Carmen woke to a faint yet distinctive whiff of heating oil. It concerned her enough to rouse her from her bed. She checked the passage and outside her window, but saw nothing to alarm her. She left the window open to air, then washed, dressed and went through to the kitchen, only to find the same smell there too. She checked the landing and went out onto the balcony, but still there was nothing, so she brewed a pot of coffee then lost herself on the internet for a while, before paying a visit to the website of the local newspaper to see if there’d been any further developments.
The breaking story on its home page stunned her. The Suraces’ farmhouse was a smouldering husk. She stared at it in dismay. She’d managed somehow to blank Cemetery Teeth and Famine Eyes from her mind. Now they returned with a vengeance. Unnerved, she went to bolt closed the front door and was about to go wake Cesco when she remembered how tired he’d been last night and how early it still was. Yet she needed to tell him.
With eggs and porcini mushrooms from the fridge, she whipped up an omelette that she put on a tray along with a buttered roll and a cup of coffee. He groaned at her knock. She took it as an invitation to go in. His room had the same smell as hers, only stronger.
‘Something terrible has happened,’ she told him, setting the tray down on his lap.
He looked gloomily down at the omelette. ‘I did warn you to stay out of the kitchen.’
‘I’m serious,’ she said, drawing his curtains and raising his sash window. ‘There’s been a fire. At the Suraces’ place.’
He gazed at her blankly, as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. ‘A fire? How bad?’
‘As bad as it gets. Their house is completely gutted.’
‘But…’ He looked bewildered. ‘Was it arson?’
‘They’re not saying. But it has to be, right? And by those same bastards, too. The ones who murdered Vittorio and Giulia.’
‘But… why?’
‘How the hell would I know?’
He noted the strain in her voice and nodded soberly. ‘Give me ten minutes. I’ll come through.’
She returned to the kitchen, feeling better. But then she realised what a setback the fire represented for their search. It was certain to have destroyed the drone and with it any chance of finding what it was the Suraces had photographed. But maybe there was another way. Giulia and Vittorio had spotted something on Google’s latest set of satellite photos, after all. Maybe she could too.
She brought them up on her laptop and set to work.
One of these days. One of these fucking days.
Knöchel was in a filthy mood. They’d moved to Cosenza at such short notice that the best accommodation available had been a three-bedroom place on Cosenza’s northern fringe, which of course meant sharing a room with Oddo and his toxic farting. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Dieter had rousted them all first thing just to waste yet more hours driving around this shithole looking for a white van with an A.C. Milan sticker and a hula girl, even though it was almost certainly halfway across the country by now. And no doubt Dieter was happily tucked up in bed again, laughing himself sick at them for being mugs. That fucker was getting too big for his boots, that was the truth of it. One of these days he’d push him too far. One of these fucking days.
Except Knöchel had been saying one of these days for three years now, and Dieter was still boss.
He came to a junction. These streets all looked the same. He turned right. It led him down to a river embankment. Because of course it fucking did. The damned place seemed to be made of nothing else. He revved his engine as he went. If he couldn’t sleep, why the fuck should anyone else? A bridge ahead. He recognised it from last night. He swore and pulled a U-turn. That was when he saw it, parked in plain view outside an apartment building, a white van with an adhesive A.C. Milan banner on its side. He drove right by it to make sure and, yes, there was the girl on its dashboard.
It was almost in disbelief that he used his Bluetooth headset to call Dieter. ‘Hey, boss,’ he said. ‘I’ve found him.’
It was twenty minutes before Cesco had finished his breakfast in bed, showered, shaved and dressed. He carried his tray through to the kitchen where he found Carmen waiting impatiently with her jacket already on and an enigmatic smile on her lips. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.
She slung her purse over her shoulder. ‘Road trip,’ she said.
‘Where to?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘Come on, Carmen. Share.’
Her eyes twinkled. ‘It’s a surprise. Humour me. But I’ll tell you this much. I think I’ve solved the problem you raised last night, about why Giulia brought down the drone rather than just going to visit the place they’d found with a metal detector and a spade.’
‘And?’
‘You’ll have to come with me to find out, won’t you?’
‘Okay,’ he said. He set down the tray, pocketed his keys. Only on their way downstairs did he remember that he’d left the van in a different spot from last night. Thankfully, Carmen didn’t seem to notice. ‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Which way?’
‘Towards the Suraces’ house.’
Cesco frowned. He’d passed several cars last night driving away from the fire. Any one of them might have reported a shirtless man in a white van with A.C. Milan banners on its sides. ‘It’s a crime scene,’ he said. ‘We’ll just be a nuisance.’
‘Not to it. Towards it.’
He belted himself in, pulled away. A few hardy Alaric hunters were already out, snorkelling the Busento’s shallows on hands and knees, scouring its banks with metal detectors. Otherwise it was quiet. They went over the humpback bridge, climbed the roadworks hill then crossed back over the high bridge before turning left up Via Virgilio. Cesco drove on until the Surace farmhouse was barely a kilometre away. He glanced at Carmen. She gestured him onwards. He couldn’t risk it. He turned up a short track and stopped in front of a tall metal gate with ‘Keep Out’ warnings and a pair of CCTV cameras on its posts. ‘Come on, Carmen,’ he said. ‘Enough mystery.’
‘It’s only a tiny bit further.’
‘Just tell me, okay.’
She squinted at him. ‘Why? What’s going on?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean you went out last night, didn’t you? After I went to bed. Why?’
He put on his best baffled face. ‘Went out? What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about the fact your van was parked in a different spot this morning. So you must have taken it out again after I went to bed. Where? Why?’
‘Fine,’ sighed Cesco. ‘You got me. I lied yesterday about not knowing anyone here any more. There’s this one girl I kept in touch with. We had coffee yesterday morning, before I came to the hospital. But she’s married, so she made me swear I—’
‘Did you come into my room last night? While I was asleep?’
‘What? Why would you even—’
‘My room stank this morning. But not as strongly as yours. It stank of…’ She looked at him in sudden horror. ‘The Suraces’ house,’ she said. ‘It was you.’
‘This is nuts, Carmen. Why on earth would I—’
‘For the drone, of course. To steal the photos for yourself then burn the house down so I’d never know.’
His whole life, Cesco’s quick tongue had saved him in situations like this. All he’d ever had to do was open his mouth and somehow the lies would come tumbling out, even when he’d had no idea in advance what he was going to say. But now, to his dismay, his mouth simply hung there. Carmen took his silence for confession. She found the ispettore’s card in her purse then unlocked her phone with her thumb. His heart sank. He couldn’t let her make the call. The police would find out who he really was and then everything would come out. He reached across and wrested the phone from her. She looked at him in sudden fear. She released her seat belt, grabbed her purse and climbed out.
Her phone was warm in his hand. So warm it was almost hot. He stared at it in puzzlement. It was warm even though it had been on standby and in her bag this whole time. And it had a thumbprint lock too. Just like that, he saw it all, including why those men had felt the need to torch the Suraces’ farmhouse last night, and what it meant for them both right now too. He looked away to his left. Sunlight glinted off the windscreen of a black SUV as it hurtled down the next track along. He felt helpless. Overwhelmed. So much to explain, so little time. He tried to grab Carmen by her wrist to drag her back in but she yelped and jumped backwards out of his reach.
The SUV was almost at the road. He needed to get out of here. He pulled closed her door then tossed her phone down on her empty seat. She threw him a look of such utter revulsion that he knew their friendship was forever finished. It felt like a knife being slid between his ribs. He reversed out onto the road. Then, in a screech of rubber, he thrust the van into gear and sped off back towards Cosenza.