Hunted

by Monty Marsden

  The estate agent spoke faintly, raising his eyes slowly. “I rented that flat out during the last two weeks. Considering the short period of time, the renting wasn’t registered – that’s why it doesn’t appear in the records.”

  The lawyer tried to justify his client immediately. “Only because it was practical, he had no intention of avoiding paying the taxes…”

  “Shut up,” Sensi roared. “Who did you fucking rent it to?

  “He said that his name was Giuseppe Bianchi.”

  “Of course, that’s as original as Mario Rossi3!” Sensi was feverishly looking for some documents on his crowded desk.

  “He wanted to rent it as quickly as possible, without much paperwork and bureaucracy. He paid a large sum of money in cash.”

  “Okay, here are some photos of eight different people,” Sensi said, throwing the folder at the estate agent. The first photo portrayed Antonio Greco. “Look at them carefully and tell me if you see Giuseppe Bianchi.”

  At that exact moment, Claps walked into the office – he looked distressed.

  Sensi halted him with his hand. “Give me a moment – we might be onto something here.” Then he turned to the witness, again. “Go on – do you recognise the person that you rented the flat to?”

  “No, he’s not any of these people, I’m pretty sure of it.”

  Sensi swallowed down his disappointment. In the meantime, Claps walked quickly to the desk and launched Google on the computer. He typed in a name and then clicked on ‘images’. About twenty photos appeared.

  He turned the screen towards the estate agent. “Is that him?”

  “Yes, that’s him,” the agent answered, nodding as he looked at the photos of Doctor Rinaldi.

  3 Translator’s note: Mario Rossi is a stereotypically common name in Italian.

  30

  They hadn’t met anybody as they walked down to the garage. Greta hadn’t tried to do anything silly, but not because she was hoping to survive.

  She was holding the pillow tightly.

  She was hoping that everything would end soon.

  She let Riondino tie her up again and she lay on the back seat of the Mercedes that had belonged to Rinaldi. She had not done anything to stop him.

  Riondino didn’t gag her, nor did he tie up her feet.

  Of course…

  They looked into each other’s eyes one more time. Riondino was on his feet, motionless.

  No more fear. No more terror.

  Simply… nothing.

  Greta nodded towards the pillow that Riondino was now holding in his hands. “Do what you have to do, motherfucker.”

  *

  What had happened during the last half hour had shocked Claps and plunged him into the deepest anguish.

  Everything had happened all of a sudden.

  Maiezza had entered the office out of breath and surprised Sensi. “We have a sighting report! A young man – he saw him enter a building yesterday evening!”

  “Is he sure about it?”

  “Yes, he is – he recognised the backpack, the hat and the glasses!”

  “Where? Where the hell did he see him?”

  Sensi began to shout orders as soon as Maiezza had hissed the address – the building where Rinaldi lived.

  Claps began to feel light headed. The subsequent events were just a series of quick, blurry images in his mind, like a kaleidoscope. More shouting from Sensi, the rush to the car, Maiezza’s mad driving, the briefing with the special unit.

  Everything seemed to have frozen now, crystallised in an eternal image of sorrow.

  The building had been surrounded by the police. The special unit had gone inside. Rinaldi’s apartment was empty.

  It began to rain.

  Nobody was talking – they were all staring at the entrance to the building in silence.

  Sensi grimaced, then he shouted the order. “Get in!”

  Caution was no longer necessary – if Greta was still alive, this was the only way to save her.

  The blasting of the stun grenades echoed in the street – the glaring light of their flashes filtering through the shutters.

  Sensi ran inside the building. Maiezza prevented Claps from following him.

  There was silence for a few minutes.

  Claps was overwhelmed with anguish.

  He held his breath when he saw Sensi emerge from the building and head towards him.

  As he struggled to breathe, he tried his best to decipher Sensi’s facial expression.

  “The apartment is empty,” Sensi said and he shook his head. “We found Greta’s mobile phone and her purse. There’s no blood, thank goodness. There is only one drop in the whole apartment.”

  Claps breathed again. “They took her with them… as a hostage.”

  “We’ll find her, Claps.”

  Alive?

  Claps was struggling to speak – it was as though his aphasia had suddenly become a lot worse. “The c… car… Rinaldi?”

  “We got it – we’re on the lookout for the number plate, make and model. We’ll spread the information in a few minutes.”

