Game for Five by Marco Malvaldi, Howard Curtis Read Free Book Online

closer to the counter. “Why? Isn’t it possible? Has it become illegal?”
    â€œNo, it’s just that sweet sparkling wine isn’t drunk as an aperitif. Apart from the fact that, except for Asti, sweet sparkling wines are usually crap, you need something to whet the appetite, not kill it. A good brut has the right characteristics, a sickly sweet sparkling wine doesn’t.”
    The doctor seemed to weigh up this explanation, then resigned himself to a glass of mineral water. He seemed a lot more relaxed than he had been the morning he had seen the body. For him, the worst must be over. He looked around with a disinterested air, walked up behind Ampelio, who had opened the newspaper at random at a full-page article about supernovas, glanced at it and said, “Massimo knows his stuff when it comes to wines, doesn’t he? Almost as much as Signor Griffa here.”
    â€œAlmost,” Aldo agreed solemnly.
    â€œI’m no connoisseur, but we don’t need a news commentator to figure out what you were discussing. It’s no sin. You don’t have to stop when I come in. What do you think, I’m going to tell Fusco?”
    â€œAll right, you caught us with our pants down,” Massimo said. “Is there any news?”
    â€œWhat makes you think I’d know? O.K. didn’t talk to me.”
    How the hell is it that people always know what’s going on? Massimo thought. What do they have in their homes, satellite receivers?
    â€œListen, we’ll tell you what O.K. told us . . . ”
    â€œThat seems only fair, and I’ll tell you what Fusco told me.”
    Four timeworn necks craned towards the counter.
    â€œI don’t believe it!” Ampelio said. “Has he found something?”
    â€œBut keep it to yourselves as long as possible, please.”
    Believe us, the four faces said, while Massimo’s face made an effort to keep as deadpan as possible. The important thing, when you gossip, is to maintain a formal structure. The person spreading the gossip has to demand the maximum secrecy, and the listeners have to grant it. Obviously, they’ll broadcast the news as widely as they can later. It’s just a matter of time. If someone says, “Keep it to yourselves as long as possible,” he doesn’t mean “Tell it to the fewest possible people,” but “Resist for at least a little while before coming out with it, that way it’ll be harder to trace it back to me.”
    â€œFusco had the trash can searched, and found Alina’s cell phone. He’s been able to read all the texts in its memory and . . . ”
    â€œ . . . and discovered that she had a date.”
    The doctor looked at Massimo and raised an eyebrow.
    The rest of the chorus turned their necks like a ballet of periscopes toward
    Massimo, who had gone around to the other side of the counter to cut the focaccia into sandwiches for lunchtime.
    â€œFusco told me the other day, after he questioned me.”
    And you didn’t tell us anything, said the faces of the old man. Shame on you.
    â€œBut I don’t know who the date was with. He kept that to himself.”
    â€œI’m just getting to that,” the doctor said. “The inspector discovered that she sent three texts, one to a girl, and two to a boy. She also received four messages, all from the same boy as before. In addition, she spoke on the phone for the last time with a girl, the same one she’d sent a text to.”
    â€œAnd what did these texts say?” Massimo asked.
    â€œWhat the hell are these texts anyway?” Ampelio asked, feeling that he was losing out on the best part of it.
    â€œTexts,” Dr. Carli, “are written messages that are sent through cell phones, computers or even your home phone if you have the right device. The kids use them a lot, partly because sending them is cheaper than calling. And besides, it’s