Indeed, she informed the authorities three times. The murder of the spouse of a member of Parliament is terrible news. We are going to be under a lot of pressure, both from the parties allied with the Greens and from the Government parties, which are going to be anxious to be seen not to discriminate. It is better to keep this at as high a level as possible, so it is probably a good thing she phoned a ranking official.” He paused, then added a demotic touch. “At least she did not phone the Carabinieri.”
“Well, sir,” said Blume, “I think whoever did this was not a professional. That’s my theory so far. For that reason, the technicians are not going to find the killer’s prints on AFIS, and most of the evidence they get will be exclusionary. Same goes for the DNA. I don’t think the autopsy is going to tell us much either. That makes Alleva a less likely suspect.”
D’Amico pulled his leg over his knee and turned a pointed shoe in Blume’s direction. “Are you saying he did not have a motive, Alec?” he asked.
“Maybe he did,” said Blume. “But would a professional criminal, even one who is not a killer, have made such a mess as that?” He kept his eyes steady, watching D’Amico’s expression.
“Eight months ago, the Carabinieri carried out a raid on a dog-fighting ring,” said D’Amico. “And the organizer of the ring was Renato Alleva.”
“Yes. I know that.”
Now it was Gallone’s turn. “The victim, Clemente, was campaigning against the dog fights. He had cooperated in the making of a television documentary on it.”
“And did this Renato Alleva get arrested as a result of the campaign?” asked Blume.
“Yes,” said Gallone.
“No,” said D’Amico, then held up a calming hand toward Gallone. “That is to say, not arrested. Just detained. Then released immediately.”
“Detained, then,” said Gallone. “Point is, Alleva has a long criminal record.”
Blume turned back to D’Amico. “Nando, tell me about that raid.”
“It was a sort of reality TV thing. The cameras were running, the Carabinieri swept in, detained forty-seven people, took names, charged Alleva and a few others. They sealed off the fight pit. A crew filmed the place, a warehouse out the Via della Magliana, kilometer 15.3, filmed the dogs, interviewed some of the Carabinieri and a few of those detained. That was it.”
“They interviewed some of the detainees?” asked Blume.
“Yes, it’s mentioned in the report. It doesn’t specify who, though.”
“No follow-up?”
“No.”
Gallone clapped his doughy hands briskly as if to signal the end of the meeting. “Well, Commissioner Blume, it seems you are ready to follow the most significant investigative vector, which leads directly to Alleva.”
“Before we grapple with vectors, I’d like to complete basic first steps. Like interviewing the widow.”
“I have done that,” said Gallone. “There is no need.”
“Have you written a report that we can read, sir?”
“I shall be writing a report after this meeting,” said Gallone.
“Even so, I would like to do an interview myself, sir,” said Blume.
“Out of the question. This is a case that requires delicacy. I don’t want you trampling all over the woman’s grief. You don’t have the diplomacy. And you don’t have my authorization.”
“I see. The wife is probably not our main interest, anyhow,” said Blume.
“I am glad to hear you say that, Commissioner.”
“And neither is Alleva.”
“I don’t see how you can reach that conclusion.”
“You were wondering about my whereabouts this morning, sir? Among other things, I was interviewing a woman called Manuela Innocenzi.”
“And who might that be?”
“Her father is a certain Benedetto Innocenzi,” said Blume, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t understand. What’s her connection?”
“Genealogical. Father-daughter. Couldn’t be simpler.”
“That’s not what I meant, damn it. With the case. What’s her connection with the case?”
“Clemente was having an affair with her.”
Gallone sat down in his green leather chair, almost disappearing behind the desk. He crossed his arms while Blume spoke of the bed sheets, the secretary in Clemente’s office, his interview of Manuela Innocenzi. D’Amico shook his head slowly from side to side as if in silent admiration.
When Blume had finished, Gallone brought his fist down on the table, and said, “Just when were you going to break this piece of news about Innocenzi’s daughter to us, Commissioner?”
“When? I just did,” said Blume.
“We don’t need this,” said Gallone. He pulled out his cell phone, then stared at it with loathing. Whoever he had to report to was not going to be happy at the new layer of information.
“It complicates matters,” said Blume, “but I think I might be able to make you feel a bit better about the situation, Questore.”
“And just how do you propose to do that?” Gallone tried to sound scathing, but his question had a note of hope.
“By looking directly at the facts,” said Blume. “The victim’s wallet seems to have disappeared, but I don’t think we’re talking about a robbery that got out of hand. Also-you can confirm this, Nando-the killer left prints everywhere.”
“Looks like that,” D’Amico replied. “It’s too early to say for sure, since we’ve got to get the prints of other people like the wife, friends, and all, but, basically, yes, it seems he even left a perfect 3-D thumbprint on a bar of soap.”
“Then he went into the bedroom and messed about with clothes, including the wife’s. Dorfmann said the stab wounds showed signs of controlled frenzy. I think we can rule out a professional hit from the very fact it was a knife. We’re looking for a person who’s probably quite young.”
“Why a young person?” asked Gallone.
“Older men use guns. The oldest use other people,” said Blume.
At that moment, the door opened. Blume caught a glimpse of a woman with red hair, in a white blouse, blue jeans.
“Oops,” was all she said before backing out of the room.
“Who was that?” said Gallone.
“I don’t know, sir. Do you want me to call her back in?” said Blume making as if to stand up.
“No. I just remembered. I had an appointment. You’ve put my whole schedule out for the day, Blume.”
“Was she part of your schedule? I am terribly sorry.”
“Get on with your theory.”
“My hypothesis, sir. The first impression you get when you look at the chronology is that the killer seems to have operated opportunistically. He knew how to get in. He planned, but was careless about his prints and other things. That’s a bit contradictory, but it means he knows his prints are not on file. All that forensic evidence is going to waste unless we catch him. But once we do, he doesn’t stand a chance. Clemente’s wife and Manuela Innocenzi were both out when the killer struck. Maybe it just happened that way. Maybe not. I need to talk to the wife now.”
“You are not to interview the wife, Commissioner. Not until I say so,” said Gallone.
Blume ignored him and continued. “It seems clear that the victim opened the door. We also found a box of groceries. I think the killer may have posed as the delivery boy to get in. I think he was creative and used the props he found at the scene. The circumstances suggest that Clemente did not know his killer’s face. But let’s say the groceries were not being delivered. What then?”
“You tell us,” said Gallone.
“I don’t know. Was the killer following the delivery boy around, waiting for a chance? That seems unlikely. It seems far more likely that he would have got into the house by some other method. In other words, he must have had some other pretext prepared to get Clemente to open the door. And that means there had to be a prior point of
