Death in Tuscany (51 page)

The van took the autostrada leading north.

It exited at the Carrara tollbooth and set off in the direction of Carrara itself, but bypassed the town and instead took the mountain road. Afraid he would lose sight of it, Sergi put on speed, and managed to keep it in view without being spotted.

Before Colonnata, the van turned left towards Torano and Fantiscritti. There were only the two vehicles on the road now, and Sergi slowed down, as if undecided on the road to follow, then also turned left.

The van was gone.

He put on speed.

He drove round in a long curve, but the van was nowhere to be seen.

After driving another four hundred yards or so, Sergi and Scugni spotted it parked inside a quarry. They made a note of the quarry number: 206.

Elisa Rocca was sitting on a chair in one of the waiting rooms on the ground floor, shivering despite the heat, and nursing a plastic cup of coffee which a constable had offered her.

She looked up when Ascalchi and Venturi came in.

'Look who's here!' Venturi said, sitting down on the chair next to her. 'They say you drank a few glasses too many'

Elisa tried to smile, then, turning to Ascalchi, said, 'I don't know you . . . We've never met, have we?'

'This is Superintendent Ascalchi,' Venturi said.

'But I wanted to talk to Ferrara.'

'He's not here, but we spoke to him on the phone and he told us to come and hear what you have to say. Then we'll report back to him.' Being near her, Venturi could smell her: the unpleasant odour of someone who hasn't washed for several days.

Elisa said nothing.

'I haven't seen you for a while,' Venturi went on.

She looked down at the floor and smiled slightly, but did not reply.

'Elisa,' Venturi said, 'the chief said you can talk to us
...
Is something the matter? Is someone giving you trouble?'

Still she said nothing.

She seemed lost in thought.

Ascalchi was starting to get impatient.

It was Venturi who spoke again, almost as if to forestall him. 'If you won't talk, Elisa, we can't help you.'

She looked up. Her eyes were watery and quite wary, as if she had suddenly returned to the real world. 'Inspector,' she started to murmur in a thin voice and a calm tone, 'I'd stopped drinking
...
I was on medication . . . but then

She broke off.

A pause.

'Then what? Tell us, Elisa, the chief wants to know what you have to say'

She glanced at Ascalchi, then looked Venturi right in the eyes and said, 'I don't want to talk to you

She broke off again.

'What is it?' Venturi insisted. 'What's worrying you?'

'I don't know if I can tell you,' she said.

'If there's something you need to say, Elisa, you can tell us.'

'I know something about the girl.'

Silence.

'The one who was found drugged . . . the one they wrote about in
La Nazione.'

Ascalchi remained impassive, but Venturi nodded. 'What do you know about her?' he asked.

'You won't believe me,' she replied, 'because I'm a drunk and a schizophrenic'

'I know you, Elisa,' Venturi said softly, 'and I know the chief thinks a lot of you.'

'I know that, and that's why I want to talk to him.' 'He's not here. I told you.'

'Then tell him I knew the girl. I know who she is and where she comes from, and I even know who killed her . . .' Another pause.

Ascalchi intervened for the first time. 'Who? You have to tell us, signora. You can't keep quiet now!'

'But you have to protect me
...
I'm scared. Let me talk to Ferrara

'Don't worry,' Venturi said. 'You mustn't be scared, the chief will take care of you, you'll see.'

'Come on, now, who was she?' Ascalchi insisted. But Elisa did not reply.

Ascalchi exchanged glances with Venturi, who immediately left the room. They had understood each other. Ferrara had to be involved.

At that moment, Ferrara was filling Luigi Ciuffi in on what Serpico had told him over the phone on his way back from Carrara.

'I'd say it all fits,' Ciuffi said when Ferrara had finished. And I'm ready to bet on two things. That if we stopped the van, we'd find something interesting in the stomachs of those fish.'

Ferrara nodded. And the other thing?'

'That if we asked the Port Authority in Viareggio to monitor the three trawlers when they go out, we'd find they sometimes go well beyond territorial waters, to meet up with a ship from somewhere in Asia which supplies them with these fish that have something interesting in their stomachs.'

'You've got me,' Ferrara said. 'I'd lose both bets. I think the itinerary is pretty clear now. They get the drugs out at sea, take it to the quarries where they cut it, and then send it to

America in blocks of marble and around Italy mixed with powder . . . And Laprua's in charge of everything.'

'No doubt about it. In my opinion we should simply nab them the next time they come back with a consignment. I assume they don't get supplies every time they go out, but with the cooperation of the Port Authority we can easily discover when they go out of territorial waters and we'll be able to stop them when they come back.'

'I agree. Will you see about contacting them? In the meantime I'll inform the deputy prosecutor and get the authorisations.'

'Perfect.'

Ciuffi left the room and Ferrara phoned Anna Giulietti. After the call, he sat back in his armchair and lit a cigar.

'Chief,' Fanti said, putting his head round the door, 'Venturi says the drunk woman has some important information, but she'll only speak to you. She says she knows who killed Stella.'

We know that, too,
Ferrara thought with a smile, but it was worth hearing her version, and anyway he had a bit of time on his hands. 'Tell him to bring her here.'

33

Elisa was opposite Ferrara.

He had watched her curiously as she entered the room. She had seemed quite unsteady on her feet, was a good few pounds heavier than when he had first met her, and her eyes, which had always been sad, now also seemed scared.

'I wanted to talk to you,' she said as soon as she had sat down on the visitor's chair.

'I just arrived and they told me . . . But why have you started drinking again?'

'I haven't started again, I mean, it isn't that
...
I mean, I was taking the medication . . . but I've been so worried lately. I had to have it . . .' She burst into tears.

'Cheer up, Elisa, don't do that.'

He stood up from his chair, went around the desk, sat down next to her, and handed her a paper handkerchief. Then he called Fanti and told him to bring in a bottle of water and two coffees.

Elisa wiped her eyes. She seemed even sadder.

He tried to comfort her, and made her promise she wouldn't drink again. 'So tell me what happened,' he said gently.

'I don't even know . . . Poor Anila . . . She wasn't a junkie, you know.'

'The girl who died in the Ospedale Nuovo?'

'That's her . . . but she didn't just die, they killed her, it was her brother, I know it was, it was bound to end like that sooner or later.'

'Tell it from the beginning,' Ferrara said. He was intrigued: what she had just said introduced a whole new element into the story. Alcohol-induced hallucinations, maybe, but best to get to the bottom of it.

'I don't know where to start.'

'Did you know her?'

A bit. I felt sorry for her.'

'How did you meet her?'

Elisa did not reply. She looked around warily.

'Well?'

'It wasn't that I saw a lot of her, like I said . . .'

'I understand, but where did you meet her?'

'In my apartment,' she replied, clearly uncomfortable.

'How come?'

'I don't want this to get out. It's just that sometimes I . . . how else am I supposed to live?' 'Sometimes what, Elisa?'

'Lend my apartment to an old client, who brings a friend there, you know what I mean?'

'Yes, and don't worry . . . But you mustn't do it again, okay?'