Read Online The Deliverance of Evil by Roberto Costantini - Free Book Online

for the unsuccessful, obviously.
    Better to starve to death than find yourself at fifty still in the service of this fucking country.
    Besides, as my high school teachers said, Michele Balistreri didn’t recognize authority either by age or profession. “Severe problem with ignoring authority, linked to childhood traumas in his relationship with his father” as the psychologist diagnosed years later when he examined me for recruitment into the Secret Service.
    “I’ve already arranged for a bulletin to be issued, Teodori,” I said. I used just his last name, no title, exactly as he’d addressed me. Then I looked at Cardinal Alessandrini. “But I see that divine justice considers this insufficient.”
    Teodori’s face got red, but Alessandrini smiled.
    Real power wears a mask of cheerfulness .
    “Don’t take this the wrong way and please excuse me, Captain Balistreri,” he said, emphasizing the title for Teodori’s benefit, “but there are precise rules to follow in these situations, and you have followed them. In my opinion, however, this is not a normal situation.”
    And obviously between my judgment and his, it was his that counted for more. I didn’t refer to this in any way—there was no need. Besides, the presence of Teodori bore ample witness to it.
    “The cardinal knows Elisa Sordi and her family well, and he says it is highly unlikely that she has stayed away for so long,” Teodori explained, as if I were a stupid child.
    I decided not to help extricate Teodori from the difficult situation by telling him what he should do.
    He turned to the cardinal, a little embarrassed.
    “Naturally, Your Eminence,” he said, “Captain Balistreri has followed the proper procedures.”
    I noticed the slight trembling of his sweaty hands. The room was stiflingly hot, despite the fact that the window was open. Elisa’s flower was still sitting on the windowsill.
    “The rapid response team will handle this case from now on. The local precinct will continue its investigations, but they’re going to be stepped up,” Teodori continued, addressing the cardinal.
    I looked at Capuzzo, who was staring at the floor. It wasn’t true; there was nothing to step up. Teodori was telling the cardinal a lie.
    The cardinal read my thoughts.
    “In what way will they be stepped up, Chief Superintendent Teodori?”
    I saw the fat man turn pale and look at me uncertainly. But I was damned if I was going to help him out—the semiretired bureaucrat could sink in his own shit.
    “We’ll send a description to the border patrol and Interpol,” he said at last.
    He was lying, and knew he was lying. Perhaps he could push procedures forward by alerting colleagues on the Italian borders, but being a pain in the ass to Interpol over grown woman who had disappeared a little over twenty-four hours ago, without any sign of kidnapping or act of violence . . .
    Alessandrini decided to take pity on him and rose from his seat.
    “Very well, Chief Superintendent Teodori. Please thank the head of the rapid response team for assisting us.”
    Us. Who was this us ? Himself and Elisa’s parents? Or the Vatican higher-up who had called the Minister of the Interior? Perhaps the pontiff himself?
    There was a knock on the door. Father Paul appeared, looking younger and more lost than usual.
    “Your Eminence, I going San Valente if no more use to you.”
    The American priest’s Italian was really improving.
    “Wait for me downstairs, Father Paul,” Alessandrini told him sternly.
    I had the feeling that what happened next wouldn’t be pleasant for Father Paul, whose eyes wandered around the room and came to rest on Elisa’s desk, where they remained for a second. Then he went out, followed by the Cardinal.
    . . . .
    “This is serious, Balistreri,” Teodori said. He was sweating like a pig while he tried to fill his pipe, and he was spilling tobacco all over Elisa Sordi’s desk. I realized that the meeting and the impromptu search of the