The Dark Heart of Florence: Number 6 in series (Michele Ferrara) by Michele Giuttari

remembered Officer Alessandra Belli’s request. She told Ferrara about it.
    His reaction was one of puzzlement. ‘You want to involve an officer who’s still wet behind the ears in a double murder case? Are you sure she can be of any help? I think she still needs to put in some time on the beat.’
    ‘She has the enthusiasm of the young,’ Teresa replied. ‘She can help me out in the office and do research in records. I asked the head of the Auto Unit about her and they say she’s very meticulous and always willing to help.’
    Just like you
, Ferrara thought.
    ‘Teresa,’ he said, ‘enthusiasm isn’t enough in our job, but I’ll ask the Commissioner to second her to us for a month. Is that long enough to try her out?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Fine, I’ll let you know. For now, good luck.’
    Teresa smiled. She was going to need it.

23
    The Special Ops team occupied a separate wing on the third floor. They mainly dealt with terrorism and cases of a politically sensitive nature.
    Teresa was sceptical. But she was wrong.
    She was received by Giuseppe Barba, the director, a massive man, his physique even more impressive when you heard his delicate, almost girlish voice. He did not even ask her why she needed a reliable expert, but he could tell from her anxious look that it was urgent. He took a pen and a piece of paper and wrote down the name and address of the person he normally used.
    ‘He’s young and extremely discreet. He wanted to be a police officer, but failed the medical. He was about an inch short of the required height.’
    ‘Only an inch?’ Teresa said, amazed.
    ‘That’s all. Obviously the examining board was very strict that year.’
    ‘Or perhaps he just didn’t know the right people.’
    Barba nodded. ‘That’s a possibility.’
    ‘Can you phone him to let him know I’m coming?’
    ‘I’ll do that right away.’ He found the number in his diary, picked up the phone and rang the young expert. When he hung up, he smiled at Teresa. ‘You can go right now, he’s expecting you. You owe me a coffee.’
    ‘I owe you more than that,’ she said, returning the smile. She was just about to leave the room when Barba called her back.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘I’d advise you not to turn up empty-handed.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Take him something police-related. A gadget, a crest, something he might be interested in for his collection. He’ll become your friend for life. He might even be more helpful.’
    ‘I’ll find something. Thanks for the tip.’
    Teresa said goodbye and left, the piece of paper with the address clutched in her hand.
    In her office, she memorised the address, rolled it into a ball and threw it at the waste paper basket. It hit its target perfectly.
    Was it a good omen?
     
    Ferrara picked up the piece of paper and re-read it, slowly, word by word.
    The more he re-read it, the more convinced he became that the message did not just announce further crimes, but also contained a secret. They just had to find the key. Only by doing that would they be able to move the investigation forward.
    Genius.
 
    It wasn’t just a challenge. What secret was he hiding behind that cryptic language? Was there or wasn’t there a link with the Black Rose?
    The ringing of the telephone interrupted his thoughts. It was the Operations Room, telling him that a bank had been robbed in Coverciano. Two criminals armed with large knives had threatened the staff and customers and emptied the safe.
    ‘Anyone hurt?’
    ‘No. Just an old lady who fainted, but I’ve already sent an ambulance to the scene.’
    ‘What did they take?’
    ‘The bank’s carrying out an inventory, but it may only be a few thousand euros or so.’
    ‘Were they in disguise?’
    ‘Just cloth caps pulled low over their foreheads and dark glasses.’
    After he had hung up, Ferrara turned up the volume on the radio that he kept next to the telephone, and followed the communications between the patrol cars pursuing the two robbers,