The Marshal Makes His Report by Magdalen Nabb

Author:Magdalen Nabb [Nabb, Magdalen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ebook, book, Mystery, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781569475324
Publisher: Arrow
Published: 1991-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Seven

‘He’s a humper at the central market and, by all accounts, every bit as nasty as his mugshot suggests.’ Lorenzini had the photo in his hand as he made his bleary-eyed Sunday report. He hadn’t worked all night for a long time and his body ached all over. The Marshal hadn’t even told him to sit down. He was standing there at the window with his shoulders hunched and his back to the young brigadier and you’d think from his gruffness that he’d been the one to work all night.

‘I’m sorry, but there was just nothing,’ Lorenzini continued. ‘I’ll go on trying, of course, but what makes it look so hopeless is that because of the jobs they do one goes to bed practically at the time the other gets up.’

‘What about the football? Isn’t this Tiny character involved in that?’ There must be a point of contact between Tiny and someone inside the Palazzo Ulderighi. Who else could it be but Leo? ‘He sounds the type, thug like that.’

‘It’s the first thing I checked. He couldn’t play, naturally, because he’s got a criminal record—you may not believe this, but the players are theoretically meant to be the sons of noblemen of the city.’

‘Hmph.’

‘I suppose centuries ago they were. Anyway, this Tiny did have something to do with it but years ago, well before Leo got involved. He’s quite a lot older, you know.’

To Lorenzini’s relief the Marshal did at last turn from the window and take a good look at him.

‘Why don’t you sit down? You look worn out.’

‘Thanks.’ Lorenzini sank into the first chair he saw but the Marshal stayed on his feet, staring at the map of his Quarter as if it might reveal to him of its own accord the spot where Leo and Tiny made whatever deal resulted in Tiny’s prints on the shoes of Buongianni Corsi.

‘What about this club where Leo works?’

‘I went there last night. He’s a bouncer and on the door most of the night—but not last night because of today’s match. It’s a private club, a sort of mini disco. Ghastly place, underground and painted grey and black. Suffocating. I looked at the list of members. Tiny’s not on it. I showed the mugshot around as well in case the regulars had seen him there as a guest. Nothing. I stayed around till closing time. It seems hopeless. Tiny must start work at dawn when our friend Leo is snoring in bed.’

‘Try bars—and restaurants, presumably they’re both awake at supper-time. Maybe even that pizzeria opposite the palazzo. No, wait a minute. Go home and get some rest. Give me that.’

The Marshal took the mugshot, got into his jacket and slipped the picture into his top pocket. ‘I’m going to the Ulderighi place. I’ll make a start— What about his previous convictions? Have you—’

‘I spent all this morning on it, but Leo’s name never cropped up in any of the reports on Tiny—well, you did say it was unlikely . . .’

‘All right, all right.

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