As he was reaching his car, his mobile phone started to ring. That was something he wasn’t expecting, particularly because it came from an unknown number and it was to his personal number.
“Scala,” he answered.
“Detective, this is Berenice Moretti, and I happened to recall some details that might be of interest in your investigation,” she kept her voice low as if she needed to hide from somebody.
Dumbfounded on how she possibly could have had access to his private number, he remained silent for a moment. “Mrs. Moretti, who gave you this number?”
“Never underestimate an elderly lady. I have lived longer and have seen many things you would never imagine. I have my ways to get the information I need,” she giggled, amused. “There’s a young lady, working at the reception desk of the Police Department who is my hairdresser’s daughter. We’ve known each other since forever, and although she was a little reticent, she understood my information was of vital importance to the investigation.”
“Well, if it’s so, then I’m all ears...”
“You are not expecting me to tell you those details on the phone. You should know better than me that those devices are easily intercepted. I am not going to have indiscreet ears listening to what I need to tell you, so you’ll have to come here,” she kept whispering.
A deep exhale escaped him, making him regretting having ever talked to that woman. Nevertheless, she could have important information, and every road was worth trying, but perhaps not that day, as he already knew it would have taken almost an eternity and a half to go through all the details of the reading. “Would it be okay if I come by tomorrow morning?”
“Why can’t you come right away?” She wondered, surprised that the detective seemed to underestimate the importance of her information.
“Because at the moment I’m busy and it will take at least three hours to have things ready for me to reach you. I would also like to return to my life for the evening,” he explained with a smile on his face.
A short pause was necessary for her to think about what was better to do, “So it shall be. I will write down everything I need to tell you, so I won’t forget overnight. I am sure I’ll remember, but it’s better to have a backup somewhere,” she declared walking to the living room to find a notebook where she could have written everything.
“Brilliant idea. At what time would it be convenient for you to meet me?” he asked as he started to walk once again to his car.
“After seven o’clock, any time is fine for me,” she replied, expecting him to reach her perhaps a bit later.
“I will be there at nine o’clock. It might take some time with the morning traffic on the streets,” he considered, thinking about the best route from the Police Precinct to the apartment where she lived.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Detective. Thank you for your attention, and have a good evening.”
“Good night to you too, Mrs. Moretti.”
Placing his phone on the passenger seat, he sighed. He wondered whether his life could have been easier without improvised detectives, who have seen too many Hollywood movies and consider themselves real investigators.
Shaking his head, he started up the engine focusing only on what he needed to take care of once he would be back in the office.
He hoped he could count on the help of Leonardo, but he knew that for the moment, he would have been extremely busy with the results of the lab and wouldn’t have the time to brainstorm together.
CHAPTER 9
That night, in the darkness of his room, Luciano couldn’t sleep. The reading of his father’s will brought many thoughts to his mind and he wondered whether the one who was supposed to die was Madlen, or maybe both together.
If it weren’t for her, it would have been his job, his friends, another woman, or whatever other excuses. He never had time for me; I was just an accessory or a plan B, for those times when he had nothing to do.
He stood from his bed, and switched the lights on, to avoid being left alone in the darkness with his ghosts and demons. He wanted to call Irina as his glance met the alarm clock on the bedside table.
She’s probably sleeping. I should have called her earlier, but I needed to calm down my mother, and from now on we will need to think about the running of the firm. That place won’t run by itself, regardless of whether the leading team can go on for the general matters, they need to have a representative figure in place.
He tiptoed to the window, to avoid making any noise.
He slowly opened the window, to allow the nighttime buzz of the city to enter and break the silence taunting him.
The slight background noise of the few cars that circulated comforted him and, despite the cold night air, he considered the possibility of keeping the window open, so as not to be assailed, again, by that agonizing loneliness.
Fearing that he had underestimated the consequences of his father’s death, he felt a sense of oppression at the thought of the responsibilities that would soon be placed on his shoulders.
The following morning he should have returned to attend classes at the university. I’m also wondering whether this would be the end of my academic career. I should probably get started immediately with running the business, after all, this is going to be my job from this moment on.
The thought of having a job before reaching the middle of his studies, was something that comforted yet scared him. It
