Death in Tuscany (57 page)

The woman returned with the coffee.

'Rinuzza, if you could leave us alone, we have important things to talk about,' he ordered as soon as his wife had finished serving him.

'So maybe you could refresh my memory,' he said to Ferrara. 'Who is this woman and why should I know her?'

'She's the owner, or rather the leaseholder, of the marble quarries contracted out to a company called Mining Extractions Ltd, which is based in Bellomonte di Mezzo. I think that's your home town, isn't it? And you know where the woman is because she was abducted by an Albanian who either still has her or has already given her back.'

Laprua did not move a muscle. He had his hands together and continued to look fixedly at Ferrara.

'It sounds like something from a TV movie,' he said at last. 'You must excuse me . . .'

He was only trying to gain time - it was clear that this policeman knew too much.

'But you know perfectly well that's not the case.'

Another long silence followed.

'Let's say it's the way you say it is . . . why should I help you?'

'Because I know everything . . .' - he looked him straight in the eyes - '. . . Zi Turi.'

The use of that nickname had abruptly moved the game onto another level.

'Or rather, not everything. I don't know where Simonetta is, or if the man who was with her is still alive or not.'

He said this, knowing he was giving his adversary an advantage. In negotiations, you always had to have something to bargain with. The man ought to have had the impression that they were playing on equal terms.

And what if I told you that I don't know anything about any of this?' Laprua said, though he must have been aware that this was just another pointless delaying tactic.

'Then I'd tell you about some kilos of heroin hidden in blocks of marble currently in storage at the port of Carrara, ready to be sent to the United States. I'd tell you that I'm sorry for you, but those blocks will never get to their destination. And I'd also tell you about three trawlers named after your sons which sometimes fish way out at sea, a long way out, and come back with a large quantity of fish - fish which have already been filled . . . Do you want me to go on?'

But the man had already made a gesture with his hand for Ferrara to stop. 'Chief Superintendent, we're both Sicilians -both men of honour
...
If you think you know all these things, why don't you arrest me?'

'Because I can't.'

'So what do you want from me? Money?'

'You'd make me a millionaire if I wanted, right? No, Zi Turi, that's not why I need your help. I told you: I need you to find someone, that's all.'

'Why are you so interested?'

Ferrara thought before answering. 'Have you ever had a friend?'

Salvatore Laprua looked at him, and it seemed to Ferrara that his eyes clouded over for a moment. 'If I help you, what do I get in return?'

'I can keep you out of this drugs investigation.'

Am I supposed to believe the police, at my age?' he sneered.

'I'm not asking you to believe the police, Zi Turi. I'm asking you to believe Michele Ferrara.'

Laprua weighed this up for a few moments. 'Ferrara the man may be able to do it, I see it in your eyes. You're a man of respect. But not Ferrara the policeman! You can't betray the State that you serve
...
I could do what I can to find your friend, but after you find him, you won't need me any more.'

'In life there always comes a moment when we have to compromise. I am and will always be a policeman, I'm not pretending I want to go over to your side to buy your help, and you wouldn't believe me anyway. What I will do is break up your racket, and you can't do anything about that. And then what will Zi Turi be? Just an old man living with his wife, as far as I can see. Why should I put an old man in prison?'

Could he believe him? Laprua must have been thinking. But above all, did he have any choice?

'If what you're telling me is true, putting the handcuffs on me would make you a hero,' he said after a while. 'Is this friendship worth sacrificing that for?'

'It's worth a lot more.'

In a roundabout way, the old man started putting his cards on the table. 'Chief Superintendent, I was born in Bellomonte di Mezzo. Do you know it? A poor place, a really poor place. No work, not even unpaid work. I grew up poor
...
I had two choices: stay poor or take an oath that bound me for the rest of my life . . . Am I making myself clear?'

'You're making yourself very clear.'

'I chose the second option. I was only young. Over the years, I took other oaths and made other promises . . . Do you understand what I'm saying?'

'Yes.'

'I started to work at an honest job, but then after a while I had to keep the promises I'd made. Those are the kind of promises you keep!'

Or else you're a dead man,
Ferrara thought.

Now you're the one making a promise to me,' Laprua said.

'And it'll be kept. But you have to be honest with me.'

They looked at each other for an unusually long time.

'So be it,' Laprua said, seeming satisfied at last.

'Where is Simonetta Palladiani?' 'The Albanian still has her.' 'Viktor Makregi?'

'You did your work well,' Laprua replied, with genuine admiration.

'Does he still have the man who was with her?' Ferrara asked, somewhat apprehensively. 'Yes, he took the two of them.' And are they both . . . still alive?' 'The woman for sure.' 'What about the man?' 'I don't know'

Ferrara preferred to dismiss that answer. 'Why do you care so much about the woman?'

'Because she has to renew the lease on the marble quarries. More than that, she has to go in person to the town hall to negotiate the renewal of the lease. You probably know that with the new laws the leaseholders don't have the leases forever, and if the woman loses that lease we're screwed! She's already two years late. Her husband managed to put it off, but now the time's up.'

'How did you know about her?'

'Through her husband. I met him when his business was in trouble and I gave him a hand in return for the lease on the quarries. I tell you, it was the best deal of my life. The woman doesn't know anything about it. She signed and that was it, she's not interested in the quarries.'

And what about Viktor, how did he know?'

About Simonetta, you mean?' Laprua smiled ruefully. 'By chance. He went to kill Ugo Palladiani over some woman, from what I gathered . . . The guy was always a good for nothing, a wastrel - Palladiani, I mean. To try to save himself, he told the Albanian he could make him rich, gave him the whole story about our agreement and what we're doing in the quarries. The Albanian realised the woman was a good bargaining counter and took her, along with the man who was with her . . . Then he started to make demands.'

'Why didn't he give her back to you, since you'd already agreed to give him ten kilos of heroin?'

'You already know why. Because he didn't get the heroin, and he says it's our fault because the man who was driving the car was one of ours.'

'So he wants more?'

'Lots more . . . he's increased his demands. He wants three times more. And if it goes wrong again this time he says he'll increase it ten times.'

'So now he wants thirty kilos?' Ferrara said, astonished. And are you prepared to give it to him?'

What can I do? If I don't pay he kills the woman and we're out of the quarries. The municipality doesn't want "foreigners". We'd never get the quarries back.'

'But someone like you surely doesn't have to give in to blackmail? Why didn't you take the initiative and go and track down the Albanian?'

We tried. But he's good at hiding himself.'

'He must have a mobile phone or something?'

Laprua shook his head. 'He's always the one who calls me. I can't call him.'

'How come?'

'He sends me a text message on my mobile. A number from one to five. The numbers correspond to five public telephones in this area, and when I see the number I have to go to that particular phone. He calls me from another public phone, after half an hour, and then every half-hour until he reaches me.'

It was a simple and ingenious system. They would never be able to intercept a conversation between the two men. Ferrara asked Laprua for the locations of the five phones and also his own mobile number. The number corresponded to the one they were already tapping along with his house phone.

'If you want to pay, why haven't you done it?' he asked. 'It's now nearly two weeks since the first attempt misfired.'

The old man looked surprised. 'Do you think I can get hold of thirty kilos of heroin just like that?'

'You have it now, though, don't you?' Ferrara said, thinking of the fish van.

'Yes, I have it now.'

'And does he know?'

'Yes. I told him the new consignment was arriving on Saturday'

'So he'll get in touch.' 'Oh, yes!'

'Good. How will the swap be done this time?'

'I don't know. He has to give me instructions.'