The Death of a Mafia Don by Michele Giuttari

Author:Michele Giuttari [Giuttari, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780748111992
Publisher: Little Brown
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

14

Avoiding your own commissioner isn’t an easy matter if you’re the head of the Squadra Mobile, especially when the only thing separating you is a flight of stairs.

So far, Ferrara had been spared a meeting thanks to the noncommittal attitude Riccardo Lepri had chosen to adopt. But although he was keen to avoid Lepri in order to save himself the embarrassment of trying to keep him in the dark about developments in the Laprua case, as the acting prosecutor had requested, he realised he couldn’t put it off indefinitely. Given that he had returned to work suddenly and unexpectedly, not even saying hello to the commissioner went far beyond mere discourtesy and might cause irreparable damage to a relationship which had never been exceptionally friendly.

He decided to call him.

‘At last!’ the commissioner replied, but his tone was unusually gentle. ‘Before telling you off, let me say how pleased I am to know you’re back in good health. You’re well, I hope?’

‘I owe you an apology. I know how worried you were and how kind you were to Petra, and I’m grateful to you for that. The reason I haven’t shown my face is certainly not because I’m ungrateful, but the amount of work I’ve—’

‘You don’t have to apologise, Ferrara. I know how complicated the situation is, and I have every confidence in you. But please, be careful. In every meaning of the word: don’t overdo it when you should be recovering, and don’t take pointless risks. There have already been too many martyrs of the State in this tangled affair. Anna Giulietti’s death has been a real blow, believe me, and not only to me. There’s a great deal of anxiety in high places, and people are keeping a close watch on what we’re doing. So please, tread carefully!’

‘Don’t worry, Commissioner,’ Ferrara replied, although he would rather have done anything than tread carefully.

‘And keep me informed.’

‘Of course.’

When he had put down the receiver, he fished another cigar from the leather case but, before he had time to light it, Fanti materialised quietly in front of him and placed a bulky envelope on his desk.

‘From Major Alibrandi, chief. It says Personal and Confidential.’

‘Okay, thanks.’

‘Should I open it?’

‘No, thanks, you can go.’

He wasn’t sure why the major was being so secretive. Anna Giulietti’s diary was a piece of evidence in a criminal investigation, not a personal and confidential matter.

Puzzled, he opened the envelope.

What he found inside hit him like a punch in the stomach with its anachronistic and almost paradoxical humanity: it was a hard-covered volume bound in beautiful green and cream marbled paper, with a light-coloured leather spine and a flap with a little lock to prevent access to the pages. A personal journal, a jealous guardian of intimate secrets, which made Ferrara think of a teenage girl’s diary. It was not something he would ever have associated with the image of Anna Giulietti, a self-confident, even cold woman, who once on a car journey had confessed to him her total devotion to work and her consequent sacrifice of a private life.

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