In a Heartbeat by Sandrone Dazieri Read Free Book Online Page A

big time. On the back of the first page I found the name of the recipient of such great attention. Only the surname, Roveda, was listed. The only Roveda that I knew was a junkie who played guitar in Parco di Trenno, but I doubted that it was the same one.
    ‘If I were you I’d throw that away immediately. They’re hot, especially now – more than before.’
    Before what? I rolled up the envelope, put it in my coat pocket, and left the building. It was only then that I recognised the area. The construction site where the excavators dug was the former Porta Vittoria station. The discovery killed my mood. Another piece of my Milan had been levelled into history, another bad omen. A taxi driver finally noticed my raised arm and pulled over to the pavement. The door opened on its own, sliding to the side. I half-expected it to fly like a hovercraft, but it didn’t, and I travelled normally through the crowded streets. I was so depressed that I didn’t even look at the fabulous new world around me. I had had enough of it already. If only there was some good news for a change.
    The only bit of relief that I had was that the day couldn’t get any worse.
    I was wrong.
    When I got home, the police were there, waiting for me.

4
    The cops were coming out of my apartment and I recognised their stench even though they were undercover. When you had to watch out for them, you learned to spot them, to catch the way they walk and the way they talk. The first one was in his fifties, with a grey moustache, and had the air and stance of a pissed-off southern Italian. The other was younger and looked like the boy who swept up after my old barber. Rosario was closing the door politely, but he reopened it when he caught a glimpse of me turning around to try to get the hell out of there. ‘Good evening, mister.’ Then he added, ‘The police are here.’
    ‘I see.’
    The southerner stretched out his hand, ‘Signor Denti?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Detective Augusto Ferolli, Squadra Mobile. This is my partner, Commissario Brambilla.’ He also shook my hand. ‘May we come in and talk for five minutes, if you don’t mind?’
    Yeah I mind, a helluva lot. ‘Please come in.’
    I had them sit down on the sofa in the living room and, excusing myself, I went to the bathroom. The envelope was burning a hole in my pocket, and it seemed like the cops could smell it too. I flushed the toilet and hid the envelope behind the bathroom cabinet. I made sure that it wasn’t sticking out and then went back.
    ‘Sorry, but when you gotta go, you gotta go.’
    ‘No problem,’ Ferolli said.
    My hands were sweating. ‘Can I get you a coffee? Maybe a whisky?’
    ‘No, thank you.’ Ferolli had a heavy Sicilian accent. ‘We apologise for showing up like this, but your office receptionist said that you weren’t feeling well.’
    ‘Yes, that’s true, and then I felt better and went for a walk.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘Hey, don’t tell the office.’ I winked.
    Ferolli didn’t react. ‘That’s none of our business. Naturally, you know why we’re here.’
    ‘What, am I double-parked? Ho, ho.’
    They weren’t amused.
    ‘No, Signor Denti. I’m sorry to have to tell you, but I have some bad news.’ He paused. ‘Last night,’ he said gravely, ‘our colleagues over at Porta Genova found the corpse of Signor Roveda.’
    He looked hard at me, studying my reaction. Roveda! The phone records! That’s why Spillo was blowing town!
    ‘Shit! Sorry. What I meant to say was— Oh, my God,’
    Quite.
    ‘We can imagine it’s a surprise. Isn’t that right, Brambilla?’ Brambilla nodded in agreement.
    I covered my face with my hands. Should I cry or something? Tear my hair out? I decided on a slight moan instead. ‘How did it happen?’
    ‘He was murdered, Signor Denti.’
    ‘How upsetting … He was so … so young.’
    Brambilla coughed. ‘He was seventy years old.’
    ‘I meant young at heart, for his age.’ Now I was really sweating. ‘Who did