deep thought. I turned down two calls and signed two papers that Rina put in front of me; I didn’t bother reading them. People came in to say
hey
or
hello.
I nodded, pretending to be on the phone. They weren’t offended.

I turned down a few more calls. Monica’s desk was in the cubicle behind me. Every now and then she leaned out to check on me.

‘Daddy called,’ she whispered. Rina didn’t react. She seemed used to this kind of behaviour between my second-in-command and myself.

‘He wanted to talk to you but I told him that you were in a meeting. He wanted to remind you about tomorrow’s meeting.’

‘What meeting?’

‘The Flock.’

‘What a pain in the arse.’ I’d blow that off for sure.

‘Have some respect,’ she said resentfully. ‘And don’t swear.’

‘OK, whatever.’

‘Did you check your email?’

‘How the hell do you do that?’ She hadn’t shown me how to do that yet.

She walked around and came to my desk. ‘Wait, I want you to see a very important one,’ she said out loud.

She began tapping the keys. The mailbox opened when she clicked on the design of an envelope. Fifty unread emails. I looked at some of the headings:
Hi, I’m Helen and I want to suck you. Cialis. Viagra. Come like a volcano. We cure any disease. New fresh pussy waiting for you here. Get a better job! Increase your sexual life. First time sex here. C*I*A*L*I*S*.

‘What is this?’

‘It’s all spam.’

‘Jesus Christ, someone should do something about it.’

‘Stop blaspheming. Here’s something.’

It was an email from someone working on a project that I didn’t understand a thing about. I had a phone appointment for next week. Monica typed ‘yes’.

Hi I’m Betty I’m eighteen y.o. Rolex Replica. Sexy baby, Bad erection? Looking for bone marrow donors.

‘Spam?’

‘Spam.’

‘Even the bone marrow one?’

‘No, that one is a chain letter.’

‘Back in the day they came straight to the house. If you didn’t send the letter out to twenty people, bad luck would come crashing down on you.’

‘Whatever. Another important one.’

It was the fat guy’s email. The Kawatsuki campaign.

‘I’ll print it up for you so you can get ready.’

She pressed the command. After a couple of minutes Rina brought me three coloured sheets of paper. The printer was on her desk so I didn’t have to get up. Meanwhile, Monica kept on checking my emails. When Rina got back, Monica raised her head. ‘The rest is old. I forwarded it to my email, and I’ll take a look at it later. ‘Tomorrow there’s a board of directors meeting to nominate the new CEO.’

‘Does it have anything to do with me?’

‘Not directly, but it’ll be easier than when Roveda was here.’ She pointed to the sheets on the table.

‘Study those.’

I sat down and I looked at them first, not daring to touch them. It would have been better if they had been a tangle of poisonous snakes.

‘There’s a call for you,’ said Rina.

I didn’t respond and slid out of my luxurious office area. I needed to breathe; I wasn’t up for this. I wandered around. I said
hello
to a messenger and to a little guy who filled up the coffee machine. I said
hey
to a young woman with six-inch heels who seemed to be talking to herself. She had a wireless earpiece stuck in her ear with a blue light flashing from it. There was a guy leaning against the wall two paces away from her. He had an earpiece with a wire hanging from it, and he began yelling into it, holding it like it was a microphone. Maybe he was talking to the woman? I wouldn’t have been surprised. Monica said there were people on the same floor who sent messages to each other via computer.

I found the door to the men’s toilet. I locked myself in a cubicle and I sat on the toilet-seat cover. I wanted to throw up, to fall into the sewer and disappear. My leg was also shaking; actually it was vibrating. The mobile phone;
Bank
said the display.

Did you usually respond when you are on the toilet? Probably no one would notice. Maybe I could also send pictures? I opened it and put it to my ear.

‘Hello.’

‘Signor Denti, this is Salvatore Caliceti, director of the Monte dei Paschi di Siena.’

‘Yes.’

‘Good morning. We’ve been looking for you urgently.’

‘I was … in a meeting.’

‘I understand,’ he said coldly.

‘Would you please be so kind as to come to our office today?’

‘I’m afraid that I’m very busy today. Is there something wrong?’

‘Signor Denti, I would prefer to speak to you face to face but if you insist … ’

‘I insist.’

‘A request for a money transfer came in today for the rent on your apartment. The amount was for twelve thousand euros.’

I felt a pang of disappointment.

‘The house isn’t mine?’

‘If you don’t know … ’

It was twenty times more than what I paid at my other place. Maybe even more, considering the exchange rate. Luckily, I was already sitting down.

