Back to Bologna by Michael Dibdin Read Free Book Online

enough when Tony headed out to the stadium on Via Costa the evening of the next home fixture he soon identified Vincenzo emerging in a group of his fellow
ultras
from one of the stepped concrete culverts leading down from the stands. He had then followed them through prolonged post-game festivities in various bars and clubs before tailing the target home to an apartment right in the centre of the city.
    Thanks to his superb professional skills, Tony had remained unobserved by Vincenzo and his associates on this occasion, but he knew that it would be too risky to repeat the operation regularly enough to provide the total surveillance which his client expected. A remote device was therefore called for, and the question became where to install it. The most convenient location was the target’s car, but Tony had already established that Vincenzo didn’t own one. The normal alternative was some personal possession or item of clothing in frequent use, and here Tony had better luck.
    The Amadori kid spent a lot of time asleep or hanging around the apartment he shared with one Rodolfo Mattioli, a harmless, ineffectual graduate student who didn’t appear to socialise with the target. There was also a girl involved, a red-headed stunner that Tony had tracked to her nest and planned to visit in the very near future, but the activities that
l’avvocato
was concerned with invariably involved some or all of the crew of football fans, and when he went out with them Vincenzo equally invariably donned a rough-looking black leather jacket, the back of which was decorated with an oval of shiny metal studs surrounding a painted image of the official club logo and the heading BFC 1909.
    The next problem was access. Tony considered various possibilities, but in the end fate handed the solution to him on a plate. The occasion was a home game against the mighty Juventus, for which the Renato Dall’Ara stadium was packed to capacity. In the end Bologna lost to a disputed penalty, so the mood of the emerging fans was far from serene. The police were present in force and made an attempt to direct the
tifosi
of either team away from the stadium separately, but the hardcore elements on either side had had long experience of much more ruthless crowd control than the local authorities, accustomed to keeping a low profile in left-wing Bologna, could bring themselves to impose. Pretty soon those who had come not just to watch the match but to get into a fight managed to drift away down side streets and alleys, reassembling in the car park of a nearby Coop supermarket as soon as the police dispersed. Tony Speranza followed the group that included Vincenzo, keeping a discreet distance and trying to look like an ordinary citizen on his way home.
    When they reached the deserted, dimly lit car park, it became apparent that the Juve supporters outnumbered their opponents by about two to one. This advantage increased as some of the
rossoblù
yobs disappeared into the bushes screening off the street, on the pretext of needing to pee, and did not return. It soon became clear that they had made a wise decision. The brawl lasted no more than two minutes, at the end of which the Bologna contingent slunk away to the jeers and laughter of the Torinese. All except Vincenzo Amadori. He stood his ground, hurling obscenities and abuse at his enemies and taunting them to come and get him. This they duly did. Amadori ended up in a foetal crouch on the bare asphalt, where he received a few more vicious kicks before the aggressors tired of the sport and trooped off up the street.
    Tony Speranza had been concealed behind a delivery van parked in the far corner of the lot. He now emerged and ran quickly over to Vincenzo Amadori, who was groaning feebly. None of his companions seemed to be coming to his assistance, so Tony unzipped and folded back one side of the leather jacket. The satin lining was quilted in a diamond pattern. Tony took out an Xacto knife and made a small