The Dark Heart of Florence: Number 6 in series (Michele Ferrara) (34 page)

As he cleaned his gun, he wondered why on earth those police were still there.

Had they found something else? Could it be that Angelica had discovered that he had been spying on her and in her anger was now cooperating with them? Was her love for Guendalina really that strong?

It was quite possible that the police had identified him. That meant they would soon be on their way here to arrest him.

That lesbian had betrayed him!

He quickly reassembled the gun, tucked it into his belt, and went downstairs to Guendalina.

‘Get up,’ he ordered, taking the gun out again and pointing it at her head. ‘Put on your tracksuit and shoes and come with me.’

For the first time she saw him without his face covered. He wasn’t how she had imagined. He was no monster, but actually quite attractive.

‘Why? I’m not well, I can’t get up. Please just leave me alone.’

‘Get up or I’ll blow your brains out.’ He raised the gun and put his finger on the trigger.

She started to drag herself into a standing position and he yanked at her roughly with his free arm. She put on the tracksuit and shoes, then they went up a wooden staircase, consisting of about ten steps, to the ground floor. They walked along a narrow tunnel until they came to a small box room. From there, he dragged her into the living room and tied her to a chair.

‘That hurts.’

It was a waste of breath. He had already left her and gone outside to see how the situation was developing. He had anticipated everything.

He even had a nice surprise for Il Gatto.

There were two possibilities.

One was to request reinforcements and carry out a raid, but that would take several hours to prepare, and they couldn’t afford to give the killer that kind of advantage.

Alternatively, they could go in straight away. But there were only eight of them. That was too few, given that they did not know who they would find. Was there just one person waiting for them, or more?

Angelica had not said anything about the double murder, but they could not rule out the possibility that she knew something, or had even been involved.

Was that why she had kept quiet? Had she let her heart rule her head in order to save the woman she loved?

They were reasonable questions to ask.

During the search of her house they had found various wigs, some quite long, which seemed to support the testimony of D’Amato, the mechanic.

Perhaps Daniele De Robertis was the key.

Ferrara and Rizzo were starting to get the feeling you get when, after a series of failures, you finally make a real breakthrough.

As they were mulling over the decision they had to make, more officers arrived, including the men from the SCO.

A little while ago, several lights had gone on in the former convent. There was clearly someone there.

Exhausted, but more determined than ever, Ferrara made an urgent request for a pair of helicopters equipped for night flight, with men on board from NOCS, the crack team trained for high-risk situations, in case the man tried to flee. Then he started to work out the specific details of the raid.

They were close to a turning point, he could feel it.

Within a couple of hours, Ferrara had assembled his men in an area of thick scrub at the foot of the mountain on which the former convent stood, and now he was explaining in detail how the operation was to unfold.

As he did so, he experienced the special sensation that always preceded an important step forward. A particular kind of shiver down the spine. He spoke for about half an hour, a map of the area in his hand, deploying the men one by one to reduce the margin for error to a minimum.

Then he waited for them all to prepare themselves and take up their positions as he had planned.

They got out of their cars, which they left some distance away, and, after putting on bulletproof vests, they set off silently on foot up the slope with the intention of approaching and surrounding their target.

The excitement was tangible.

On their backs, the men from NOCS carried bags containing equipment useful for getting past obstacles, even fixed ones. They were used to going into action weighed down. Behind them were the officers from the
Squadra Mobile
and the SCO, with Ferrara at their head.

They climbed the ridge, advancing quickly but cautiously so as not to arouse suspicion. Soon they had all taken up the positions assigned by Ferrara, who had carefully studied the area and the potential escape routes – and unfortunately, there were quite a lot of those, if whoever was inside managed to get a hundred yards or so away.

The helicopters, meanwhile, would stay on the ground at the sports field in Vicchio, ready to intervene at Ferrara’s request. Some of the NOCS officers had joined Ferrara from there in a four-by-four.

Daniele De Robertis approached the window. He was perfectly well aware of the shadowy figures with torches encircling him. The element of surprise, which they had managed to maintain for a couple of hours, had gone. He lit the porch light, untied Guendalina and dragged her over to the largest window.

‘Sit on the floor,’ he ordered. ‘If you’re good, nothing will happen to you. We’re going to have some fun.’

Feeling weak and exhausted, she obeyed. She was really scared. She had seen his face. There was no way he would free her now. She despaired of being saved. Her heart was pounding and she feared it might suddenly stop. She began to pray.

He drew back the curtain so that he could be clearly seen from outside. He felt extremely prepared, and he wanted them all to know that they were not in for an easy ride.

