Matteo was getting frustrated. He couldn't believe that his superiors were simply ignoring any offences that didn't entail parking fines. He and Isabella couldn't possibly be the only ones to realise that Sister Raffaella's death had not been an accident. No sooner had he sent the investigating magistrate a first-class motive on a silver platter, than the reply had come back: a terse email refusing him permission to make a search on the basis of "mere surmise" – permission to search anywhere, that is: and certainly not to search a convent. What was he thinking, the judge demanded to know, looking to toss a nun's cell? At that point, Matteo had stopped reading.
Mere surmise … But there was no guessing going on here. All you had to do was think outside the box a little, and then all the clues were right there, blazing like a giant neon sign.
What should he do? He couldn't possibly go barging into Sister Hildegard's cell on his own authority.
Burying his head deep in his hands, he crouched at his desk and feverishly considered how to proceed now. He could just feel it: he was that close to solving of his first major case. He couldn't screw this up.
"Jesus, are you asleep?"
"What?" Matteo started up and banged his knee on the desktop. A sharp pain fanned out up and down his leg. "Mayor! Christ – how about knocking next time?!"
The Mayor wasn't listening. "I was in Via Madonna delle Grazie", he grumbled sullenly.
"And?" asked Matteo challengingly.
"Nothing has happened there yet."
"But I checked the road and duly issued tickets."
"But I only saw tickets issued for the first thirty metres. Via Madonna delle Grazie is about three hundred metres long."
Matteo threw up his hands. "What do you expect? I am all alone here. I have other things to do than write parking tickets, you know."
"And what might they be? There's hardly ever anything for a cop to do in this town. The least you could do is comply with the wishes of the municipality and the convent and finally make this street a paid parking zone! Lenzi took a step into the room and suddenly put on a benevolent face. "I don't want to be unfair; I know you are a busy man." The Mayor smiled, but it was a smile that didn't touch his eyes. Only now did Matteo notice that he had something in his hands, and was now holding it out to him.
"What's this?"
"A catalogue for parking meters – take a look. I have already circled the ones I like the look of. See here." The Mayor cheerily flipped the brochure open and waved a page under Matteo's nose, which was marked with a pink Post-it. "This model here is really very pretty, wouldn't you say? It would be a great match for our cast-iron lights and street lamps, no?"
Matteo frowned. "There are catalogues for parking meters?"
"Of course! As a carabiniere, you should know that better than I do. Sometimes I really wonder what you spend your days doing."
"I already have no-parking signs …" He fell silent. Suddenly Matteo realised that he had been too hasty in putting up the signs. The people parking there hadn't had a chance to buy parking tickets at any of the ticket machines.
"Are you all right?" The Mayor looked at him worriedly. "You look so pale."
The button on Matteo's collar popped open.
Suddenly he saw himself standing in Via Madonna delle Grazie, as if from a bird's eye view, giving himself a parking ticket. Why was he letting this slimeball push him around like this? What was the matter with him?
"I know you're lying." Inwardly seething, he remained outwardly calm. He slowly folded his arms across his chest but did not take his eyes off the Mayor.
"I did some research," he lied, "and found out that no vote was ever held at the convent." His confidence was growing with every word that left his lips.
The Mayor's lower jaw dropped, but he quickly regained his composure and blinked angrily at him.
"And I also question the communal resolution you mentioned."
"How dare you!" The Mayor was outraged.
Matteo beckoned. "I want to see it. Show it to me!"
"My word should be enough for you!" Lenzi shot back, now bright red.
"I want to see it." Matteo's voice was calm and firm. He wasn't used to talking like this. Maybe because he wasn't always so sure that he was in the right. "Show it to me!"
"I, er … I will! Oh, I will!" the Mayor shouted. "You can count on that. And then …" He raised his hand and extended his index finger, but the threat remained unspoken.
"I must ask you to leave now, Mr Mayor. I have more important things to attend to than being bullied by you. And if you want to complain about me, you are very welcome to contact my superiors. But then I assure you, I will make my demand for these documents public. Do we understand each other?"
They traded hard stares in silence, and Matteo felt a rush of elation when Lenzi looked away first. He had stood up to the man for the first time and it was hard for him to stifle a triumphant grin.
"You …" The Mayor was literally shaking with rage. “Your predecessor would never have dared to disrespect me like this.”
"That may be so. But I am not Signore Maggiore."
"No." Lenzi's gaze cooled. "Not at all."
"That's enough. I will show you out now, Mr Mayor."
Matteo rose and took a decisive step towards the man.
"I'll see myself out!"
"I would like to make sure."
"This is shameful!"
Silently, glaring at each other, they stepped out into the hallway.
When Matteo pulled open the front door, he held his breath for a long second and his heart began to race. She had appeared as if from nowhere.
"You?" he asked breathlessly.
"Hello," she said.
It was her, the woman he kept running into lately and whose every inch enchanted him. During the last conversation, when he had found the courage to invite her for coffee, he had hardly been able to get a word out. He wanted to – no, he simply had to – get it right this time.
He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. What should he do? Invite her in?
