“No, no. I saw the video. My men were there for entertainment value, but also for a purpose. All four faces. It’s clear that Paoloni is the leader. We also have a recording of me giving him the false address.”
Blume glanced behind him. The door to the room was very slightly ajar, and he could just make out the immobile figure of someone standing outside.
“No. We’re not videoing this,” said Innocenzi. “Not that you have any reason to believe me.” He made a scissors movement with two fingers and pulled something out of his breast pocket. “Here. Have this. I am still amazed at how small these things are. Technology never stops, and, to be sincere, I cannot keep up with it. Apparently, all the footage is on this.”
It was a small memory card. Blume took it. There was no point even in asking if it was the original.
“By the way, Alec, why were you with my daughter?”
“Just some loose ends. Don’t use my first name.”
“I’ll call you what I want. Have you gathered them up yet, these loose ends?”
“Well, I was getting there. Then I got interrupted by a man with no ears and a doped-up youth who could easily have shot me by mistake.”
“Sorry about the youth. He’s an apprentice. They have to be broken in, you know? You think it’s moral to go to my daughter’s house like that, just to satisfy your curiosity?”
“She needs to be more careful. She could get herself and you into trouble. Anyhow, it was a setup. She forced me to visit, and your men were there waiting.”
“O la Madonna, listen to you and your suspicious mind. It was not like that. My daughter, she can be impulsive, but she means well. I keep an eye on her. You were seen arriving, and the decisions afterwards were mine. She likes you, Alec. She phoned me to get assurances that nothing bad would happen to you. She explained that you had a good reason to be with her. She told me about her call to that woman politician.”
He pulled out a pack of Chesterfields, lit one, dropped the pack on the table, pointed to it.
“No, thanks,” said Blume.
Innocenzi blew a stream of smoke out his nose. Blume noticed it came out of his left nostril only. A silver crucifix hung from a chain around his neck.
Innocenzi jabbed the cigarette in Blume’s direction. “OK, let’s do it like this. First thing, you’re free to walk out of here anytime you want, and you won’t get grief from me now or later. Second, I’m going to say a few things to you, then watch your face to see what effect I’m having.”
“Faces don’t tell as much as you think,” said Blume.
“You know, I think you’re wrong there, Alec. Or maybe I’m wrong. Hey, humor an old man. What happened to your nose, by the way?”
“My nose is perfectly fucking fine.”
“Aho, calm down. Are you ready or not?”
“What? Now I’m supposed to take on a stony expression?” Despite himself, Blume set his face to expressionless.
“Perfect. That’s the sort of face I want. Now, I think that if Alleva and Massoni were to turn up dead, you would follow another lead before coming after me.”
“That’s what you think?”
“Good. You’re not showing too much expression yet. So that’s what I think, and that is why I’m going to tell you where Alleva and Massoni’s hideout is.”
Blume felt himself tense a little.
“Fantastic!” said Innocenzi. “You can’t deny a flash of interest in your eyes there. Faces don’t lie. I’ve always been right about that.”
“You just gave me a film of Paoloni falling into the same trap.”
“Except that was Paoloni and you are you. I needed some more leverage on him, a bit of compromise power. Evidently Alleva knows compromising things about Paoloni and probably the other four policemen, or maybe they were just there to avenge a colleague. And now Paoloni is even more compromised than before. It’s divine justice, and I love it. Anyhow, here it is.
Alleva’s real hideout. It took far longer than I thought possible to find this out. Alleva’s a slippery bastard.” Innocenzi pulled a grubby piece of paper from the same pocket that had contained the memory card, and placed it on the felt between them. Blume glanced at it, saw an address.
“Not in Rome,” said Innocenzi. “Near Civitavecchia. Now all you have to do is go there, and then get an extradition warrant, because by now he’ll not be long gone. In Argentina, trying to build a new life, bless him. It will be easier for us to find him there than here. Isn’t that paradoxical?”
“Why should I believe this is the address?”
“Make an act of faith, Alec. Why should it not be the real address? I trust you not to go there with a death squad.”
“And why should I think that you haven’t already made a visit?”
“If I or someone representing my interests had visited Alleva and Massoni, it might have ended badly for them, in which case I could be giving you the address to a crime scene that points back to me, which I should never do. I want you to ascertain that Alleva has indeed gone, that I have no involvement in his actions, especially as regards the killing of the young policeman, may God grant his soul everlasting peace.”
Blume did not touch the piece of paper.
“I am steering well clear of this, Alec. Dead policeman. Dead dog lover. I don’t have it on my conscience, and I don’t want it on my mind either. I’m handing it over to you. Do you want that address or not?”
“You just gave it to me. I can remember an address.”
“Take the piece of paper; it’s more symbolic that way.”
“Fine.” Blume snatched the piece of paper, put it in his breast pocket. “I don’t think Alleva had anything to do with Clemente’s murder. But we are going to get him for what he had done to Ferrucci.”
“Poor kid,” said Innocenzi, touching the crucifix on his neck. “You’re doing a fine job, Alec. Unlike your superiors. Even the man’s faithless wife seems to accept that it was Alleva. That’s what her so-called friend in the questura is telling her.”
Blume said, “That’s the line they’re taking.”
“Yes. The guy in the questura, the person the widow is taking advice from?”
“What about him?”
“He’s the same guy your former partner D’Amico works for. I forget his name. I can look it up if you want.” Innocenzi paused to measure the effect of his words. “I can see that was not much news to you.”
“More of your face-reading. I don’t need the name of D’Amico’s boss,” said Blume.
“Yeah. He’s a total irrelevance. What’s he to us? But now this Di Tivoli. What do we make of him? He appears on our television screens and opens twenty-five cans of worms on air. I hate to judge another man-but what can be expected from a queer such as Di Tivoli?”
“Is that all you got on him? That he’s gay?”
“It is an utter abomination, and a detestable act,” said Innocenzi.
“Doesn’t bear thinking about,” said Blume. “But is that all?”
“Transvestites, transsexuals, ladyboys. Also, when it comes to age of consent, he skates on thin ice. Barely legal.”
“But legal?” said Blume.
“What are you, his lawyer?”
Blume said, “Di Tivoli has always followed Sveva Romagnolo around like a lost dog. It sounds to me like he swings both ways.”
“Merciful Jesus.” Innocenzi raised his hands to his ears. “That makes it even worse.”
“How about this theory?” said Blume: “You had Clemente killed for what… outraging your daughter or getting in the way of dog meets. That’s what Di Tivoli is implying.”
“I’ve been talking to people who were upset on my behalf at that scandalous documentary. Di Tivoli is not going to make up any more stories like that.”
“Did you know Manuela had been with Clemente to Di Tivoli’s house in the country?”
Innocenzi closed his eyes and nodded slowly, like a stoic receiving his death sentence. “I knew that. She is so vulnerable it breaks my heart. And your eyes are filled with sympathy, too. You are a good man, Alec. I am happy to
