Read Online The Dark Heart of Florence: Number 6 in series (Michele Ferrara) by Michele Giuttari - Free Book Online
Authors: Michele Giuttari
Ads: Link
the eyes as if trying to understand his problems.
He took a small sealed package with a silvery bow from his jacket pocket and handed it to her with a little smile. ‘As you can see,’ he said, ‘I didn’t forget.’
It was the anniversary of their first meeting. They had met on Lampedusa, a dream island where they had set the seal on their love under a canvas tent. Their matchmaker had been Massimo Verga, Ferrara’s oldest and most trusted friend, now the owner of a bookshop in the Via Tornabuoni.
‘I was sure you hadn’t,’ Petra said, unwrapping the package.
She held the small shell-shaped leather box in her hands for a moment, then lifted the lid. Her eyes lit up at the sight of a red ruby necklace with matching earrings. They took her breath away.
They came from a jeweller’s on the Ponte Vecchio, the true heart of Florence.
Petra took out the earrings and immediately put them in her ears, then asked her husband to help her with the necklace. He moved her hair out of the way and closed the clasp at the end of the fine chain.
‘They’re stunning, Michele. What a wonderful present! Thank you.’
‘They look perfect on you.’
‘Thank you again, darling. But you’re mad to get me a present like this – God knows how much they must have cost you!’
He shrugged.
‘The best present, though,’ she went on, with that smile he loved so much, ‘is that you remembered in spite of all you had to do on a busy day.’
‘Actually I bought them a few days ago. The jeweller was very helpful. He ordered exactly what I asked for. But if you don’t like them, you can always change them.’
‘No. They’re just what I wanted.’
He went to the bathroom to wash his hands then came back and sat at the table. Petra had been admiring herself in the mirror while she waited for him.
They enjoyed a meal of roast lamb with potato and aubergine gratin, accompanied by a truly delicious classic Chianti, Rocca di Montegrossi 1997 reserve from the San Marcellino vineyard. They had first drunk it while having dinner at their favourite restaurant, Giovanni’s in the Via del Moro.
As they ate, she told him about her day: how she had started writing a fashion article for the magazine she had been working for since the previous year when Michele had been in Rome.
He actually had seconds. His exhaustion had done nothing to diminish his appetite. And the lamb really was delicious.
15
He had seen the item on a local channel.
Stock footage of the city had been followed by shots of the villa where the crime had taken place, filmed from a distance. Then Police Headquarters, with a few officers outside. Their exhaustion was clearly visible on their pale faces, along with suspicion and confusion.
The camera had lingered on the face of Teresa Micalizi.
The reporter for the item was the one who usually handled crime stories, and he embroidered his presentation with a few unconfirmed rumours. ‘The police are looking for a professional killer who may have come from another city. They are keeping a watch on airports and railway stations and at tollbooths along the main roads. Roadblocks are in place at strategic points.’
In the end he had pressed the button on the remote to switch the TV off.
What idiots they were, looking for a professional killer! They were only capable of seeing what was in front of their eyes and jumping to the most obvious conclusions.
The first twenty-four hours had passed. That was good, very good. They’d be hearing from him soon. He’d give anything to see the face of that ‘legendary’ Chief Superintendent when he…
In just a few hours, he was going to make him look a complete fool, and the rest of the Florentine police force with him!
He knew a lot about that legendary Chief Superintendent. He had read about him in the newspapers, had seen him on television, speaking at press conferences or making brief public statements at crime scenes.
He was very familiar with the case of the Monster
He took a small sealed package with a silvery bow from his jacket pocket and handed it to her with a little smile. ‘As you can see,’ he said, ‘I didn’t forget.’
It was the anniversary of their first meeting. They had met on Lampedusa, a dream island where they had set the seal on their love under a canvas tent. Their matchmaker had been Massimo Verga, Ferrara’s oldest and most trusted friend, now the owner of a bookshop in the Via Tornabuoni.
‘I was sure you hadn’t,’ Petra said, unwrapping the package.
She held the small shell-shaped leather box in her hands for a moment, then lifted the lid. Her eyes lit up at the sight of a red ruby necklace with matching earrings. They took her breath away.
They came from a jeweller’s on the Ponte Vecchio, the true heart of Florence.
Petra took out the earrings and immediately put them in her ears, then asked her husband to help her with the necklace. He moved her hair out of the way and closed the clasp at the end of the fine chain.
‘They’re stunning, Michele. What a wonderful present! Thank you.’
‘They look perfect on you.’
‘Thank you again, darling. But you’re mad to get me a present like this – God knows how much they must have cost you!’
He shrugged.
‘The best present, though,’ she went on, with that smile he loved so much, ‘is that you remembered in spite of all you had to do on a busy day.’
‘Actually I bought them a few days ago. The jeweller was very helpful. He ordered exactly what I asked for. But if you don’t like them, you can always change them.’
‘No. They’re just what I wanted.’
He went to the bathroom to wash his hands then came back and sat at the table. Petra had been admiring herself in the mirror while she waited for him.
They enjoyed a meal of roast lamb with potato and aubergine gratin, accompanied by a truly delicious classic Chianti, Rocca di Montegrossi 1997 reserve from the San Marcellino vineyard. They had first drunk it while having dinner at their favourite restaurant, Giovanni’s in the Via del Moro.
As they ate, she told him about her day: how she had started writing a fashion article for the magazine she had been working for since the previous year when Michele had been in Rome.
He actually had seconds. His exhaustion had done nothing to diminish his appetite. And the lamb really was delicious.
15
He had seen the item on a local channel.
Stock footage of the city had been followed by shots of the villa where the crime had taken place, filmed from a distance. Then Police Headquarters, with a few officers outside. Their exhaustion was clearly visible on their pale faces, along with suspicion and confusion.
The camera had lingered on the face of Teresa Micalizi.
The reporter for the item was the one who usually handled crime stories, and he embroidered his presentation with a few unconfirmed rumours. ‘The police are looking for a professional killer who may have come from another city. They are keeping a watch on airports and railway stations and at tollbooths along the main roads. Roadblocks are in place at strategic points.’
In the end he had pressed the button on the remote to switch the TV off.
What idiots they were, looking for a professional killer! They were only capable of seeing what was in front of their eyes and jumping to the most obvious conclusions.
The first twenty-four hours had passed. That was good, very good. They’d be hearing from him soon. He’d give anything to see the face of that ‘legendary’ Chief Superintendent when he…
In just a few hours, he was going to make him look a complete fool, and the rest of the Florentine police force with him!
He knew a lot about that legendary Chief Superintendent. He had read about him in the newspapers, had seen him on television, speaking at press conferences or making brief public statements at crime scenes.
He was very familiar with the case of the Monster
Similar Books
