The Few by Nadia Dalbuono Read Free Book Online Page A

him the prints. ‘You still want me to see if I can retrieve any more fragments?’
    â€˜Yes, but be discreet. If Manetti or Filippi come asking, you have nothing.’ He knew that there was next to no chance that Filippi would trouble the boy. Manetti was his point of contact for the CSIs — if, that is, he took the trouble to pursue the murder, which so far seemed unlikely.
    Scamarcio thanked him and left, avoiding the other offices along the corridor for fear of running into Manetti. He took the fire escape rather than the elevator, and exited onto a side street. His caution paid off: as he joined the main road, he saw the chief CSI and some colleagues returning from lunch, laughing — over some sick joke, no doubt. He waited until they had entered the building before he stepped out of the shadows. This didn’t feel right, all this cloak-and-dagger stuff, hiding from his colleagues. Once again, he had the sense that it could not end well.

9
    Luca Moltisanti opens the cabinet, takes out the trophy, handles it in the light, and puts it back. He picks up another and does the same. ‘You did good,’ he says.
    â€˜And so did you.’
    â€˜Not like you, Pino. No-one’s done good like you.’
    His brother is at the window, looking out at the rain-soaked pitch, the scar beneath his left eye livid in the light.
    â€˜It’s been a long time.’
    â€˜Thirteen years.’
    â€˜Thirteen years.’ He savours the words, as though it’s a crowning achievement.
    â€˜We’ve missed you, Pino.’
    He laughs tightly, looks away, wants to ring for Security, but knows he can’t.
    â€˜That why you’re here?’
    â€˜In a way.’ He takes a seat, and straightens a trouser leg. The suit is Armani; the shoes are brogues.
    â€˜We think it’s time.’
    â€˜YOU FOUND WHAT ?’
    â€˜Child porn, sir.’
    The chief fell silent for a moment, and then the tension of the last few days finally broke surface: ‘What sick-pig bastards are we dealing with? Why the hell did he bring me into this?
    Scamarcio let him run with it for a while, figured he needed to vent. He had two young boys, after all. ‘I don’t get it, what is he doing with child porn on his camera? You think he was into that? You think he took the photos?’
    Scamarcio still knew so little about Arthur, but what he did know had led him to believe that it was unlikely. It didn’t feel right; it didn’t square with the picture that Ms Santa had painted. He had a sense that the photos served a secondary purpose — possibly financial, but probably not dealing. He didn’t like him for a dealer.
    â€˜So what’s your take on this? Help me out here.’
    He watched the thoughts forming, saw them take shape as he spoke. ‘He had all this money, right, from this so-called patron he never talked about …’
    â€˜Yes …’
    â€˜Well, what if that money wasn’t given over so freely?’
    The chief fell silent for a moment, thinking it through. ‘Blackmail, you mean?’
    â€˜He had photos of someone important doing something appalling, and he made him pay for his silence. When he knew that his time was up, that he had come to find him, he couldn’t let him have the last word. That’s why he tried to save the camera, and put it back on the shelf. He wanted us to find the photos.’
    â€˜These photo fragments — do you see the face of the adult?’
    â€˜No, just the kid. Anyway, I think it could be more than one adult. But they’re men — definitely men.’
    â€˜Ganza?’
    â€˜Impossible to tell.’
    Garramone drew breath, and swore some more. ‘This sick shit … Who are these people? Do you think we’re dealing with politicos, VIPs?’ He stopped to let the possibility sink in, to absorb it. ‘The connection to Ganza, it’s all too close. Chances are that