and one was in labour.’
‘A woman?’ Zen queried.
Brunetti kindly ignored him.
‘Meanwhile the Curti clan have issued a statement hotly denying any insider involvement, and offering a one million euro reward for the arrest and conviction of the killer. In short, we have a vast list of potential suspects, but no hard evidence against any of them, while almost all seem to have unbreakable alibis.’
‘What about the forensic tests on the car? Fibres, hairs and so on.’
‘Masses of it, ninety-nine per cent canine. Curti kept a Labrador. And swathes of fingerprints, too, but even if we made a match it would prove nothing. Almost all the suspects will have been in that Audi at one time or another, most of them very recently.’
‘And the gun?’
‘A spent cartridge case was found in the car, suggesting an autoloading pistol. It’s a rimless, brass-coated steel model with as yet unidentified headstamps, probably of foreign origin. Ballistics ran the markings on the bullet through the system. Nothing. It looks like a virgin.’
‘A hired assassin? It sounds as though plenty of people wanted Curti dead, just as long as they had an unbreakable alibi. And there’s any number of under-employed people with the necessary skills and equipment in eastern Europe these days.’
‘It’s conceivable,’ Brunetti acknowledged.
Zen stood up, clasping his briefcase.
‘Well, sounds like an interesting challenge. Please let me know if anything new should emerge. At any hour of the day or night. Otherwise I’ll just try to keep out of your way.’
He was walking with bowed head along the interminable corridors of the Questura when he heard running footsteps behind him. A young man in patrolman’s uniform appeared.
‘Dottor Zen! Forgive me, but we just passed and I recognised you.’
Zen stared at him blankly. The patrolman touched his cap.
‘Bruno Nanni,
dottore
. I was your driver during your visit last year to the Alto Adige.’
Zen smiled broadly.
‘So it all worked out?’ he said with genuine pleasure.
‘My transfer came through about ten days later. Incredible, eh? And all thanks to you,
capo
!’
Zen made a self-deprecatory gesture.
‘I had a word with a certain person, but that sort of thing doesn’t always work.’
‘Well, it worked this time,
dottore
, and I can’t thank you enough. But what are you doing here in Bologna, if you don’t mind my asking?’
‘Just another routine job. A temporary secondment to review and assess an ongoing case.’
‘Have you any plans for this evening?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Then you might care to go to the stadium.’
‘The football stadium?’
Nanni nodded.
‘The club’s holding a memorial service for Lorenzo Curti. Funnily enough, I was the one who discovered the body. Anyway, all the players will be there, the rest of the staff, and of course the supporters. They’ll all pay tribute, in their different ways, to the late president of Bologna FC.’
‘Doesn’t really sound like my sort of thing, Bruno.’
‘It might be interesting from a professional point of view,’ Nanni remarked, rather too casually.
‘In what way?’
‘This case that you’ve come to look into. It has to be the Curti murder, right? The Ministry isn’t going to send a senior man like yourself up here for anything else that’s happened lately. Well, the event itself may be pretty dreary, but the stadium will be packed with every diehard fan in the city.’
‘So?’
Bruno Nanni smiled mysteriously.
‘What I’ve heard from friends is that a certain individual, one of the craziest and most violent of the
ultra
mob, has been putting the word about that he killed Curti. He’ll certainly be there tonight, and I know the bar where that gang goes to booze it up afterwards. It might just be worth your while taking a look at him.’
Zen weighed up the options. After all, what did he have to lose? The only alternative was to eat a solitary dinner and then spend a lonely
‘A woman?’ Zen queried.
Brunetti kindly ignored him.
‘Meanwhile the Curti clan have issued a statement hotly denying any insider involvement, and offering a one million euro reward for the arrest and conviction of the killer. In short, we have a vast list of potential suspects, but no hard evidence against any of them, while almost all seem to have unbreakable alibis.’
‘What about the forensic tests on the car? Fibres, hairs and so on.’
‘Masses of it, ninety-nine per cent canine. Curti kept a Labrador. And swathes of fingerprints, too, but even if we made a match it would prove nothing. Almost all the suspects will have been in that Audi at one time or another, most of them very recently.’
‘And the gun?’
‘A spent cartridge case was found in the car, suggesting an autoloading pistol. It’s a rimless, brass-coated steel model with as yet unidentified headstamps, probably of foreign origin. Ballistics ran the markings on the bullet through the system. Nothing. It looks like a virgin.’
‘A hired assassin? It sounds as though plenty of people wanted Curti dead, just as long as they had an unbreakable alibi. And there’s any number of under-employed people with the necessary skills and equipment in eastern Europe these days.’
‘It’s conceivable,’ Brunetti acknowledged.
Zen stood up, clasping his briefcase.
‘Well, sounds like an interesting challenge. Please let me know if anything new should emerge. At any hour of the day or night. Otherwise I’ll just try to keep out of your way.’
He was walking with bowed head along the interminable corridors of the Questura when he heard running footsteps behind him. A young man in patrolman’s uniform appeared.
‘Dottor Zen! Forgive me, but we just passed and I recognised you.’
Zen stared at him blankly. The patrolman touched his cap.
‘Bruno Nanni,
dottore
. I was your driver during your visit last year to the Alto Adige.’
Zen smiled broadly.
‘So it all worked out?’ he said with genuine pleasure.
‘My transfer came through about ten days later. Incredible, eh? And all thanks to you,
capo
!’
Zen made a self-deprecatory gesture.
‘I had a word with a certain person, but that sort of thing doesn’t always work.’
‘Well, it worked this time,
dottore
, and I can’t thank you enough. But what are you doing here in Bologna, if you don’t mind my asking?’
‘Just another routine job. A temporary secondment to review and assess an ongoing case.’
‘Have you any plans for this evening?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Then you might care to go to the stadium.’
‘The football stadium?’
Nanni nodded.
‘The club’s holding a memorial service for Lorenzo Curti. Funnily enough, I was the one who discovered the body. Anyway, all the players will be there, the rest of the staff, and of course the supporters. They’ll all pay tribute, in their different ways, to the late president of Bologna FC.’
‘Doesn’t really sound like my sort of thing, Bruno.’
‘It might be interesting from a professional point of view,’ Nanni remarked, rather too casually.
‘In what way?’
‘This case that you’ve come to look into. It has to be the Curti murder, right? The Ministry isn’t going to send a senior man like yourself up here for anything else that’s happened lately. Well, the event itself may be pretty dreary, but the stadium will be packed with every diehard fan in the city.’
‘So?’
Bruno Nanni smiled mysteriously.
‘What I’ve heard from friends is that a certain individual, one of the craziest and most violent of the
ultra
mob, has been putting the word about that he killed Curti. He’ll certainly be there tonight, and I know the bar where that gang goes to booze it up afterwards. It might just be worth your while taking a look at him.’
Zen weighed up the options. After all, what did he have to lose? The only alternative was to eat a solitary dinner and then spend a lonely
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