windows.
'What do you think?'
'I think, Axel, that we go to bed. You are angry?'
'I'll kick the butt off her.'
'I think – you know what I think? I think, and you will not love me,' 'Vanni grinned wide. 'I think you care, and I think you are very frightened for her.'
'I'll kick her so's my foot hurts.'
There was only the night duty officer as company for Harry Compton.
In a mood of stubborn anger he had telephoned Rome, and been told by Alf Rogers that the report was coming, but late that night, and he said that he would wait on.
There was a phrase the commander liked to use, something about the primary work of S06 being 'putting faces to illegality', a phrase recited to visiting politicians and bureaucrats. In front of the detective sergeant, on his desk, was the source of that stubborn anger. A camera at Heathrow had put a face to illegality. Italian passport- holder Bruno Fiori, seven hours earlier, had passed through Terminal Two, Heathrow. The photograph, taken by a camera on a high wall bracket, showed him presenting the Italian passport at the emigration desk, and the order that the holder of that passport should not be delayed, not be quizzed, not be made aware of any investigation, had been most specific. The bastard had gone through, without let or hindrance, to his flight. The photograph showed a smoothly handsome man, well dressed, relaxed, and the bastard should have been in the interrogation rooms or in a cell.
A bell rang. The bell was piping and sharp. The night duty officer was pushing up from his chair, but Harry Compton waved him down and back to his newspaper. He hurried through to Miss Frobisher's office, abandoned and left pristine for the morning.
The message churned from the printer. He read…
TO: Harry Compton, S06.
FROM: Alfred Rogers, DLO, British Embassy, Via XX Settembre, Rome.
SUBJECT: MARIO RUGGERIO.
DOB. 19/8/1934.
POB. Prizzi, western Sicily.
PARENTS. Rosario b. 1912 (still living) and Agata b. 1913 (still living).
Their other children – Salvatore b. 1936 (imprisoned), Carmelo b. 1937
(mentally subnormal), Cristoforo b. 1939 (murdered 1981), Maria b. 1945, Giuseppe b. 1954 (see below).
FAMILY. Married Michela Bianchini (from LCN Trapani family) 1975.
Salvatore (s) b. 1980, Domenica (d) b. 1982. Living now in Prizzi.
DESCRIPTION. Height 1.61 metres. Weight (est.) 83 kilos. Blue eyes. No surgical scars known of. Believed of heavy and powerful build (no photograph for 20+ years, no positive sighting in that period). Not known whether dark-brown hair now greyed or dyed, also nk whether wears spectacles routinely.
He carried the sheets of paper back to his desk.
'Like a mug of coffee, squire? Just making one for myself.' The night duty officer was folding away his newspaper.
'No, thank you.'
BIOGRAPHY. Formal education, elementary school, Prizzi, 1939-43.
Travelled with his father – contraband lorry driver. 1951 – convicted of attempted murder, Court of Assizes, Palermo (victim alleged to have denied him 'sufficient respect'). In Ucciardione Prison alleged to have strangled two fellow prisoners, no witnesses, no evidence. Released 1960, having become sworn Man of Honour. Not arrested since. Charged in absentia with murder, narco trafficking, much else. Believed FBI/DEA have sufficient evidence for indictment in USA. An ally of Corleonesi (Riina, Provenzano, etc.), but thought to have maintained independence. In power struggle (post-Corleonesi arrests) indications that RUGGERIO is responsible for disappearance of Agrigento capo and most recent murder of Catania capo.
'You all right, squire? Sure you won't have a coffee? There's a sandwich here, missus always makes enough for a bloody tea party.'
'No, thank you.'
'Just asking. Only you look like someone's grabbed your goolies and given them a god-almighty twist. Didn't mean to interrupt…'
ASSESSMENT. Extraordinarily secretive, reputation of taking extreme care of his personal security, no successful wire taps, no documentation found. Has also tightened overall security of 'families' in LCN under his control, introduced cellular system, hence no recent information provided against him by the pentito (super-grass) programme. Seen by Italian authorities as ruthless killer.
SCO report: 'Ignorant but he has intuition and intelligence, his actions are most hard to predict'.
Squadra mobile report: 'Violent, aggressive, vindictive, with above-average shrewdness and determination'.
DIA report: 'He has power over life and death, an incredible personal presence, and a streak of violent sadism, BUT (my emphasis, AR) he is reduced to a miserable condition because he cannot move openly, cannot live with his family openly. He is submerged in the terror of assassination, exists in an atmosphere of tension and fear, hence violent paranoia.'
Magistrate Rocco Tardelli (investigating Ruggerio) in a recent report to Min. of Justice: '[Ruggerio] is a supreme strategist, believes future of LCN is in international dealings, acting as broker for cartels, Triads, Yakuza, Russian mafia. His reputation goes ahead of him, he is seen as combining experience with shrewdness. If he achieves domination of LCN, he will seek to direct the enormous power of that organization beyond Italian frontiers.'
At a time when the effort of the Italian state against LCN is losing impetus, it would seem that Ruggerio has taken control.
(See attached for GIUSEPPE RUGGERIO.)
Alfred Rogers, DLO, Rome.
He had thought once that the young woman, in the graduation photograph on the wall above the telephone, was not his concern. He felt a keen sense of shame. He locked the report in the wall safe. 'I think I'll push off then. I'm about wrapped up.' 'Best place, squire, in bed with the missus. They don't thank you here for playing all conscientious.
Don't mind me asking – you seen. 1 ghost or something? Sorry, sorry, just my little joke
…'
Chapter Thirteen
' You will be late, Charley. Can that not wait?' Angela shouted from the kitchen door.
She was hurrying along the back path, past the gas tank and the rubbish bins, to the washing-line. Her bras and knickers and T-shirts and jeans dripped in her hands. The washing-line was behind the villa. Beyond the washing-line was the rear wall to the property. Recessed into the wall was a strong wooden door with a padlock fastening it shut. The wall was too high for her to see over, but above the wall was the coarse scree and rock-sheer slope of the cliff.
'Won't be a second, Angela – won't be a minute.'
She grabbed a fistful of pegs from the plastic bag hanging from the washing-line. She was pegging the clothes to the line. She saw the bastard. Hey, 'lechie', libertino, getting a thrill from watching bras and knickers hung out? Want to get your dirty hands on them? He stood beside the barrow and when she challenged him with her gaze, he started to scratch with his broom at the path to the door in the wall. He bent. The old hand, weathered and bony and dirty, reached down to the ground beside the path and he picked something up, and threw it into the barrow. She saw it. She saw the crushed end of a cigarillo on the top of the leaves in the barrow.
The line of clothes was complete. She stopped, she considered, then she ran back to the villa.
