Read Online The Bastards of Pizzofalcone by Maurizio de Giovanni, Antony Shugaar - Free Book Online

sprang to his feet, ready for action. Lojacono, on the other hand, turned a gaze of mute supplication in the commissario’s direction; his commanding officer took great care not to meet his eyes, studiously looking elsewhere.
    â€œI’ll drive, I know exactly where that is,” the young man had said, grabbing for the sheet of paper with the directions.
    Palma had shrugged: “Do as you like, there’s no hurry; two squad cars are already on the scene, and the medical examiner and the forensic team are on their way. This time of day there’s a lot of traffic.”
    Lojacono, putting on his coat, replied sardonically: “Oh, there is? When you have a minute, could you draw up a chart for me of the times when there isn’t a lot of traffic in this city? Maybe on August 15th, when the whole city’s at the beach?”
    They’d taken a compact, unmarked car that had been parked in the courtyard. Aragona had the engine running before Lojacono got in the car, and he screeched out of the parking spot before the lieutenant’s feet were in the car.
    â€œAragona, have you lost your mind? Are you trying to run someone over? The way you’re driving, our first official act in this precinct will be to run over a few locals, and you know how much they love us already.”
    The young man drove as if the streets were empty, causing the pedestrians in their path to bolt. Out of the corner of his eye, Lojacono saw a little old lady darting to one side just in the nick of time, with a leap worthy of a classical ballerina; he agreed wholeheartedly with the stream of angry dialect she showered in the driver’s direction, even if he couldn’t understand a single word.
    â€œCalm down, Loja’, don’t worry. I took a course in performance driving, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
    â€œJust where did you take this course, in prison? You heard him say there’s no hurry, didn’t you? Why the fuck are you going so fast?”
    Aragona kept his foot on the accelerator.
    â€œIt’s quite an honor to work with you. Fuck, the man who nailed the Crocodile! For weeks, no one in this city talked about anything but you and how you made all the other precincts working on the case look like pieces of shit. You’re a legend!”
    Clutching the door handle, Lojacono said through clenched teeth: “Not that it did me a lot of good, though. It’s not as if they let me go home.”
    â€œEh, well, that’s a horse of a different color. From what I’ve heard, someone back home thinks that, even if there’s no evidence against you, you must have been in touch with those people somehow. But don’t give up hope, if you do a good job, maybe they really will send you back home.”
    Lojacono looked over at his colleague’s profile, watching him as he did his best to kill anyone who threatened to hinder his rapid progress.
    â€œWhat do you know about my me and business, Arago’?”
    â€œAh, I know plenty, actually. I told you before, I used to work at police headquarters. That’s where all the documents wind up, and if you have the right connections, you can find out anything you want to know. For instance, when this opportunity opened up in Pizzofalcone, I read the files on all the characters the various precincts had volunteered in the hopes of getting rid of them. A fine assortment of losers.”
    â€œIn that case, why on earth did
you
volunteer? From what I’ve heard, you could have found yourself a much more comfortable berth somewhere else, no?”
    â€œNo, for me this place is perfect, believe me. Just think: a very serious crime took place here, which ruined the whole department’s reputation. They wanted to shut this precinct down, and sure enough, they sent us the worst cops they could lay their hands on. Are you with me so far?”
    Lojacono had noticed that, when Aragona spoke, he slowed down ever so