  “If they find the car… Greta is with… them.”

  “We won’t do anything silly, I promise.”

  “She has… to… be rescued, alive.”

  *

  The first city lights of Como could be seen from the silver Mercedes.

  The rain had begun to fall heavily.

  “We made it, we fucking made it! It was a good idea to avoid the motorway.”

  “It was a miracle we got out of Milan, but we’re still a long way from being safe, Jack.”

  “We’re closer to it, though.”

  “Now we have to face the most difficult part, Jack.”

  “A few kilometres and we’ll take our chance. Freedom and a new life…”

  “Or death.”

  31

  The staff in the police control room were working frantically – all the police units, including the Carabinieri, were depending on them for updates. Commissioner Sensi co-ordinated systematic patrols across the city and along the main urban arteries within a fifty kilometre radius of Milan. The motorways were being closely monitored at every toll booth and the whole north central area had been alerted to Rinaldi’s Mercedes.

  The level of tension had sky rocketed, the air in the room had become so thick it was almost palpable.

  “Sir! Sir! They’re calling from Como!”

  Sensi lifted the intercom quickly and switched the call to loudspeaker, to let Claps listen to the conversation. “Yes?”

  “This is Sergeant Rossetti from the Carabinieri unit, sir. I’m travelling quickly on siren along Via Regina.”

  “It’s the road that runs along Lake Como,” Maiezza added in a whisper.

  “We have just received a report on the car in question – the plate number and the car model seem to match.”

  “Are you sure about that? Are you sure?”

  “The car stopped to fuel at a garage near Villa Olmo. The person at the wheel got out to make payment and the garage owner is absolutely certain that it was Riondino. He took a note of the number and contacted us immediately. He saw the man drive away along Via Regina.”

  “How long ago? How long?” Sensi was already looking at the road map, thinking about how to surround Riondino.

  “He’s about ten minutes ahead, no longer than that, and we’re driving very fast now. There’s something else, sir… there was a woman on the back seat. She was asleep.”

  “Nobody else? Wasn’t there also a man in the car?”

  “No, sir. Only the man who seems to be Riondino, according to the photographs that have been distributed.”

  “Okay, listen to me now – I’ll order some patrols to move towards the opposite side of Via Regina. Right now, all you have to do is to find the car and follow it, keeping a safe distance. Please don’t do anything else – I don’t want the driver to realise or react to anything. Don’t try to stop the car for any reason at all, t
here’s a hostage on board.”

  “Roger that, sir. We’ll proceed following your instructions. I’m only a sergeant, but I’ll do my best.”

  “Find that car and I promise you’ll be an inspector tomorrow.”

  Sensi took his waterproof coat from its hanger. “Let’s go, Maiezza. Let’s get out of here.”

  “You might be able to follow everything better from here…”

  “Fuck no – I’m going there. We have a receiver in the car, right? And the maps.”

  “I’m coming with… you too.”

  “You should stay here, Claps.”

  “What did you just… say? Fuck no. I’m coming with you, Se-Sensi.”

  “Let’s move, then.”

  *

  A storm was now raging on the lake. Nevertheless, the Mercedes was moving fast along the twists and turns of the road. The lake, which was a little lower than the road, looked like it was boiling up and had turned completely black under the torrential rain.

  Riondino glanced nervously in his rear view mirror several times.

  A moment later, after he took yet another curve at the end of a short straight stretch, the unmistakable flashing lights of a police patrol were reflected in the rear view mirror for a moment.

  “Here we go, Jack. Flat out straight.”

  The Mercedes rocketed forward immediately.

  The car was now speeding dangerously; the rain had made the road surface extremely slippery. Every time Riondino took a turn, he felt he might lose control at any time.

  The windscreen wipers seemed to have gone crazy, yet he was driving purposefully.

  During the few straight stretches, the flashing lights of the patrol started to gain on him little by little.

  “Fuck – they’re close!”

  A turn, then another.

  *

  Maiezza was driving fast. The siren had allowed them to move relatively easily through the city traffic. The motorway junction wasn’t far away now. It would have taken half an hour, forty minutes at most, to get there. Sensi was sitting next to Maiezza. Claps was in the back seat, his eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched tightly. He could hear a buzzing noise echoing in his head – and the vibrations from it were travelling through his whole body.