He smiled for a moment at his ‘audience’, which he had followed as they advanced along the ridge and drew close to his fortress, and with a movement as smooth as oil pointed the gun at Guendalina’s temple.

Drained as she was, she still mustered the strength to start sobbing.

Now he was deliberating his first move. Like a veteran chess player.

‘Fuck, he’s got a hostage,’ Rizzo said to Ferrara.

The two of them were about a hundred yards from the house, hidden in the bushes, and Rizzo had his infra-red binoculars trained on the window of the former convent.

Ferrara borrowed the binoculars and looked for himself. Lit from behind, the scene at the window left little doubt as to what was happening.

‘Damn it, that must be Angelica’s friend! At least she’s still alive.’

‘Angelica Fossi told us the truth, there’s no doubt about that now. What are we going to do, Michele? He’s got a gun to her head. We can’t risk going in.’

‘We’ll wait for his next move. He must have something in mind.’

He had just finished speaking when he heard his phone ring. He looked at the display. Caller unknown. Who could it be at this hour?

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Chief Superintendent. Genius here.’

The voice was clear, calm and resolute.

‘We don’t want to harm you. We know you’ve got Guendalina with you. We’re concerned for her safety.’

‘You know something, Gatto? I don’t give a fuck, not about her, not about that dyke Angelica.’

‘Give yourself up and we’ll find a solution.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about? Give myself up? I’m the one, the only one, who’s dictating the conditions now!’

‘What conditions? Let’s hear them.’

Someone shone a very strong torch at the window behind which Genius was hiding. He covered his eyes with his hand. He was starting to realise just how alone he was in this situation. One against many. But that didn’t scare him. In fact, it excited him. He pushed Guendalina’s face against the glass so that they could see her better.

‘First of all, put your weapons away, all of you, and switch that fucking torch off.’

Ferrara signalled to his colleague, who immediately shone the torch in a different direction.

‘And don’t try and come any closer. I’ve hidden bombs everywhere. Devices you dickheads don’t even know exist. Any move you make, they’ll explode. Understood?’ Interpreting Ferrara’s silence as an answer, he went on, ‘There’s one safe route to get to me, but only one person can use it. They’ll have to walk along the path I’ve marked out with white poles. Can you see them? Just one person, like I said, and don’t try any funny business, because I’ve anticipated everything, absolutely
everything
.’

‘OK. Who should come?’

‘You, Gatto. Only you can come.’

‘I’m afraid that’s out of the question. I’d rather you came out with your hands up. I guarantee that no one will harm you. I give you my word.’

Ferrara was trying not to let him see how worried he was by the situation, but it was an effort even to pretend.

At moments like these, just one false move, a single wrong word from the negotiator, was enough to tip the balance. And Guendalina was too exposed, tied up as she was, and with a gun aimed at her head, for the police to risk a mistake.

‘Your word? I’m not sure what good your word is to me, Gatto! If you want this whore, you’ll have to come and get her. Then you and I will be able to have a nice little chat, face to face, and that’s it.’

‘I won’t allow —’

‘Shut up! I haven’t finished yet! When are you going to realise that I’m in charge here? Now, once we’ve had our chat, you’ll ask for a car, and only the two of us and Guendalina will get in. If anyone tries to follow us, I’ll kill you both. And I warn you, if anyone else even tries to come any closer, everything will be blown sky-high. Even this fucking place.
Boom
. Have I made myself clear? And you’ll have a fair few deaths on your conscience.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Ah, you still don’t know… I expected more of you. It’s full of children in here. I can’t stand them any more, always clinging to me – they remind me of all the years I spent here… I can’t wait to get rid of them, but if you do everything I say, you can have them. Whatever happens, I won’t be here any longer.’

Silence.

He had hung up.

Ferrara and Rizzo looked at each other, unsure what to do next. They had still not received confirmation on who lived in the former convent, so what De Robertis said might well be true.

They had to act as if that maniac was telling the truth. Besides, was there any alternative?

For two hours that seemed like an eternity, they stayed where they were, waiting for the next move. Inside they were boiling with rage, but they could not rush things and risk screwing everything up in their haste. In any case, Genius was still inside the building, and he would have to make his move sooner or later.

Ferrara’s mobile rang.

Caller unknown
again. Genius.

‘Yes?’

‘What are you doing? Do you still need time to think it over? I’ll give you a minute, just sixty seconds, not a second more, and then I’ll kill her. First her, then all the others. Just imagine that! A real bloodbath! Sixty seconds, Gatto, starting now.’

