Viper

97

ROS Quartiere Generale (Anti-Camorra Unit), Napoli Ricardo Mazerelli apologized as his cellphone rang in the middle of the carabinieri interview. He turned it off, let the voicemail deal with it and then switched his attention to Pietro Raimondi. 'Lieutenant, I called because I hoped you could deal with today's developments within the framework of our new relationship. Do we have an understanding here?'

'Of course.' Raimondi gave the hint of a smile.

Valsi scowled at his brief, then leaned over towards the officer. 'I want to give a full interview and I want to give it now. That's presuming a piece of shit like you can actually write.'

The lieutenant had never been the type to allow himself to be intimidated. The two men stared at each other. Less than a metre of air separated them. Valsi didn't frighten him. 'Signor Mazerelli, tell your client to watch his foul and offensive mouth, or he'll need a dentist and will be spending a lot longer in here than he needs to.'

Raimondi heard a voice of calmness in his ear: 'Keep it cool, Pietro.' Not the voice of his inner self, but that of anti-Camorra boss Lorenzo Pisano, whispering through a micro-receiver earpiece.

'We'll take your written statement in good time,' said the lieutenant politely. 'Please be patient, I have just a few more preliminary questions.'

'Very good,' said Lorenzo in his earpiece. Raimondi had gone straight to him after interviewing Antonio Castellani, and the major had pulled his strings ever since. If all went well, Raimondi would be in line for promotion and a big salary rise. He'd probably need a transfer too. He and Lorenzo had put Sylvia in the picture only moments before starting the interview with Valsi.

Standing in the darkness of the monitor room, she watched the interview unfold and told Jack how Pietro had deceived her.

'I understand the need for confidentiality. Of course I do. But damn it, he could have trusted me.'

Jack chose not to comment. Local business was always quicksand and best avoided. 'What's Valsi's game, walking in here all lawyered-up? Why do that? Why not make your guys chase around after him?'

Sylvia cleared her head of Pietro. 'I'm thinking the same. Maybe he was just spooked by someone whacking his guard and thought here was a safe place to be until he could mobilize muscle and ammunition.'

Jack studied the young Cammorista. Spooked was a word that didn't fit. The man exuded violence. It glowed around him like a force field. Nope, he wasn't buying spooked.

'You tempted to ask him about Kristen Petrov? Or maybe drop Francesca Di Lauro's name in his lap and see if he jumps like you spilled hot water on his gonads?'

'Very tempted,' said Sylvia, 'especially as Bernadetta Di Lauro told me this morning that five years ago Francesca may have been having an affair with a married man.'

'Valsi and Francesca?' Jack pondered on it. Fire and ice. A striking couple.

'But I think we should wait. I have no forensics to link him to either woman. Not yet. Things might change in the next few days.'

'If that dead guard is the start of a turf war, then things are going to change mighty fast and Valsi could be pushing up daisies in a few days' time.'

Their attention returned to the TV monitor. Pietro was asking the Capo Zona about his movements last night. Who he'd been with? Who could alibi him? Valsi was toying with Raimondi. Promising to show him footage of the woman he'd fucked all night, a woman who wouldn't look twice at a streak of carabinieri piss like him.

Sylvia's phone rang. She moved quickly to the back of the room to take it and then hurried outside. There was someone in reception, directed there by the Incident Room, and it was urgent.

Lorenzo flicked a talkback switch on the control panel. 'Pietro, ask Valsi about Alberta.'

Raimondi did as he was told. 'Signor Valsi, the body of the key witness in your trial, Alberta Tortoricci, turned up in Scampia…'

'We're leaving,' interjected Ricardo Mazerelli.

'She was found with her tongue cut out…'

'My client has no knowledge of, or connection with, the incident you're describing.'

Valsi looked bored. He checked his watch and yawned.

The Capo stood up and slowly shook the creases out of his trousers and slid his jacket on.

'She'd been tortured to death. Electrocuted and burned…'

'We have no further comment to make.' Mazerelli had to push his client towards the door, otherwise he'd have stood there all day patting his mouth in mockery.

Valsi checked his watch again and bit back a smile. By his reckoning, the Don and the Dog should both already be dead. Murdered at exactly the time he had the world's best cast-iron alibi, courtesy of the carabinieri.

And any moment, many more of his problems would be solved.