‘OK, I’ll pay it.’

‘I would normally do it but after last Thursday, I’m afraid that it’s impossible.’

‘What happened last Thursday?’

‘It’s strange that you don’t remember. You came in and made a large withdrawal. Actually, at the moment your balance is zero.’

2

If you’re in debt the tactic is always the same. Lie, beat around the bush, promise and give them your word. My clients always did that when they wanted the merchandise on credit. This time it was my turn. The bank manager made my ears burn while people around me used the bathroom and flushed happily. In the end he said that he would cover me on the condition that I deposited my entire salary, benefits and bonuses. He wanted to point out that it was a favour he was doing for me.

I hung up and felt terrible. The Ad Exec had sold his stocks and got rid of the money right before Roveda’s death. Translation: I’m packing my bags and splitting town now! The cops were going to have fun using this against me. There was going to be a nice surprise for Spillo when he tried to cash those cheques. Shit.

I walked out of the bathroom, sweaty and pale. I went back into the hallway saying
hey
and
hello. What happened to Signor Mariano was terrible. Terrible really. Did you see the papers that I sent you? Did you read my email? The attachments?
A guy was dragging the cardboard shape of a fur butterfly that was fluttering over the city of Milan. The writing said: THE RIGHT TO LUXURY. It was probably me who came up with that.

Monica intercepted me before I got to my desk. ‘Did you read the memo?’

‘The what?’

‘The documents about Kawatsuki.’

‘Not really, I didn’t.’

‘Darn it,’ she said in a low voice. ‘They’re waiting for you in the conference room.’

‘Tell them I’m sick.’

‘You can’t.’

‘I can’t.’

My head was spinning. Enemy faces around me, spying eyes.

‘In the conference room you’re going to see Riccardino and his copywriter, Alessandra, as well as the art director, Pippo. ‘You speak for me, when you can.’

‘I wouldn’t know what to say anyway. I don’t know anything about this project.’

‘Even better. That way you’ll be more natural.’

We walked towards the other side of the hallway. More people spoke to me.
Would you like a coffee? No thanks
.

‘Listen, how much money did I have in the bank?’

‘What do you mean
did
?’

‘I meant
have
.’

What are you doing for lunch? I’m sorry but I’m busy. Can you give me five minutes? How’s tomorrow? The day after tomorrow? Please give a damn about me, Boss Man
.

‘I don’t know, about a hundred thousand I think, considering the money from the stocks.’

There was about a hundred grand that the Ad Exec had hidden somewhere for his getaway. If only he’d left me a message telling me where!

The hallway finished with a plasterboard wall forming a hexagon of about twenty square metres. The conference room. Monica opened the door and entered, touching her nose.

‘Hey, everybody,’ I said, not as happily as I should have said it.

The art director had shoulder-length hair, a pair of cowboy boots, and an orange sleeveless T-shirt. Alessandra was the woman with the heels and the earpiece I had seen earlier. They were sitting on one side of the horseshoe-shaped table. Monica pushed me towards a chair that had a back twice as high as the others. Obviously that one was reserved for me.

‘Is there any news about Roveda’s death?’ Alessandra asked.

They looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I don’t know shit.’ Monica kicked my ankle. ‘I wanted to say that I hadn’t heard anything yet, but the police are still investigating.’

‘I’m sure that they’ll be back to annoy us soon enough,’ said the art director. ‘And we’re already behind schedule.’

‘Why are we behind?’ I asked, just to say something. He immediately lost his cockiness.

‘We’re just a little behind. We’re trying to keep up. Isn’t that right, Ric?’

‘Don’t worry. The situation is under control.’ From the look on his red and sweaty face, I didn’t think so.

Alessandra nodded vigorously.

‘OK, fine.’ I had to be careful of what I said. ‘What should we talk about?’

The fat guy cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think that there’s any reason for a briefing but if you want … ’

‘Let’s move on,’ Monica said drily.

The bottom line is that the client threw the proposal back in our faces. The project wasn’t aggressive enough, according to them.’

The art director fondled a penis-shaped gold charm that was hanging from his necklace. ‘I told you it doesn’t work, Ric,’ he said.

‘When did you tell me this?’ He snapped.

‘You don’t listen to me anyway,’ he shrugged.

‘Let’s see the dummy, please.’ Monica asked.

‘Yeah, good idea.’ I said.

The art director opened a cardboard folder and took out some coloured sheets that he then passed to me.

‘I think,’ said the fat guy ‘that the client wants to see the technological impact of their new bike brought to the forefront of the campaign.’

‘I see,’ I lied.