Shout in the Dark

by Christopher Wright

  *

  Renata Bastiani's apartment

  "BRUNO, WHY DON'T you go out and find a nice girl? Why don't you do that for your old mother?"

  The room was getting hotter by the minute as the stagnant evening air from the courtyard drifted in through the open window. The smell from the drains from the yard, and the drone of heavy traffic broken by car horns recalled the summer evenings of childhood. Bruno Bastiani knelt on the rug beside his mother, letting her run gentle fingers through his hair. The hair got less each year, yet the fingers brought the same comfort, the same reassurance that he was wanted. Lately he had become aware of a change in Mamma's manner. Sometimes it seemed she was confusing the past with the present. The doctor said it happened a lot with elderly people, the old memories being the ones most deeply etched in the mind.

  "Why don't you talk any more to your Mamma about the girls, Bruno?"

  "Please, Mamma, not now." At sixty, he had more important things to do than waste his energy on futile affairs. "Laura Rossetti is helping me investigate the neo-Nazis with Riccardo Fermi. All we want is justice."

  "I like Laura, but I don't like Riccardo. He's no good for you, that man. He'll lead you into trouble."

  Bruno sighed. "Riccardo works with me in the newspaper office, Mamma. He has every reason to hate the Nazis. His family has suffered dreadfully. That madman in the Via Tasso turned his grandmother insane."

  "Be sure you ask Laura round here again soon, Bruno."

  "I'm sure she would like that." He moved his Mamma's hand down so she could rub his shoulder. "The new Nazis ruined Laura's life nearly twenty years ago, just like the wartime Nazis ruined ours. One of them killed Laura's father when she was just a child."

  "You have to stop thinking about things like that, Bruno."

  "The war was bad for us, Mamma."

  "You must forget about it, Bruno. You were only a little boy in the war."

  "I can't forget it, Mamma, not now." His Mamma understood nothing. "I did it for Laura at first. She asked me to look in the newspaper files to see what we had on the SS in Rome. Sturmbannführer Kessel destroyed other families apart from ours. There are so many documents in the office."

  "You're a clever boy at work, Bruno. You deserve to do well."

  "Please, Mamma, a coffee."

  He moved aside, allowing her to go to the kitchen to attend to his wishes. She would do anything for him. He and his mother had that special understanding. He was always the favorite.

  "Your coffee won't be long, Bruno."

  "Thank you, Mamma. You're good to me. I'm glad it's only the two of us here tonight."

  "Don't do anything to bring shame on the family, Bruno."

  He laughed. The killing of Enzo's team had started. The driver of the red Audi had been as scared as hell yesterday afternoon -- screaming for pity while his two friends were out of the way at the top of the hill. But there was no pity. The zoticone, the skinhead lout called Karl Bretz would be next. He could prove difficult. But Enzo would be easy to kill. His half-brother was a fool.

  The freshly ground coffee tasted excellent. His Mamma bought it specially for him from a little stall in the mercato. He sat at the table and made some notes, resting the sheet of paper on the television magazine so as not to mark the highly polished surface. Mamma had taught him to be house-proud.

  The carabinieri had found Otto's body too soon. The visit today had been to confirm that everything was ready for the next stage of the trap at Monte Sisto. The web had caught its first victim, but Sartini had blundered in and put their plan in jeopardy. Unfortunately Riccardo had failed to convince Sartini to keep quiet -- even for Laura's sake. That young priest was too moral. Most men would do anything for a pretty woman.

  Bruno began to write. No longer could they set a trap at Monte Sisto. Riccardo must phone Enzo at the hotel in the Via Nazionale tonight, telling him to come to the Colosseum in the morning -- to the upper level, high above the arena in which so many bloody scenes had been played out in the past.

  He recalled something Riccardo had said earlier. "He'll be identified by the carabinieri as your brother."

  He'd nodded, almost in relief. "Half-brother. Perhaps it will be good for me. Purge me of the demon for ever."

  "And your mother?"

  Bruno looked up now as his mother came into the room with the coffee in his favorite cup. Yes, his mother would be purged of the demon too.

  He sat back. Laura had done well by making friends with the young priest. Sartini had fed them bits of information straight from the Vatican. The spider's web was secure, and soon it would catch all the guilty. Young Karl Bretz was next, and then Enzo. Two deaths at the Colosseum.

  "Open the window wider, Bruno. There seems to be no air. Laura is young, but she would be so right for you. Don't let Riccardo Fermi have her."

  "No, Mamma." But there could soon be a problem with Laura and Marco Sartini. Laura was setting her sights on the priest -- in spite of her vehement denials. She'd not wanted him at first. He was merely a tool in their quest for revenge. And then she learned of his marriage and the death of his wife called Anna. For some reason that made her become obsessed with him. Not that Riccardo minded -- or so he said. That was probably true: Riccardo Fermi had only started dating Laura to make her feel committed to the group.

  He let out a long sigh. "Laura is just a friend, Mamma."

  Laura was not so useful now. Antipatica! The silly bitch claimed she didn't know there would be a killing. What did she think they were going to do -- smack the German driver on the wrist? Laura couldn't agree to be involved and then stand to one side. Of all the three, by losing her father, she had the deepest motive for revenge.

  "Enzo Bastiani, or Manfred Kessel as you're calling yourself, we're coming for you."

  "What did you say, my son?"

  "Nothing you need distress yourself about, Mamma. I'm going out to see Riccardo."

  "You be careful, Bruno. He's a bad man."

  "Riccardo Fermi is a good friend, Mamma."

  Riccardo was a killer. He had killed Otto Bayer slowly with a knife as he screamed for mercy. Only then had they hidden the Audi in the barn, tying the body to the steering wheel. Riccardo wanted to set fire to the car with Bayer still alive, still screaming. It would have been interesting to see Enzo's reaction when he ran down the hill, drawn by the smoke and the flames. But with Marco in the area, the risk was too great.

  Bruno laughed to himself. The fire had gone well in the darkness, when he'd slipped back there to set light to the car last night before the meal. The grasping farmer had obligingly called the TV station as well as the carabinieri when he'd found the burned body. Enzo and the skinhead Bretz would see the news on television tonight, and they'd think their friend had fried to death.

  Local partisans! Brilliant! Riccardo was right: there were partisans -- three of them -- aided by a young priest who had no idea of his role.

  "Mamma, I have a plan. You will be proud of me."

  The plan was perfect. He stood up and clapped his hands. "Buona notte, Mamma. I may be back late."

  He gave his Mamma a long, long kiss.