"Signora, I am very happy to see you here. How can I help you?"
"Ciao, Papà."
"Ciao, Nina, what are you doing here?"
"Papà?" Matteo's voice degenerated into a hoarse croak. Had he just heard that correctly?
"Heavens, Papà! Are you all right?" She put one foot on the top step and pressed the back of her hand against the Mayor's forehead. "You're positively glowing."
"Ah, yes." The Mayor glanced at Matteo out of the corner of his eye. "That's … nothing. Just the heat."
The beautiful woman climbed the last step and gave the Mayor a tender kiss on the cheek. Matteo felt like he was in a bad film.
"Nina, this is Matteo Silvestri. The carabiniere, as I expect you can tell."
Matteo could see in Lenzi's face that making this introduction was demanding a great deal of self-control. The two shook hands. "We already know each other," Matteo admitted.
Nina grinned at him. "True," she admitted. "We had a coffee together the other day."
"So." Very briefly, the Mayor's bushy brows drew together threateningly again, as he gave Matteo a searching, or rather, warning look.
Matteo swallowed dryly. This second meeting was not going well, either.
"Why are you here, my angel? Didn't you have appointments in town?"
She nodded. "Actually, I had an appointment with the head of the Mazza ceramics factory – because of the dating of the historical Roman vase that was found on the banks of the Serchio, which I told you about. You remember?"
"Sì, of course," Lenzi replied so quickly that even Matteo realised it was a lie.
"My daughter, as I imagine you know already, is an antiques dealer."
"That's interesting." Matteo couldn't fight down a persistent grin.
"Hm. But unfortunately, Mr Sorrentino's secretary said that the gentleman had had to leave in a hurry." She shrugged her shoulders. "So I came all the way from Lucca to here for nothing."
Lucca. Matteo stored this information. "You live in Lucca?"
"No, Nina lives in our holiday flat."
"But I work in Lucca. My business is located there."
"I love antiques," Matteo exaggerated. The only antique in his possession was an original Asterixcomic book from 1983.
Suddenly a thought came to him. "Wait a minute. Did you say Sorrentino?"
"Exactly."
"Nicoló Sorrentino?"
"You know him?" Nina smiled at him curiously.
"A fleeting acquaintance."
Without knowing why, Matteo found it extremely strange to be confronted with the thought of this man again.
"So, I thought," he heard Nina saying, "why not make a virtue out of necessity and use the missed opportunity to go out for lunch with my favourite dad? Your secretary told me that I would find you here at the police station." No sooner had she spoken the words than she looked unsettled. "Everything's all right, isn't it?"
"Yes," Matteo and the Mayor said in unison.
Lenzi quickly added: "Every now and then, the Mayor has to talk to the police officer about this and that. Isn't that so?"
Matteo smiled contritely. "Sì."
"Tell me, Mr Carabiniere."
"Silvestri," Matteo corrected the Mayor's daughter, "Please, call me Matteo. Just Matteo."
"Bene, Matteo." He liked the way she pronounced his name. He had fallen in love with the sound at once. "Don't you feel like joining us for lunch?"
"Yes!" replied Matteo without thinking.
"No!" Lenzi exclaimed. "I mean, Matte— Mr Silvestri might have to go somewhere urgently and take care of an important matter. Is that right? Or is it? I mean, you are welcome to join us – of course."
Matteo was about to reply when they heard a loud bang from the hallway.
"What was that?" asked Nina.
"I don't know," said the Mayor, equally surprised.
Matteo's shoulders shrugged up. "I'll go and see."
It was no easy task to tear himself away from the sight of the Mayor's beautiful daughter. Nina. The enlightened one, it meant. He knew that because his grandmother had had the same name. How's that for a coincidence? Not that Matteo was a particularly spiritual person, but by God, it had to mean something.
When he arrived at the office, he looked around, searching for the source of the noise. At first he didn't notice anything unusual, but then he saw it. The Marian Cross had come away from the wall with a large piece of plaster and crashed onto the tiled floor.
"Bloody dump," Matteo cursed softly.
But then he held his breath. An inner alarm seized him so suddenly that he felt dizzy. It was a sense of urgency that he had never experienced before. Not even when he was on the verge of arresting the bicycle thieves. A thought forced its way to the front, banging against the inside of his forehead. Isabella, it echoed between his ears. Was it possible that the cross had not fallen off the wall by chance? Was someone trying to give him a hint? By "someone" he meant God, but even in his mind he dared not form the thought. Was this a sign? A … divine providence? Could Sister Isabella be in danger?
All of a sudden it fell dark in the office. Matteo stepped to the window and saw that the sky, bright blue moments before, was now overcast by thick clouds.
The tension turned into an almost tangible panic. He grabbed the car key from the desk, took the service pistol from its drawer and stormed out of the police station.
"What is it now?" the Mayor asked him indignantly. "Are you coming to eat with us or not?"
"No time, unfortunately. On the job."
He paused in his movement, turned around and awkwardly pushed his cap onto his head. He gave Nina a smile that he hoped was particularly charming. "But another time, I'd love to."
She smiled back. That at least was a good sign.