by Jayne Castel
The train slowly pulled out of the station.
On the platform, separated from Luisa by glass and metal, stood the assassin. His face was twisted, his eyes still hidden behind the mirrored shades. He stared at Luisa and mouthed a threat before drawing his finger across his throat in a universal gesture that needed no translation.
A moment later, the train was hurtling down a dark tunnel.
***
“Idiota!” Commissario Valerio Catanese shouted, turning from where he had been staring out the window, and struggling to control his temper, “what the hell did you think you were doing?”
“I thought…”
“What did you think?” Valerio cut Luisa off, “that I was going to leave you sitting here all night? I asked you to wait here for a reason!”
Luisa shifted uncomfortably on her chair and struggled to control her own anger. She had thought he would be impressed that she had successfully eluded danger and come back to the police station. Instead, he stood there lecturing her like she was an imbecile. She took a deep breath in an attempt to still her rising temper. She’d had just about enough of Italian men today.
Aware that his outburst was causing Luisa to stare at him with icy hostility, Valerio Catanese reined in his own temper.
“You must be aware,” his voice rasped with the effort he was making not to shout, “that if not for dumb luck you would be dead now. These men have no mercy. He would have stabbed you to death in the middle of a crowded metro if he had to.”
“I’m aware of that,” Luisa replied between gritted teeth, “however, since I am a free citizen I was within my rights to leave this building and go home. How was I to know he would be waiting for me?”
“You witnessed a shooting and looked the assassin in the eye seconds afterwards. A man like that has much at stake,” the inspector explained, “he is a pawn; doing someone else’s dirty work – and that makes him extremely dangerous. A man like that is terrified of those he works for, and for good reason. You represent a slow and painful death. He will do his best to silence you.”
Indignation and anger slowly drained from Luisa, replaced by despair. She had saved up for this trip for two years but now it looked as if her dream holiday had just turned into a nightmare.
Seeing her change in expression, Valerio Catanese sat down opposite Luisa at the table.
“I was late coming to see you because more information has surfaced about Michele Esposito, the man who was shot,” Catanese explained, “it appears he is the nephew of one of the clan bosses, Sergio Esposito. Have you heard of him?”
Luisa nodded. She watched the news with her relatives every evening before dinner. Sergio Esposito was in hiding. He was implicated in the torture and killing of two journalists who had foolishly investigated him too enthusiastically. Esposito had spent the last couple of years fighting with other clans in an attempt for supremacy, winning himself no friends within his own organization, as the police tightened the net. He was a dangerous man – and no doubt an angry one after the death of his nephew.
Reading her expression, Valerio Catanese's anger appeared to dissolve. He leaned back in his chair and glanced out the window. Luisa watched his profile and was struck, not for the first time, what a handsome man he was.
“It never ends,” he said quietly, “the cycle repeats itself as it has for centuries. Every time we jail one, another appears to take his place. Then there is the vendetta between them. You'd hope all that in-fighting would weaken their hold but it just feeds them.”
“I can't begin to understand it,” Luisa admitted, “and I'm sorry I left without saying anything. I didn't realise I would be in any danger. Believe me, if I had known what was waiting outside I would have stayed here.”
Silence stretched between them for a couple of seconds before Luisa looked at her watch. It was nearing 8pm and outside the light was fading.
“I don't suppose you could arrange for me to be taken home?” Luisa asked, “my aunt and uncle will wonder where I am.”
Inspector Catanese shook his head. “I will need to get an identikit from you and it isn't safe for you to go home. It would put not only yourself but your relatives at risk.”
Luisa's spirits sank. For the first time all day, she felt like crying. She was tired, hungry and scared. She wanted to see Zia Giuseppina and Zio Roberto and forget today ever happened.
Commissario Catanese pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to Luisa.
“Give them a call,” he urged with a nod, “tell them what's happened and that tonight you will have to stay in police custody for your own safety.”
“Police custody?”
