The Monster of Florence by Magdalen Nabb Read Free Book Online Page B

assuming he’d even registered an event of so little importance so long after the fact, would never for a moment have doubted his right to do what he did. God help anyone who fell in his way in a case as important as this one. There’d be blood and fur everywhere once he started. Why was he thinking of him in that way? Simonetti wasn’t thin, didn’t have a beaky nose or anything … he was well set up and squarish … was it the Captain saying he and the Chief Public Prosecutor hunted together?
    No. His eyes. It was his eyes, they were hooded and unnaturally bright. Hmph. Well, the trail was cold on this job, so if he thought he could solve it after all these years …
    “Of the hundreds of anonymous communications received since nineteen eighty-one—that is, after the point we knew we were dealing with a serial killer and the story broke in the papers—only three are of any real interest. Two of these are presumed to be from the killer himself and you’ll find copies of them in the files you’vebeen given. The third concerns the person we are presently investigating.
    “This man had already come up on the computer because he had, as the letter suggests, been convicted of murder in his youth—a particularly vicious murder, the details of which are in your files—and because he was a known Peeping Tom. Some three years ago he was convicted of continued sexual abuse of his daughter. He is still serving his sentence in the prison of Sollicciano. Our enquiries have already shown that this man was living in the areas concerned at the time of the double homicides and must have known each specific area well since they are all places much frequented by courting couples and, as a consequence, by Peeping Toms. On receipt of this communication a search was made of his house and outbuildings but nothing of interest was discovered. Since that time we have been enquiring further into his activities and associates and he will shortly receive a judicial warning that he is under investigation for the double homicides of 1968, ’74, ’81 June, ’81 October, ’82, ’83, ’84 and ’85. In the meantime you will study the case file provided. Then we shall act.”
    He gathered his own files together and got to his feet, his smile bright with camaraderie and boyish charm.
    “I’ve asked for coffee to be brought to you here and I hope that you will introduce yourselves. I look forward to working with you. Gentlemen, good morning.”
    As Simonetti swept out, trailing imaginary silk behind him, the Marshal let out a long breath and congratulated himself for having stayed alert throughout the proceedings, which had gone on, he noted with a surreptitious glance at his watch, for a good two hours. It was fortunate that he wasn’t required to demonstrate how alert he’d been because, in truth, apart from the bit about the anonymous letter and that last part about the judicial warning and the coffee, he couldn’t have repeated a single word of what Simonetti had said.
    Outside the Tribunal on the broad stone staircase a large group of journalists jostled and scribbled and gossiped. Though it was aswarm as ever, their collars were turned up as fine specks of rain punctuated the grey mist.
    “Don’t worry, they’re not waiting for us,” Ferrini said, sensing the Marshal’s hesitation. “The Chief Proc and Simonetti are giving a press conference any minute. They’ll be on telly tonight and won’t they be pleased.”
    The Marshal made no comment and they started down the steps. Two carabinieri cars were waiting and Bacci was getting into the one in front.
    Ferrini looked about for a third. “You’re not on foot?”
    “I try to walk when I can. Besides, for short distances it’s quicker.” The traffic was barely crawling past them and some drivers, irritated beyond the limits of their patience by endless queues and the grey, exhaust-laden atmosphere, were leaning on their horns.
    “It’s going to rain hard. We can drop