  The radio transmitted Sergeant’s Rossetti’s voice – he sounded excited. “We got him! We got him! He saw us – he accelerated, but we’re behind him and we’re getting closer!”

  Sensi was holding the receiver so tightly in his hand that it was as though he was about to crush it. “Keep your eyes on him. Don’t get too close. I repeat, don’t get too close.”

  “There are too many turns, sir, and it’s pouring down with rain. We have to get closer to keep him in sight!”

  “Just keep him under pressure. He’ll come to a roadblock in a few minutes. You’ll have to park horizontally to block the road, in case he decides to do a U-turn.”

  Sensi quickly switched to a different frequency. “He’s on his way – are you ready?”

  “The road is blocked off, sir. There’s no way that he can break through.”

  “Any escape routes by foot?”

  “None. The lake is on one side and a hill on the other, and there’s a fairly tall cement buttress on that side.”

  “He has a hostage – when he realises that he’s trapped, he could use her to pass through.”

  “Do you confirm your instructions, sir?”

  “Yes, you’ll have to let him go in that case and follow him without too much pressure. We’ll think about the rest.”

  Sensi switched frequency again. In the meantime, Maiezza was speeding along the motorway.

  “Operative unit – any news?”

  “We have blocked off some roads from the roadblock area onwards and we have created an unavoidable route. It will take the car to a dead end.”

  “The special unit?”

  “They’ve arrived at the hot spot – the snipers will take their positions in two minutes.”

  Sensi dropped the receiver and spoke to Maiezza. “Speed up, fuck, speed up!”

  *

  One turn after another. Riondino was gripping the steering wheel. The rain had finally stopped pelting furiously on the road.

  “They’re getting closer and closer as we drive along straight stretches. A little longer, and they’ll be on us!”

  A short tunnel, then another turn. A short straight road. A crossroads and then straight along a road that climbed sharply up a hill.

  “There! Turn there, Jack!”

  The Mercedes slid to one side and almost tilted over, then took a sharp turn to the side.

  “The lights! Turn off the lights!”

  Everything was suddenly dark – the road was swallowed up by the darkness. The Mercedes slowed down and almost stopped completely.

  Five seconds… seven… The police car sped past the crossroads and moved away along via Regina.

  “Fuck them!”

  Riondino turned on the beams again and drove along the uphill road.

  A turn, and another one. Still almost tipping over.

  “They didn’t see us, Jack. We lost them.”

  “Only for a few minutes, Fox. They’ll be back as soon as they realise.”

  The asphalt was worn out – the Mercedes drove over a hole filled with water. It shook the car pretty badly and Riondino felt the hit on the steering wheel. He instinctively slowed down and almost stopped completely again.

  “They won’t be alone – we’ll have dozens of police cars around us. They must be so excited about catching us.”

  “We won’t let them catch us, right, Jack?”

  “There’s one last thing to do.”

  “Let’s do it then.”

  “Are you ready, Fox?”

  “Yes.”

  “Breathe in.”

  Riondino sped up on the wet road, heading towards the turn which jutted out over a cliff. It was roughly a twenty metre drop.

  *

  “We got him – we’re on our way back. There was an uphill road and he must have gone that way.”

  The road sign indicated that the outskirts of Como were about three kilometres away. Sensi bit his lip to avoid cussing, Maiezza began to swear out loud. Claps clenched his fists almost crushing his fingers; he kept his eyes closed.

  “Where the fuck does that road lead to?”

  “It goes uphill – a few houses, a restaurant, a small park and then it goes downhill towards the Swiss border. There are no other roads branching off it.”

  “How far away is the border?”

  “The road is difficult and tight, it goes uphill and downhill, but it’s only a few kilometres away overall.”

  “I’ll get the border police to send some of their cars to find him and block the road. We have to push him back to where we want him to be. You’ll have to let him drive past when he finds the roadblock and does a U-turn, okay?”

  Sensi gave other important instructions rapidly.

  “What if he hides away in one of those houses?” Maiezza asked. He slowed down to take the uphill road. “What if he takes other hostages as well as Greta?”

  “He’ll be penned in anyway – the special unit will be there in a few minutes and they will do the rest. All that we will need is a good sniper and the right angle for a clear shot. I don’t want him to go to court and save his ass this time.”

  “What if he surrenders?”

  Sensi’s eyes were once more filled with ocean deep darkness.