“That's right,” he sighed, “you're sleeping here tonight.”
***
The room looked little more than a glorified cell. A narrow bed with a thin, lumpy mattress sat in one corner and a small table with two chairs in the other. There was one small barred window and a picture of the Virgin Mary on the white-washed wall. Luisa turned to Catanese with a frown.
“I'm sleeping here?”
The inspector gave a pained expression before nodding.
“This isn't a hotel signorina; we don't usually host non-criminals over-night.”
“Are you locking me in?”
“Of course not!” Valerio Catanese gave an impatient shake of his head, “this building is secure. There's a bathroom at the end of the corridor. I am staying in the room next door if you need anything.”
“You're staying here?”
The police inspector's gaze met hers. “Yes,” he replied simply, “somebody has to make sure you don't get into any more trouble.”
The mischievous tone in his voice was not lost on Luisa – so the man did have a sense of humour after all. She had begun to wonder.
“I don't know about you but I'm starving,” Catanese continued, “I'm ordering some pizza, would you like 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 frowne
d 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 appreciating,” Luisa replied sharply, “like I said, they stare like you're a thing, not a person!”
Catanese frowned, “There are men here who are disrespectful to women, who make crude comments and who leer on the street – but aren't there men like that everywhere?”
“Not where I come from,” Luisa replied, before admitting, “at least not so obviously.”
Catanese finished pouring the beer and handed Luisa her glass.
“I'm sorry you've obviously had such a rough time here in Naples. It can be an aggressive city and you have seen the worst of it. Please believe me though that we are not all the same.”
Luisa did not reply. Now she felt like a bigot. With a sigh, she picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite. She was so hungry she could hardly think straight.
The pizza was delicious – with the typical Neapolitan thick-crust, oozing with mozzarella and slices of spicy salami. The beer was ice-cold and the perfect accompaniment. For a few minutes, Luisa forgot all about her terrible day, or the fact her dream holiday had turned into a nightmare. The men could be odious here but the food was incredible.
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Valerio Catanese handed her a serviette.
“You've got oil on your chin,” he said with a smile, “I'm glad you're enjoying your pizza.”
“It's fantastic, thank you,” Luisa replied, wiping off the oil as daintily as she could manage.
Once they finished their pizza, wiped the grease off their fingers and drained the last dregs of beer, Catanese cleared the table and replaced his laptop. This time, he took a seat next to Luisa so they could look through a database of mug shots together. His closeness was distracting. They were not touching but Luisa could feel the heat of his body and smell the faint scent of the aftershave he had used that morning. She forced the butterflies that suddenly fluttered up into her stomach, to settle, and focused her attention on the computer screen.
“Take your time,” Catanese instructed, “look at each face carefully before moving on to the next.”
Luisa nodded. There was an array of thin-faced men to choose from – Catanese had used her identikit to narrow the search. However, even among men of a similar age and physique, there was a lot of variation. Next to her, Catanese remained silent as Luisa scrolled down the page.
The evening stretched on. Outside, the odd burst of laughter from the street below, or the rat-tat-tat of a scooter engine, intruded occasionally but Luisa was so intent on her search that after a while she almost forgot the attractive police inspector was sitting next to her. Eventually, nearly two hours after she had started scrolling through the mug shots – after nearly two-hundred thin-faced men – Luisa found him.
“There!” she sat back triumphant, pointing at the screen, “that's definitely him.”
Catanese leaned forward and double-clicked on the mug shot.
“Mario Ponte,” he read, “twenty-seven years old and a list of previous convictions, most of them for robbery. He's typical of so many you find in their lower ranks. He probably thought he was on easy-money until the day he realized they owned him. I don't think he'll be hard to find.”
“I hope not,” Luisa replied, “because, just quietly, I won't be able to relax until you arrest him.”
Catanese leaned back in his chair, stretched and closed the laptop.
“Thank you Luisa – I wish all witnesses had your memory and eye for detail. Mario Ponte will be very useful to us.”
