Italian Romance (7 page)

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Authors: Jayne Castel

BOOK: Italian Romance
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“The
pizza will be here soon,” he promised, “and I’m sorry for potentially ruining
your appetite, but I really do need to get an identikit from you.”

Luisa
nodded, “of course. The sooner you find out who this man is, the sooner I can
leave this place.”

Catanese
pulled the small table in the corner out into the centre of the room. They sat
opposite each other as he opened up the laptop and switched it on.

“Now,
I'd like you to describe the killer – in as much detail as you can remember.
Tell me everything; even details you think are unimportant.”

Luisa
nodded. She would never forget that gaunt face; his tanned, leathery skin; cold
eyes – so dark they were almost black – and the military-style buzz cut hair, or
the way he moved liked a spider. As she spoke, Catanese frowned at the laptop's
screen and clicked the mouse repeatedly. Finally, he turned the laptop around
so Luisa could see the screen.

“Is
this him?”

Luisa's
breath stopped in her throat as she gazed at the computer-generated identikit of
the assassin. The likeness was eerie.

“Yes,
that's him,” she croaked. “Do you recognize his face?”

Commissario
Catanese shook his head. “No – but that doesn't mean he's not on our files. If
you don't mind I've got quite a few mug shots for you to look through after
dinner. Our killer is likely to be there.”

“Great,”
Luisa muttered, “that'll help my digestion.”

At
that moment, the sound of the fire door closing at the end of the corridor
alerted them to someone's arrival. Catanese got to his feet and poked his head
out into the corridor.

“In
here,” he called before Luisa caught a whiff of fresh bread and melted cheese –
the pizza had arrived.

A
young man wearing tight jeans and t-shirt sauntered into the room carrying two
boxes and a plastic bag. He ran an appreciative eye over Luisa before placing
the boxes and two bottles of beer on the table.  Catanese paid, and the young
man thanked him cheerfully before giving Luisa another lustful glance and
leaving the room. 

Luisa
sighed and took a seat.

“Why
do Italian men always do that?” she said, unable to keep the scorn out of her
voice.

“Do
what?” Valerio Catanese paused as he opened their beers and poured them into
plastic cups.

“That!
The staring, the ogling… like a woman is a piece of meat. I hate it!”

The
police inspector looked taken aback at her outburst.

“We
don't all do that,” he responded quietly, “but is there something wrong with
appreciating an attractive woman?”

“I
wouldn't call it appreciating,” Luisa replied sharply, “like I said, they stare
like you're a thing, not a person!”

Catanese
frowned, “There are men here who are disrespectful to women, who make crude
comments and who leer on the street – but aren't there men like that everywhere?”

“Not
where I come from,” Luisa replied, before admitting, “at least not so
obviously.”

Catanese
finished pouring the beer and handed Luisa her glass.

“I'm
sorry you've obviously had such a rough time here in Naples. It can be an
aggressive city and you have seen the worst of it. Please believe me though
that we are not all the same.”

Luisa
did not reply. Now she felt like a bigot. With a sigh, she picked up a slice of
pizza and took a bite. She was so hungry she could hardly think straight.

The
pizza was delicious – with the typical Neapolitan thick-crust, oozing with mozzarella
and slices of spicy salami. The beer was ice-cold and the perfect
accompaniment. For a few minutes, Luisa forgot all about her terrible day, or
the fact her dream holiday had turned into a nightmare. The men could be odious
here but the food was incredible.

They
ate in silence for a few minutes before Valerio Catanese handed her a
serviette.

“You've
got oil on your chin,” he said with a smile, “I'm glad you're enjoying your
pizza.”

“It's
fantastic, thank you,” Luisa replied, wiping off the oil as daintily as she
could manage.

Once
they finished their pizza, wiped the grease off their fingers and drained the
last dregs of beer, Catanese cleared the table and replaced his laptop. This
time, he took a seat next to Luisa so they could look through a database of mug
shots together. His closeness was distracting. They were not touching but Luisa
could feel the heat of his body and smell the faint scent of the aftershave he
had used that morning. She forced the butterflies that suddenly fluttered up
into her stomach, to settle, and focused her attention on the computer screen.

“Take
your time,” Catanese instructed, “look at each face carefully before moving on
to the next.”

Luisa
nodded. There was an array of thin-faced men to choose from – Catanese had used
her identikit to narrow the search. However, even among men of a similar age
and physique, there was a lot of variation. Next to her, Catanese remained
silent as Luisa scrolled down the page.

The
evening stretched on. Outside, the odd burst of laughter from the street below,
or the rat-tat-tat of a scooter engine, intruded occasionally but Luisa was so
intent on her search that after a while she almost forgot the attractive police
inspector was sitting next to her. Eventually, nearly two hours after she had
started scrolling through the mug shots – after nearly two-hundred thin-faced
men – Luisa found him.

“There!”
she sat back triumphant, pointing at the screen, “that's definitely him.”

Catanese
leaned forward and double-clicked on the mug shot.

“Mario
Ponte,” he read, “twenty-seven years old and a list of previous convictions,
most of them for robbery. He's typical of so many you find in their lower
ranks. He probably thought he was on easy-money until the day he realized they
owned him. I don't think he'll be hard to find.”

“I
hope not,” Luisa replied, “because, just quietly, I won't be able to relax
until you arrest him.”

Catanese
leaned back in his chair, stretched and closed the laptop.

“Thank
you Luisa – I wish all witnesses had your memory and eye for detail. Mario
Ponte will be very useful to us.”

Luisa
yawned, got to her feet and stretched. She was stiff from sitting in the same
position for hours and fatigue now pressed down upon her.

