Read Online A Florentine Death by Michele Giuttari - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michele Giuttari
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Rizzo said. 'Maybe it was the work of a religious fanatic, or a psychopath, maybe someone who went inside the shop because one of the religious objects on display reminded him of some terrible thing in his past. Once he was inside, he saw the assistant and for some reason he was like the embodiment of whatever it was that had happened to him. He flew into a rage and killed him.'
'I don't like it,' Ferrara said. 'It's too literary, too much like a novel. But we can't rule it out completely. It could provide a connection between the murder in the Via Santo Spirito and the one in Greve. The latest victim also worked in a shop full of religious objects. Though the fact that the killer used a gun in this case rather contradicts the idea of a sudden fit of rage. But I wouldn't rule out the idea that there's a homicidal religious fanatic walking the streets. Maybe he carries a gun for self defence.'
'In my opinion, Alfredo Lupi was the intended victim,' Rizzo said. 'I think the murder was premeditated. Let's look into his private life, find out if it's true that he had no enemies.'
'Good idea. What about you, Sergi, what do you think?'
So far Serpico had remained silent, seeming slightly embarrassed in front of his superiors. Ferrara had noticed, and was anxious to bring him into the discussion.
'I agree with you, but . . .' he hesitated. 'Well, I wouldn't dismiss the idea that there's a connection with the antiques racket. We all know how big it is in Florence, especially in San Frediano. Don't forget, the shop used to belong to Ricciardi. There may still be some underworld involvement. Maybe Lupi knew too much. Maybe he'd somehow found out something he shouldn't and paid for it with his life.'
'Good. I think we have more than enough to be getting on with. Right, let's divide it up this way. Rizzo, you look into Lupi's private life. Violante, check the religious angle. Sergi and I will concentrate on the underworld aspect. Let's see if any of our informers know anything. We may even get a tip-off.'
Like all policemen, he knew that most cases are solved thanks to tip-offs from informers, and that whole careers have been built on such things.
Once the jobs had been assigned, Ferrara stayed in his office for a few more hours. He signed the final report on the case of the old couple in Coverciano, looked through some of the files on his desk, wrote a report on the Lupi case for the prosecutor, and got on with various bits of minor business.
By the time he got home, it was after nine. As so often in the past, the first of January had been just another working day.
Petra had his dinner ready for him: sardines in grated cheese baked in the oven, one of Ferrara's favourite dishes. Petra was in a good mood - surprisingly so, he thought, when she showed him the latest anonymous message, which she had found among the mail that had accumulated while they were away in Vienna.
Perhaps because of her down-to-earth nature, or because time had passed and nothing had happened, Petra had quickly got over the shock of the first message and now seemed to regard these things as the work of some crackpot, not be taken too seriously. Especially as this one was very different from the first, both in tone and form.
There were no red stains, and the message had been produced on a laser printer. It read:
Dear Superintendent Gatto
Did you know that in the Kingdom of the Dead the last are already the first, but where the letters are concerned the first will be the last? Or is smoking cigars the only thing you know, you poor man?
That was all. No direct threat.
It was still possible that the two messages were not linked, although it did not escape Ferrara that both had arrived in conjunction with a particularly violent and mysterious crime. On the other hand, the new one could have arrived at any time while they were away, so it might not necessarily be linked to the previous day's murder. Nor was there any proof that the previous
'I don't like it,' Ferrara said. 'It's too literary, too much like a novel. But we can't rule it out completely. It could provide a connection between the murder in the Via Santo Spirito and the one in Greve. The latest victim also worked in a shop full of religious objects. Though the fact that the killer used a gun in this case rather contradicts the idea of a sudden fit of rage. But I wouldn't rule out the idea that there's a homicidal religious fanatic walking the streets. Maybe he carries a gun for self defence.'
'In my opinion, Alfredo Lupi was the intended victim,' Rizzo said. 'I think the murder was premeditated. Let's look into his private life, find out if it's true that he had no enemies.'
'Good idea. What about you, Sergi, what do you think?'
So far Serpico had remained silent, seeming slightly embarrassed in front of his superiors. Ferrara had noticed, and was anxious to bring him into the discussion.
'I agree with you, but . . .' he hesitated. 'Well, I wouldn't dismiss the idea that there's a connection with the antiques racket. We all know how big it is in Florence, especially in San Frediano. Don't forget, the shop used to belong to Ricciardi. There may still be some underworld involvement. Maybe Lupi knew too much. Maybe he'd somehow found out something he shouldn't and paid for it with his life.'
'Good. I think we have more than enough to be getting on with. Right, let's divide it up this way. Rizzo, you look into Lupi's private life. Violante, check the religious angle. Sergi and I will concentrate on the underworld aspect. Let's see if any of our informers know anything. We may even get a tip-off.'
Like all policemen, he knew that most cases are solved thanks to tip-offs from informers, and that whole careers have been built on such things.
Once the jobs had been assigned, Ferrara stayed in his office for a few more hours. He signed the final report on the case of the old couple in Coverciano, looked through some of the files on his desk, wrote a report on the Lupi case for the prosecutor, and got on with various bits of minor business.
By the time he got home, it was after nine. As so often in the past, the first of January had been just another working day.
Petra had his dinner ready for him: sardines in grated cheese baked in the oven, one of Ferrara's favourite dishes. Petra was in a good mood - surprisingly so, he thought, when she showed him the latest anonymous message, which she had found among the mail that had accumulated while they were away in Vienna.
Perhaps because of her down-to-earth nature, or because time had passed and nothing had happened, Petra had quickly got over the shock of the first message and now seemed to regard these things as the work of some crackpot, not be taken too seriously. Especially as this one was very different from the first, both in tone and form.
There were no red stains, and the message had been produced on a laser printer. It read:
Dear Superintendent Gatto
Did you know that in the Kingdom of the Dead the last are already the first, but where the letters are concerned the first will be the last? Or is smoking cigars the only thing you know, you poor man?
That was all. No direct threat.
It was still possible that the two messages were not linked, although it did not escape Ferrara that both had arrived in conjunction with a particularly violent and mysterious crime. On the other hand, the new one could have arrived at any time while they were away, so it might not necessarily be linked to the previous day's murder. Nor was there any proof that the previous
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