Luisa yawned, got to her feet and stretched. She was stiff from sitting in the same position for hours and fatigue now pressed down upon her.
“It's late,” Commissario Catanese got to his feet and packed up his laptop, “and you must be exhausted. Like I said, I'll be sleeping next door. If you need anything just knock.”
Luisa sat on the edge of her bed and listened as the door next to hers shut gently and she heard Catanese moving around the room. It was a surreal experience; spending the evening in a police station, sleeping next door to the sexiest man she had ever met.
Luisa had tried hard to ignore it, but Valerio Catanese sent her blood-pressure soaring. She was glad for some time alone, as the hours spent in his presence had an intoxicating effect on her. There was something incredibly magnetic about him – the way he spoke and moved – and the effect his gaze had when it met hers.
She had no nightclothes, so Luisa slipped off her sandals and lay, fully clothed, on the bed. Even with the light off, she could clearly see the outline of her stark bedroom. Silver light filtered in through the high window – there was a full moon tonight. It was nearing midnight but Naples was still busy. Luisa caught the ebb and flow of voices, laughter, and the occasional shout. Somewhere a dog barked and a car alarm went off.
Naples was never silent.
Luisa would have thought that, after the day she’d had, she would have fallen into an exhausted slumber immediately. However, she did not. Instead, she lay listening to the city before eventually falling into a fitful doze.
***
It had just struck midnight when Mario Ponte parked his scooter in front of the police station and removed two boxes of hot pizza from the plastic pannier on the back. He did not hesitate as he walked towards the front entrance, knowing that even now, he would be under surveillance.
It was a bold move – some would say reckless – but Mario Ponte was a desperate man.
She had to die.
Mario sauntered into the front entrance and buzzed the intercom. A tired face appeared behind the glass.
“Yes?” the police officer asked wearily, “what do you want?”
“Pizza delivery for two,” Mario made sure he did not appear too eager. No pizza delivery mule would be happy to be making a midnight delivery.
“Wait there,” the face disappeared before reappearing a few moments later, “no one's ordered any pizza here.”
Mario frowned in confusion, “yes they did – someone called in twenty minutes ago – said the last two pizzas were so good they wanted more of the same.”
The police officer frowned. There had been a delivery earlier – two pizzas. Had Catanese ordered more and forgotten to call downstairs? That was unlike him.
They were probably still going through the mug shots. Still, he wasn't happy about letting this guy in.
“Let me check,” he turned from the window and called Catanese's cell phone. It was switched off. The police officer sighed; irritated that he had to be bothered with this.
“Look, just drop the pizzas off inside the door and I'll make sure they're taken upstairs.” He turned back to the window and eyed the pizza delivery boy. He looked tired – poor kid probably earned five euros an hour.
“Right – that's fine,” the delivery boy replied affably, “but I'll need payment. Ten euros.”
The police officer sighed again. Damn Catanese!
“Alright, come through.”
The armored door clicked open. Mario Catanese smiled and slipped inside.
***
It was no good. Sleep eluded Luisa no matter which way she lay. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and she could not seem to relax. The mattress was lumpy and springs poked into her back. Eventually, she sat up and decided a trip to the toilet might help things along. She fumbled for the light; a small lamp by the bed before padding, barefoot, across the room to the door. Outside in the corridor, she searched for the light switch but could not find it. Like a blind-woman she slid her hands up and down the wall, stretching out her fingers in search of a familiar plastic box – nothing. She would have to find the toilet in darkness; Catanese had said it was at the end of the corridor so it would not be difficult to find. She started up the corridor; the tiles cool on the soles of her feet. She had nearly reached the bathroom when the whisper of the smoke-stop door at the far end of the corridor made her freeze mid-step.
Someone was up here – and that same someone was taking great care to move quietly. Luisa's heart started to pound and terror slid like icy water over her, from the crown of her head downwards.