“It's
late,” Commissario Catanese got to his feet and packed up his laptop, “and you
must be exhausted. Like I said, I'll be sleeping next door. If you need
anything just knock.”

Luisa
sat on the edge of her bed and listened as the door next to hers shut gently
and she heard Catanese moving around the room. It was a surreal experience; spending
the evening in a police station, sleeping next door to the sexiest man she had
ever met.

Luisa
had tried hard to ignore it, but Valerio Catanese sent her blood-pressure
soaring. She was glad for some time alone, as the hours spent in his presence
had an intoxicating effect on her. There was something incredibly magnetic
about him – the way he spoke and moved – and the effect his gaze had when it
met hers.

She
had no nightclothes, so Luisa slipped off her sandals and lay, fully clothed,
on the bed.  Even with the light off, she could clearly see the outline of her
stark bedroom. Silver light filtered in through the high window – there was a full
moon tonight. It was nearing midnight but Naples was still busy. Luisa caught
the ebb and flow of voices, laughter, and the occasional shout. Somewhere a dog
barked and a car alarm went off.

Naples
was never silent.

Luisa
would have thought that, after the day she’d had, she would have fallen into an
exhausted slumber immediately. However, she did not. Instead, she lay listening
to the city before eventually falling into a fitful doze.

 

***

 

It
had just struck midnight when Mario Ponte parked his scooter in front of the
police station and removed two boxes of hot pizza from the plastic pannier on
the back. He did not hesitate as he walked towards the front entrance, knowing
that even now, he would be under surveillance. 

It
was a bold move – some would say reckless – but Mario Ponte was a desperate
man.

She
had to die.

Mario
sauntered into the front entrance and buzzed the intercom. A tired face
appeared behind the glass.

“Yes?”
the police officer asked wearily, “what do you want?”

“Pizza
delivery for two,” Mario made sure he did not appear too eager. No pizza
delivery mule would be happy to be making a midnight delivery.

“Wait
there,” the face disappeared before reappearing a few moments later, “no one's
ordered any pizza here.”

Mario
frowned in confusion, “yes they did – someone called in twenty minutes ago –
said the last two pizzas were so good they wanted more of the same.”

The
police officer frowned. There had been a delivery earlier – two pizzas. Had
Catanese ordered more and forgotten to call downstairs? That was unlike him.
They were probably still going through the mug shots. Still, he wasn't happy
about letting this guy in.

“Let
me check,” he turned from the window and called Catanese's cell phone. It was
switched off. The police officer sighed; irritated that he had to be bothered
with this.

“Look,
just drop the pizzas off inside the door and I'll make sure they're taken
upstairs.” He turned back to the window and eyed the pizza delivery boy. He
looked tired – poor kid probably earned five euros an hour.

“Right
– that's fine,” the delivery boy replied affably, “but I'll need payment. Ten
euros.”

The
police officer sighed again. Damn Catanese!

“Alright,
come through.”

The
armored door clicked open. Mario Catanese smiled and slipped inside.  

 

***

 

It
was no good. Sleep eluded Luisa no matter which way she lay. Her mind was a jumble
of thoughts and she could not seem to relax. The mattress was lumpy and springs
poked into her back. Eventually, she sat up and decided a trip to the toilet
might help things along. She fumbled for the light; a small lamp by the bed
before padding, barefoot, across the room to the door. Outside in the corridor,
she searched for the light switch but could not find it. Like a blind-woman she
slid her hands up and down the wall, stretching out her fingers in search of a
familiar plastic box – nothing. She would have to find the toilet in darkness;
Catanese had said it was at the end of the corridor so it would not be
difficult to find. She started up the corridor; the tiles cool on the soles of
her feet. She had nearly reached the bathroom when the whisper of the
smoke-stop door at the far end of the corridor made her freeze mid-step.

Someone
was up here – and that same someone was taking great care to move quietly.
Luisa's heart started to pound and terror slid like icy water over her, from
the crown of her head downwards.

The
killer was in the corridor behind her.

Luisa
did not have to see him to know. Like a cornered animal, she crouched low
against the wall and swiveled around on the balls of her feet, her eyes
straining in the semi-darkness. The figure of a man – small and sinewy – was
outlined against the dimly lit stairwell behind. His gaze probed the corridor
and Luisa knew she had only seconds before his eyes adjusted and he saw her.

Slowly,
moving like a cat stalking its prey, the killer moved down the corridor. Her
room had a dim rim of light around the door and that, for the moment, had
captured his attention. Luisa knew she must act but, such was her terror, she
remained frozen where she was; not knowing what she should do to save herself.

He
was only a few meters away from her now, but he had still not seen her. She saw
him pause outside her door and remove something from the waistband of his jeans
– a gun. He deftly fitted a silencer over the muzzle and lifted the safety.
Then, throwing open the door, he pounced.

The
actions of the next few seconds happened so quickly that Luisa had no time to
think, or even register what she was doing. Instinct took over. She launched
herself at Valerio Catanese's door but ended up colliding with the police inspector
as he burst from the room. The force of their collision sent them both
sprawling across the floor.

It
was that which saved them both, for – realizing his quarry was not in her room
and hearing the commotion in the hall outside – the killer rushed back into the
corridor and fired three shots at chest height towards Catanese and Luisa.

Lying
on her stomach, winded, Luisa felt the bullets whistle past her and ricochet
off the walls.  Glass splintered as one of the bullets hit a window. Blinded by
the fact he had just exited a lit room, the killer was at a momentary
disadvantage, and Catanese seized his chance.

Luisa
heard a grunt and the impact of two bodies colliding before a strangled cry
filled the hallway. Terrified, Luisa climbed to her feet and backed away from
the sound of the scuffle. She was still trapped, with the bathroom door behind
her. If the killer bested the Commissario she was finished.

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