rape. I’ll have forty-eight hours to investigate and establish the facts. But rumours travel fast in jail, and you know what the other prisoners do to people like you? They cut their balls off. So do me a favour now and repeat what I just said … word for word.’
Bordelli had seen something similar in a Western whose title he couldn’t remember. He had to admit that it had made an impression. Lapo took a deep breath and started speaking.
‘From now on I’m going to have you followed … and if I hear that you’ve approached a … a little girl …’
‘Well done. Now finish the sentence.’
‘… I’m going to come and get you and … take you to the Murate …’
‘Go on.’
‘…and in jail …they’ll …cut off …’
‘What’ll they cut off? Come on, it’s easy.’
‘… m … my balls …’
‘Good, now I know you understand. And do you know what happens when someone cuts off your balls?’
‘No,’ said Lapo, pale as a corpse.
‘Well, if you want to find out, just try to bother another little girl and it’ll all be clear to you. Think you need any more explanations?’
‘No,’ said Lapo, and a second later he covered his face with his hands and burst into tears like a child. His shoulders shook as if they had an electrical current running through them.
‘Have you got a cigarette?’ Bordelli asked. The young man passed him a packet of HB without raising his head. He continued whimpering and sniffling.The inspector took a cigarette and put the packet back in the man’s pocket. Then he stood up and headed for the Beetle. Had he remained a second longer he might not have been able to refrain himself from boxing the ears of that rich, sick kid. But he’d never liked beating people up, and so he’d left. Getting into the car, he imagined Lapo with his hands on a little girl and lit the cigarette with Mugnai’s providential matches.
He took the last drag at the bottom of Via Alderotti, and after flicking the butt out the window, he left it open to get rid of the smoke. It was bloody cold outside. He hadn’t noticed when sitting in the park with Lapo.
Before it got dark, Piras wanted to go another couple of kilo-metres towards Santu Lussurgiu. It was a beautiful route, and there was still an hour of daylight left. His house was at the edge of town, almost directly in front of the crossroads for Seneghe, and to go to Santu Lussurgiu, one first had to cross all of Bonarcado. There was a bit of wind, but it wasn’t too bad. The sun was warmer than in Florence.
Walking with crutches was hard, but he could feel himself getting closer to recovery and managed to enjoy the effort.
Every day that went by he felt a little steadier on his feet. He wanted to be the way he was before, and soon … Hunting for killers and making love with Sonia.
A donkey brayed as though suffering. It must have been one of the Perra family’s animals. Through the windows of the houses, Piras could see Christmas trees with coloured baubles. There were children playing football in the middle of the street with a deflated ball. They ran about like mice and raised smoke from the ball every time they kicked it. He himself had once played in these same streets, not too many years before.
He walked past the church of Santa Maria, which was large and massive, almost too big for such a little town. It was made of dark stone, and the bell tower made a fine impression. The façade was on the other side, looking on to the woods covering the hill. The church looked as if it was turning its back to the town. When he was a little boy his parents used to bring him to hear mass every Sunday. He still remembered how bored he felt during those moments, with the village elders singing, the priest speaking a strange language, his mother always telling him to go to confession, the gnarly candles dripping on to the terracotta floor, the smell of dead flowers, the round eyes of the Christ looking at him from behind the altar …
Bordelli had seen something similar in a Western whose title he couldn’t remember. He had to admit that it had made an impression. Lapo took a deep breath and started speaking.
‘From now on I’m going to have you followed … and if I hear that you’ve approached a … a little girl …’
‘Well done. Now finish the sentence.’
‘… I’m going to come and get you and … take you to the Murate …’
‘Go on.’
‘…and in jail …they’ll …cut off …’
‘What’ll they cut off? Come on, it’s easy.’
‘… m … my balls …’
‘Good, now I know you understand. And do you know what happens when someone cuts off your balls?’
‘No,’ said Lapo, pale as a corpse.
‘Well, if you want to find out, just try to bother another little girl and it’ll all be clear to you. Think you need any more explanations?’
‘No,’ said Lapo, and a second later he covered his face with his hands and burst into tears like a child. His shoulders shook as if they had an electrical current running through them.
‘Have you got a cigarette?’ Bordelli asked. The young man passed him a packet of HB without raising his head. He continued whimpering and sniffling.The inspector took a cigarette and put the packet back in the man’s pocket. Then he stood up and headed for the Beetle. Had he remained a second longer he might not have been able to refrain himself from boxing the ears of that rich, sick kid. But he’d never liked beating people up, and so he’d left. Getting into the car, he imagined Lapo with his hands on a little girl and lit the cigarette with Mugnai’s providential matches.
He took the last drag at the bottom of Via Alderotti, and after flicking the butt out the window, he left it open to get rid of the smoke. It was bloody cold outside. He hadn’t noticed when sitting in the park with Lapo.
Before it got dark, Piras wanted to go another couple of kilo-metres towards Santu Lussurgiu. It was a beautiful route, and there was still an hour of daylight left. His house was at the edge of town, almost directly in front of the crossroads for Seneghe, and to go to Santu Lussurgiu, one first had to cross all of Bonarcado. There was a bit of wind, but it wasn’t too bad. The sun was warmer than in Florence.
Walking with crutches was hard, but he could feel himself getting closer to recovery and managed to enjoy the effort.
Every day that went by he felt a little steadier on his feet. He wanted to be the way he was before, and soon … Hunting for killers and making love with Sonia.
A donkey brayed as though suffering. It must have been one of the Perra family’s animals. Through the windows of the houses, Piras could see Christmas trees with coloured baubles. There were children playing football in the middle of the street with a deflated ball. They ran about like mice and raised smoke from the ball every time they kicked it. He himself had once played in these same streets, not too many years before.
He walked past the church of Santa Maria, which was large and massive, almost too big for such a little town. It was made of dark stone, and the bell tower made a fine impression. The façade was on the other side, looking on to the woods covering the hill. The church looked as if it was turning its back to the town. When he was a little boy his parents used to bring him to hear mass every Sunday. He still remembered how bored he felt during those moments, with the village elders singing, the priest speaking a strange language, his mother always telling him to go to confession, the gnarly candles dripping on to the terracotta floor, the smell of dead flowers, the round eyes of the Christ looking at him from behind the altar …
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