Game for Five by Marco Malvaldi, Howard Curtis

shaking. Talking bullshit always made him nervous.
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    Massimo went back outside and rejoined the doctor, who had been waiting for him. As soon as he sat down, the doctor said, “Listen, I’m going to see Fusco and tell him what we said before. I hope I can get him to change his mind, though I don’t know how likely that is. Before I do, I have to ask you again if, in all honesty, you’re absolutely sure of what you told me. Sorry if I insist, but you realize I have a personal interest in this matter.”
    â€œYes, I’m sure.”
    Dr. Carli stood up, carefully draped his light jacket over his forearm and put his chair back in its place. “In that case, I’m off,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve talked with Fusco.”
    â€œIf you’re planning to go see Fusco right now, it’s best if you sit down again.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause there’s something important I have to tell you.”
    â€œWill it take long?”
    â€œFairly.”
    The doctor put his jacket on the back of the chair and sat down, resigned.
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    The doctor sat quite still while Massimo told him what the guys from the Ara Panic had said. By the end, he seemed vaguely disconcerted.
    â€œSo, let’s sum up the situation for a moment, if you don’t mind. Bruno Messa can’t be guilty because (a)”—he took hold of his thumb—“he’s too short and (b)”—his index finger—“because he was somewhere else when the murder took place. Correct?”
    â€œCorrect.”
    â€œSo”—the doctor squeezed his middle finger—“the murderer must be someone very tall, who knew Alina and doesn’t have an alibi for the hours between midnight and one, the time of the murder. Correct?”
    â€œAlmost. He also doesn’t have an alibi for the hour between four-thirty and five-thirty, when the body was found. But obviously he must have been doing something between the time of the murder and the time he hid the body four or five hours later. The inspector told you that O.K. saw the trash can was empty at about four-thirty, didn’t he?”
    â€œYes, he did.” The doctor looked at Massimo for a few moments, then smiled and gave a kind of half-bow with his head. “You’ve been lucky, you know . . . ”
    Massimo nodded slowly, also smiling with his eyes. There were a few moments of silence, which the doctor then broke.
    â€œSo it seems we’ve found him.”
    It wasn’t a question.
    â€œI’m not sure yet, I have no motive and no proof.” Massimo stood up and put his chair back under the table. “But frankly . . . ”
    â€œI’m going to see Fusco, then.”
    â€œHave a nice day.”
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    Inside the bar, Massimo found the happy gang of pensioners, apart from Aldo, arrayed in front of the TV and laughing like drains as a heavily made-up (but male) fortune teller said in a shrill, whiny voice, “Don’t you get it? Look, darling, the cards are quite clear and I’m sorry to have to say this, but he really doesn’t want you anywhere near him, you know? Look, I wouldn’t waste any more time on him, I tell you that right now, you know? The cards are very clear, my darling. Just look . . . What? So what? Find yourself another man! I’m a fortune teller, I’m not your mother! I tell it the way it is! If you like it, fine, if you don’t like it, too bad. It’s clear from the cards that he wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, all right? Producer, can you cut off this caller please? Oooooh! The things I have to listen to! ‘What should I do, Ofelio? What should I do?’ I’ll tell you what to do! Wake up! You’re ugly, all right, I got that. There’s a remedy for everything. Buy yourself a nice barrel, stick a periscope in it, and go for a walk! But if you keep breaking everyone’s