Viper

83

ROS Quartiere Generale, Napoli Unlike Sylvia, Jack had not slept well. He was still yawning when the driver dropped him outside Lorenzo Pisano's office. Armed guards patrolled the outside of the carabinieri building and questioned him at length before he was let into reception, let alone escorted to the anti-Camorra unit.

The major had already been in for more than an hour. A childless marriage in his late twenties had ended in divorce in his early forties. Now work was all he had left.

They made little small talk and got straight down to business – Bruno Valsi's criminal record and his family history.

'Take a look at these.' Lorenzo dropped the rap sheet and briefing notes in front of Jack. 'Valsi was a real problem kid in a real problem area. You want caffe?'

'Sure – whatever you've got. Espresso, if possible, please.'

Lorenzo fired up an ancient Gaggia in the corner of his office. 'Valsi's father died in some industrial accident, when he was a baby. His mother brought him up on her own.'

'Anything more on his father's death?'

'Not much. I can dig around and find the full details. I know a boiler blew. One of those decrepit gas and oil combination jobs. It exploded and old man Valsi and two of his workmates died in a fire at the back of the factory.'

Jack digested the facts. Could such a tragedy become a future trigger for offending? He certainly couldn't rule it out. Was there a tenuous link there with fire and suffering?

Lorenzo shovelled freshly ground Arabica into the machine and sniffed at the last teaspoon before closing the container. 'Valsi lived most of his life in Scampia, an area that's been a Camorra stronghold for as long as I can remember. It's the kind of place that brands you, inks a tattoo on your soul. Tortoricci's body was found less than a kilometre from where Valsi was born.'

'Stupid question, but Forensics didn't find anything to link Valsi to the woman or the body?'

'Not a thing. I had the labs run comparison tests with Valsi's fingerprints, his DNA profile and all the trace evidence. I've also asked for his dabs and DNA to be checked against all the trace evidence in the Castellani campsite murders. So far, nothing.'

Jack wasn't surprised. Thugs as brutal as Valsi were usually careful thugs. He flicked through more of the rap sheet. 'Back in his early childhood, he was arrested several times but never charged. We talking routine stop and search, or was he lawyered-up even then?'

Lorenzo laughed. 'Camorra do that. For the good kids, they treat them good, get them top briefs. Other kids, the ones they don't want, they disown, let them get wasted. The cream of the crop are looked after, though. They make them feel protected and have them back on the streets before Sesame Street has finished. Valsi was cream – creme de la creme. He ran "errands" and pushed drugs before he even pushed a bike. But prior to the big witness intimidation case that put him away, we never got a mark against him.'

'A boy soldier?'

'Si, piciotto. The Camorra has armies of them across Campania. They rope in kids like Valsi and soon they're willing to kill in return for a new Vespa. Children are the cheapest contract killers you can hire.'

Jack read the sheet again. Assault against a male – charges dropped. Assault against three other men – charges dropped. 'These aborted charges – we talking fists or weapons?'

'Early ones were fists. Street fights, bar fights. Polizia did catch him with a weapon once. A semi-automatic. Beretta, I think. They even got as far as charging him.'

'And?'

Lorenzo smiled. 'The gun disappeared before the ink had even dried on the crime sheet. No evidence, no case. They never even got it in front of a magistrate.'

'I understand. We've got our share of bent cops back home.'

'Hasn't everyone?' He tapped the rap sheet. 'Gets even more interesting as he gets older. In his late teens, he wounded a guy. It was the father of a girl he was dating. Old man had had a few drinks and told Valsi he should stay away from his daughter, said she deserved better than drug-dealing scum like him. Valsi beat him senseless and then left him on a kitchen seat with a knife through his pants and a testicle pinned to the chair.'

Jack couldn't help but grimace.

'Sliced him up so bad that the guy had to have one of his balls removed.'

Jack flicked through the rest of the notes. There were police black and whites buried in there of Valsi as a kid and as a teenager. He looked young and innocent. No hint of the evil within. Jack had seen dozens of pictures of apple-fresh kids who their mothers worshipped. Perfect sons. They'd all grown up to become monsters far worse than Valsi.

'Have you got anything against him for attacks on women, or was it all macho shit?'

'Some of both.' Lorenzo drew breath as he recalled his next story. 'Same girl. When she did finally come to her senses and dumped him, was kidnapped and taken to an old school building. There, six of Valsi's goons sat on her arms, legs and chest while he personally sewed up her vagina.'

'Christ! And you couldn't put him away for that?'

Lorenzo shrugged. 'Wish we could've. Kid didn't even come to us. We heard it on the street. Local doctor who treated her even denied he'd seen her for as much as a cold. We guessed Valsi had threatened to do much worse to anyone who said anything.'

Jack looked down at the photographs again. Strong face, good teeth, most women would probably say he had nice eyes. All proof that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. 'How old was he at this time?'

'I think the coffee's about there.' Lorenzo headed back to the Gaggia. 'He was eighteen, maybe nineteen. Not long after that he hooked up with Gina Finelli.'

'Don Fredo's daughter?'

'The very same. Not that she had much of a calming influence on him. Sometimes marriage and babies settle a guy down. Not Bruno. His reputation for meanness and cruelty just kept growing. We all heaved a sigh of relief when we took him down. Now the bastard is back out there, the air is poisoned again. You want sugar?'

'No, thanks. Thick and black's fine.' Jack searched for more pictures. 'You got surveillance on him at the moment?'

'Best we can. But he's savvy. And we don't have unlimited funds. Plus, there aren't many officers keen for that kind of chore.'

Jack found a couple of long-range telephoto pics at the back of the briefing pack. They were all similar. Smart suit jacket dangling over his right shoulder, crisp expensive shirt partly opened, sunglasses on, head turned to the side. The guy sure took a good shot.

'Here you go.' Lorenzo handed over a small off-white espresso cup.

'Thanks.'

Thoughts as thick and dark as the coffee brewed inside the profiler's head. Bruno Valsi was clearly an egotist, confident and sure of his power. He was also a brutal sadist, devoid of emotion. Worse than all that, he was clever and charismatic enough to command others to follow him. The Tortoricci case was proof that he was the kind of man who could torture and kill a woman. The cold, efficient and breathtakingly arrogant murder of Sorrentino was also very much his style. All in all, he was a formidable package of trouble.

'You're thinking that you want to interview this guy?' asked Lorenzo.

Jack looked up from the photographs and sipped the espresso. It was hot, sharp and good. 'No, not at all. I'm thinking I want to interview his wife.'

'His wife?'

'Valsi won't tell us anything more than his records already do, or his father-in-law already did. But get me half an hour with his wife and I promise you we'll have everything we need on him.'

'Finish your coffee, and we'll fix it. I know exactly where she's going to be this morning.'