Italian Romance by Jayne Castel Page A

some?”
    Luisa
nodded fervently – just the thought of pizza made her salivate. She was so
hungry her stomach ached. Seeing her expression, Commissario Catanese smiled.
“I thought you would.”
    He
left Luisa alone and went downstairs to call the local pizzeria. Luisa sighed
before sitting down on her bed and looking around the cheerless room. Her aunt
and uncle had not been happy about her staying at the police station overnight.
Her uncle had roared that he was going to come and pick her up himself before
Catanese had pried the phone off Luisa. It had taken the police inspector a
while to calm them both down. It was only when he explained that their niece
had witnessed a murder linked to Sergio Esposito that they finally understood
how dangerous it was for her to leave the police station tonight. There were
many men loyal to Catanese behind bars, as well as many loyal to his own boss.
Both would be keen to ‘silence’ a man stupid enough to get caught.
    Luisa
opened her bag and rifled through the contents. Luckily, she carried half her
toiletries around with her. Most of the time her over-stuffed handbag got on
her nerves; this evening however, the fact she had a travel toothbrush, wipes,
a hairbrush and moisturizer was a great relief. Luisa took advantage of her
momentary privacy to freshen up. Catanese returned a short time later with a
laptop and an apologetic expression.
    “The
pizza will be here soon,” he promised, “and I’m sorry for potentially ruining
your appetite, but I really do need to get an identikit from you.”
    Luisa
nodded, “of course. The sooner you find out who this man is, the sooner I can
leave this place.”
    Catanese
pulled the small table in the corner out into the centre of the room. They sat
opposite each other as he opened up the laptop and switched it on.
    “Now,
I'd like you to describe the killer – in as much detail as you can remember.
Tell me everything; even details you think are unimportant.”
    Luisa
nodded. She would never forget that gaunt face; his tanned, leathery skin; cold
eyes – so dark they were almost black – and the military-style buzz cut hair, or
the way he moved liked a spider. As she spoke, Catanese frowned at the laptop's
screen and clicked the mouse repeatedly. Finally, he turned the laptop around
so Luisa could see the screen.
    “Is
this him?”
    Luisa's
breath stopped in her throat as she gazed at the computer-generated identikit of
the assassin. The likeness was eerie.
    “Yes,
that's him,” she croaked. “Do you recognize his face?”
    Commissario
Catanese shook his head. “No – but that doesn't mean he's not on our files. If
you don't mind I've got quite a few mug shots for you to look through after
dinner. Our killer is likely to be there.”
    “Great,”
Luisa muttered, “that'll help my digestion.”
    At
that moment, the sound of the fire door closing at the end of the corridor
alerted them to someone's arrival. Catanese got to his feet and poked his head
out into the corridor.
    “In
here,” he called before Luisa caught a whiff of fresh bread and melted cheese –
the pizza had arrived.
    A
young man wearing tight jeans and t-shirt sauntered into the room carrying two
boxes and a plastic bag. He ran an appreciative eye over Luisa before placing
the boxes and two bottles of beer on the table.  Catanese paid, and the young
man thanked him cheerfully before giving Luisa another lustful glance and
leaving the room. 
    Luisa
sighed and took a seat.
    “Why
do Italian men always do that?” she said, unable to keep the scorn out of her
voice.
    “Do
what?” Valerio Catanese paused as he opened their beers and poured them into
plastic cups.
    “That!
The staring, the ogling… like a woman is a piece of meat. I hate it!”
    The
police inspector looked taken aback at her outburst.
    “We
don't all do that,” he responded quietly, “but is there something wrong with
appreciating an attractive woman?”
    “I
wouldn't call it