trouble.
The Carabinieri caserma
The Carabinieri caserma was a smart palazzo a few blocks away. In the courtyard there were half a dozen black cars with the oblique red stripe. There was an armed guard outside, a sign that the state here is still on a war footing against organised crime and home-grown terrorism.
I was pointed towards the front desk and asked to see Speranza. He was out, and I was told to sit in a waiting room. There were two other people in there who looked bored.
An hour later a harsh voice called my name. I stood up and followed the man down a corridor, up some steps, along another corridor. The man accompanying me kept saying hello to people he passed.
‘Ecco,’ he said, knocking very loudly on a wooden door.
‘Avanti,’ I heard from inside.
The man opened the door and I was shown in to a large office. I could tell Speranza was high-ranking just by the size of the room. There was an old, threadbare carpet thrown over the marble floor. Rising to greet me was a man with thick blond hair who held out his hand.
‘Speranza, piacere,’ he said.
‘Castagnetti,’ I said as I moved towards the chair he had pointed towards.
‘You wanted to see me?’
I nodded. ‘I’m a private investigator,’ I said tentatively.Most Carabinieri don’t take kindly to my profession. They find we get in their way and, occasionally, steal their glory.
He nodded silently.
‘I’m here about an old case.’
‘Plenty of those. Which one?’
‘Luciano Tosti.’ I looked at him briefly. ‘He was killed last year.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I remember.’ He cocked his head. ‘What’s your interest?’
‘I was investigating a couple of cases of arson back home and one of them led me to Tosti. So I came round here today hoping to ask him a couple of questions but I find he was whacked last year. It kind of made me curious.’
He looked at me through his eyebrows. ‘You want to tell me about these fires?’
‘If you’ll tell me about Tosti.’
He snorted a laugh.
I told him about the case, what little I knew: that Tosti had been the frontman for a construction company called Masi that wanted to buy land which was about to be redesignated. That he had got a taste for being a landowner and rebelled against his puppeteers. Speranza listened distractedly, turning round to type something into his computer as if I weren’t there.
‘We heard about that,’ he said when I had finished. ‘We figured it just like you said. We pursued it for a while but the curtain came down pretty quickly.’
‘What do you mean?’
He pushed his head back and rolled it left and right like he was trying to remove a crick in his neck. ‘Pressure from above.’
‘The investigation was shut down?’
He tutted like I was an errant schoolchild. ‘It’s never put that way. We’re simply told there are other priorities.’ He mimicked an officious voice. ‘Other leads to pursue. Other cases that need our time and resources.’ The resentment was clear.
‘How far did you go down the Masi line?’
‘Far enough for it to get interesting. Tosti didn’t turn out to be quite as much of a stooge as Masi had expected. Once Tosti was in possession of that prosciuttificio, and once he realised it was going to benefit from a cambio di destinazione d’uso, he realised he had something quite valuable. He started touting it around and Masi took exception. Masi had set up the deal in the first place, and to have Tosti betraying him like that must have got him pretty steamed up.’
‘But Tosti sold it to him in the end?’
‘Sure, but for a six-figure profit. He made Masi pay through the nose for something Masi thought was his in the first place. It must have been like finding your servant outside your house selling your silver.’
‘And having to buy it back from him?’
The man nodded. ‘We interviewed Masi once. He didn’t seem like the sort of man to take it lying down.’
‘He’s quite a bulldozer,
The Carabinieri caserma
The Carabinieri caserma was a smart palazzo a few blocks away. In the courtyard there were half a dozen black cars with the oblique red stripe. There was an armed guard outside, a sign that the state here is still on a war footing against organised crime and home-grown terrorism.
I was pointed towards the front desk and asked to see Speranza. He was out, and I was told to sit in a waiting room. There were two other people in there who looked bored.
An hour later a harsh voice called my name. I stood up and followed the man down a corridor, up some steps, along another corridor. The man accompanying me kept saying hello to people he passed.
‘Ecco,’ he said, knocking very loudly on a wooden door.
‘Avanti,’ I heard from inside.
The man opened the door and I was shown in to a large office. I could tell Speranza was high-ranking just by the size of the room. There was an old, threadbare carpet thrown over the marble floor. Rising to greet me was a man with thick blond hair who held out his hand.
‘Speranza, piacere,’ he said.
‘Castagnetti,’ I said as I moved towards the chair he had pointed towards.
‘You wanted to see me?’
I nodded. ‘I’m a private investigator,’ I said tentatively.Most Carabinieri don’t take kindly to my profession. They find we get in their way and, occasionally, steal their glory.
He nodded silently.
‘I’m here about an old case.’
‘Plenty of those. Which one?’
‘Luciano Tosti.’ I looked at him briefly. ‘He was killed last year.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I remember.’ He cocked his head. ‘What’s your interest?’
‘I was investigating a couple of cases of arson back home and one of them led me to Tosti. So I came round here today hoping to ask him a couple of questions but I find he was whacked last year. It kind of made me curious.’
He looked at me through his eyebrows. ‘You want to tell me about these fires?’
‘If you’ll tell me about Tosti.’
He snorted a laugh.
I told him about the case, what little I knew: that Tosti had been the frontman for a construction company called Masi that wanted to buy land which was about to be redesignated. That he had got a taste for being a landowner and rebelled against his puppeteers. Speranza listened distractedly, turning round to type something into his computer as if I weren’t there.
‘We heard about that,’ he said when I had finished. ‘We figured it just like you said. We pursued it for a while but the curtain came down pretty quickly.’
‘What do you mean?’
He pushed his head back and rolled it left and right like he was trying to remove a crick in his neck. ‘Pressure from above.’
‘The investigation was shut down?’
He tutted like I was an errant schoolchild. ‘It’s never put that way. We’re simply told there are other priorities.’ He mimicked an officious voice. ‘Other leads to pursue. Other cases that need our time and resources.’ The resentment was clear.
‘How far did you go down the Masi line?’
‘Far enough for it to get interesting. Tosti didn’t turn out to be quite as much of a stooge as Masi had expected. Once Tosti was in possession of that prosciuttificio, and once he realised it was going to benefit from a cambio di destinazione d’uso, he realised he had something quite valuable. He started touting it around and Masi took exception. Masi had set up the deal in the first place, and to have Tosti betraying him like that must have got him pretty steamed up.’
‘But Tosti sold it to him in the end?’
‘Sure, but for a six-figure profit. He made Masi pay through the nose for something Masi thought was his in the first place. It must have been like finding your servant outside your house selling your silver.’
‘And having to buy it back from him?’
The man nodded. ‘We interviewed Masi once. He didn’t seem like the sort of man to take it lying down.’
‘He’s quite a bulldozer,
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