  “No prisoners, Maiezza. The motherfucker ends his career here. Tonight. No prisoners.”

  The city lights of Como appeared as they drove out of the tunnel. The lake was as dark as the night.

  The receiver croaked again – Claps started at the first words.

  “The car is in flames! He drove off a cliff! It’s in flames!”

  Claps opened his eyes. Greta!

  “Is that the Mercedes? The flames are so high!”

  *

  Th
ey arrived at the spot after twenty endless minutes. Nobody had said a word.

  A few police and Carabinieri cars were already there and a few more were on the way. An ambulance had begun to make its way uphill.

  The Mercedes was a smoking skeleton; it was tilted over on one side against a rock, part of the way down the cliff. The heat was still very strong.

  *

  The flames carried on burning for a long time – the small fire extinguisher that Sergeant Rossetti carried in his car had been of very little use.

  Inside the skeleton, there was a charred body on the driver’s seat, leaning forward with the plastic of the steering wheel melted to its head.

  In a small space between the metallic frame of the front and back seats, there was another body. It was curled up, almost as if the heat had shrunk it. The facial features were impossible to distinguish, but a hand was still visible. There was a bracelet around the wrist.

  Claps recognised it immediately.

  “It’s all my fault”. That was the only thing that he wanted to say.

  He wanted to scream. Instead, he was unable to utter a single word.

  Epilogue

  Greta Alfieri had been dead for thirty-six hours.

  Riondino had died too, and Rinaldi had simply vanished. Claps didn’t care about those two.

  Greta.

  For the first time in days, the morning sky was free of clouds and the sunlight unusually bright for that time of the year. That seemed to Claps like a cruel twist of fate, as a conclusion to the story.

  Greta.

  Claps didn’t want to visit Sensi in his office, but he had to sign a witness statement about everything that had happened.

  He also had to resign. For good.

  Greta.

  He almost didn’t hear what Sensi was telling him.

  Greta.

  “We have re-created the scene, or at least most of it, Claps.” Sensi’s voice was hoarse and tired – he was trying to sound more detached than he actually was. “We’re only missing a few details. First of all, Rinaldi… by the way, we still haven’t found him, but I bet that we will find his corpse somewhere sooner or later. Riondino would have never left him alive to tell everything that he knew. Where was I? … Rinaldi was heavily in debt. From what we have gathered from his bank transactions, he was in the hands of loan sharks. He was living a life on the edge – beautiful apartments, expensive cars, pretty women. He had three wives, did you know that? He must have reached the end a year ago, but then he met Riondino…” Sensi took off his glasses and rubbed his palms against his eyes, then he carried on talking. “We found the missing tapes in Rinaldi’s apartment. It was silly of him to not destroy them, sure, but he did us a favour. The two got closer slowly – half sentences, allusions. There wasn’t anything healthy in those therapy meetings. Eventually, they chose to speak clearly – Riondino offered him half a million Euros as a bribe to move him to a rehabilitation unit. From there, he could escape easily. Rinaldi would then offer him shelter in Milan for a few days. Then Riondino would disappear and start a new life. Of course, Riondino never told Rinaldi about all the gore that would be involved in his escape or his new plans for Hannibal. He only said that he wanted to start a new, quiet life, far away from Italy. He wanted to enjoy the money that he had managed to get hold of. Rinaldi accepted the proposal without thinking twice and opened a bank account in Liechtenstein. The same bank where Riondino kept his money. The following tapes are in the Montelupo archive and show some good progress with therapy. Soon after that, Riondino gets transferred to a rehabilitation unit, where the surveillance is a lot more relaxed. Thus, Riondino began to work from the rehabilitation unit’s computer in order to make contacts and find some reliable support in Florence before his escape. We can only imagine what happened after that, but it’s not too difficult. When Matteo Contri takes the bait, everything is ready. Rinaldi probably didn’t envisage that the escape would involve a series of murders and a hysterical manhunt. He was probably still unaware of Riondino’s plans when he rented a flat for fifteen days using an alias as the only precaution. He gave the keys to Riondino during their monthly meeting… Riondino escaped and made his way to Milan leaving a trail of blood behind him. We know the rest of the story very well, unfortunately – the girl at the optician’s shop, the explosion to escape the hideout when we surrounded him, the escape to Rinaldi’s apartment and…” Sensi couldn’t find the right words to conclude. “And everything else.”