And Then You Die by Michael Dibdin Read Free Book Online

Gemma parked and turned off the motor.
    ‘I think I will come in for a quick coffee after all, if that’s all right.’
    ‘That would be wonderful,’ Zen replied.
    Maybe I’m going to get lucky, he thought. His gloomy reservations of a few minutes earlier now seemed absurd. Why did he have to make everything so hard for himself? Other people just grabbed whatever they could, enjoyed themselves, and thought no more about it. What was he trying to prove by doing otherwise?
    He walked up to the gate and was searching for his keys when a car door opened across the street and a man in uniform got out.
    ‘ Buona sera , signora, signore,’ he said in a tone of voice which Zen recognized instinctively. Sure enough, as the man came closer and caught the light of the security lamp on the exterior of the villa, his uniform turned out to be that of a junior officer in the carabinieri . Zen returned the greeting guardedly.
    ‘Signor Pier Giorgio Butani?’ the man continued.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour, but my superior needs to ask you some questions regarding an investigation we have in progress. I must therefore ask you to accompany me to headquarters .’
    Zen’s first thought was that they had come for him, and this was an elaborate charade made necessary by Gemma’s presence.
    ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘In that case, I take it that you have no objection to Signora Santini going home.’
    The carabiniere peered at Gemma for the first time.
    ‘Gemma Santini?’ he asked.
    Gemma nodded.
    ‘That’s a stroke of luck. You’re on the list too, signora. Do you want to take your car and follow me? That way you can go straight home afterwards.’
    ‘What’s all this about?’ Gemma demanded tetchily.
    ‘I expect they’ll tell us that when we get there.’ Zen told her soothingly.
    He turned to the carabinieri officer.
    ‘We’ll follow you.’
    ‘Very well. It’s not far. Just keep my tail lights in view.’
    Gemma walked back and unlocked her vehicle, then turned back to Zen, who was still standing where he had been before, staring into space.
    ‘What’s the matter?’ she said, as the carabiniere revved up his motor.
    Zen shook his head and walked over to her.
    ‘I don’t know. I just had this incredibly strong sense of déjà vu.’
    ‘Get in,’ Gemma said dismissively. ‘Never mind your psychic experiences, let’s just deal with whatever bullshit this is.’
    ‘It can’t be anything serious or they wouldn’t have let us drive there.’
    ‘Didn’t you say you worked for the Ministry of the Interior? Why don’t you show them your documents and tell them to stop messing us about?’
    ‘These are the carabinieri, cara . Different force, different ministry , no love lost. If I tried to pull rank, they’d keep us there all night. See his signal light? He’s turning left.’
    ‘Yes, I do see it. I like you calling me cara , but I don’t like you telling me how to drive.’
    ‘I’ll never do so again.’
    ‘Yes, you will.’
    They followed the lead car a few kilometres south along the lungomare , finally turning off into one of the uglier developments of what had obviously been coastal marshland until very recently . Signora Pananelli’s husband would have been in his element here. Tower-block apartment buildings and hotels divided the space with huge parking lots and supermarkets. They stopped in front of a relatively modest, and by the standards of the place old, two-storey concrete block sporting the carabinieri crest above the doorway.
    Their escort led the way upstairs and into a room where a man in the uniform of a major looked up briefly from the papers he was studying.
    ‘Signor Giorgio Butani and Signora Gemma Santini,’ the man who had accompanied them announced.
    The officer at the desk nodded.
    ‘Very good, Aldo. You may go.’
    The door closed behind Aldo, but the carabinieri officer made no immediate move. Zen studied him with a professional eye.Competent but