And he hung up.

After a moment, Ferrara shook his head in a gesture of surrender and removed the under-arm holster holding his pistol.

‘Here,’ he whispered, giving it to Rizzo.

‘But, Michele —’

‘No buts. Unfortunately we have no alternative. He’s crazy, and he really will kill her, I have no doubt about that, and then he’ll do the same to those children, assuming they really are there. What I want right now is to look him in the eye. He knows too many things about me, and I want to find out why. He doesn’t want just any of us, it’s me he’s after.’

‘But this is absurd, Michele! We’ve got NOCS… he’s surrounded… there are the helicopters…’

‘There’s no point going round in circles, Francesco. If you can see an alternative, tell me now.’

‘But —’

‘I’m going, Francesco, it’s me he wants.’

And he set off towards the door of the building with his hands up, without looking back at all, following the suggested path marked by white wooden poles.

The sixty seconds were already almost up.

There was nothing but a tomb-like silence all around.

When he was a few yards from the door, Ferrara stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. Genius had not given him any scope for negotiation. If he had not followed his instructions to the letter, he would have put too many lives at risk – Guendalina’s, his men’s, perhaps even innocent children’s – and he couldn’t allow that.

Anyway, this wasn’t the first time he had found himself in such a situation. In his days in Calabria, in high-risk operations against the ’Ndrangheta, he had always been at the head of the team. Always the first to step forward when they needed to bring in dangerous fugitives who were willing to kill. The fact remained that in the past things had always turned out all right in the end.

Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. Instinct might not be much help against this madman, whose moves were impossible to anticipate. But he had no choice and, now that he was only a few steps away, he certainly couldn’t go back.

He took another deep breath, filling his lungs, and continued up the small slope to the front door.

When he was just a few feet away from it, he stopped and waited. He looked around and listened carefully. There was no sound, not even from inside. He pondered whether he should knock or ring the bell, which he could just make out to the right of the door thanks to the light from his colleagues’ torches. He imagined Genius standing behind the door with his gun still pointed at the woman’s head. He took another step forward and found himself just an inch or two from a neat dark green doormat with the word
WELCOME
on it.

He turned towards his colleagues for a moment, as if for advice, then steeled himself and raised his foot to step on the mat.

As soon as his foot came to rest on the letter C, there was a huge explosion, then another immediately after it, then a third.

Soon the whole area was lit up by the explosions. They looked like fireworks.

Ferrara was blown backwards. A wave of heat seemed to envelop him. He could taste smoke and gunpowder in his mouth.

He touched his chest and found the torn remains of his shirt, reduced almost to shreds. Then he felt a burning sensation, passed his hand across his forehead and saw blood. His hair felt sticky and there was a slight pain in his right ankle.

He heard shouting behind him. He could clearly distinguish Rizzo’s voice calling him from among a lot of other voices.

He spotted Rizzo lying on the ground. With some difficulty, he managed to get up and run to him. There was a cut on his left cheek, although it did not look especially deep.

He helped him up.

‘Fuck, Michele, I really thought I was going to die this time… That bastard…’

‘I thought the worst too. But we’re both alive, thank God.’ He ran his fingers through the shredded remains of his shirt. ‘A good thing I was wearing a bulletproof vest.’

Ferrara slung Rizzo’s arm over his shoulder and walked him to a car.

He looked around and saw that other officers had been injured too.

Genius had mined the whole area around the house with remote control devices. But there was no trace of him.

Was he still shut up in the former convent or had he taken advantage of the opportunity to escape?

He looked up towards the house and noticed that one of the explosions had blown the door off its hinges, leaving a rectangle of light through which smoke continued to billow out.

Or had he been injured too?

Ferrara was pondering his next move, whether to rush in through the door or not, when the silence of the valley was shattered by the loud roar of an engine. It came from the back of the house.

In the blink of an eye, a large four-by-four stopped right in front of them.

‘Don’t shoot!’ he ordered his men. He was in their line of fire. He let go of Rizzo’s arm, and walked slowly towards the four-by-four with his hands up. In the light of the dashboard, which was still on even though the first glimmer of dawn was starting to appear, he saw Guendalina sitting terrified in the passenger seat with the gun still aimed at her head.

Genius lowered the window and, with a wild laugh, cried, ‘Go to hell, Chief Superintendent!’

He had laid the perfect trap, and they had walked straight into it. Ferrara looked at him and was immediately struck by the expression in his eyes. They really were a madman’s eyes. He held that depraved gaze for a few moments and felt a shiver run down his spine.