The Dark Heart of Florence: Number 6 in series (Michele Ferrara) by Michele Giuttari Page B
Authors: Michele Giuttari
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Costanza’s withdrawals, deposits and transfers during the last quarter. This request also met with a certain resistance. The official explained that a specific search warrant was necessary: the other warrant had only referred to the safe-deposit box.
Unfazed, Rizzo took out a second warrant authorising him to check all Costanza’s accounts. ‘Here you go,’ he said, putting it on the desk.
The official read it then started typing on the keyboard of his computer.
Costanza had only one current account, with a balance of almost two hundred thousand euros. Rather a lot to keep in a current account, Rizzo thought. But maybe he wasn’t all that bothered about not earning interest.
‘What about withdrawals?’ he asked.
‘There are a lot of them. It’s going to take a while to put them all together.’
‘In that case, can you tell me the most recent ones?’
‘The last one was a week ago. He withdrew fifty-five thousand euros.’
The same day the safe-deposit box had been opened. Surely too much of a coincidence.
‘In cash or in a banker’s draft?’
‘In cash.’
‘Could I speak to the cashier?’
‘Certainly, I’ll call her in.’
After a couple of minutes a very pretty and very tanned young woman no older than twenty-five entered the office.
‘I’ve already explained the situation to my colleague,’ the official told Rizzo.
Rizzo stood up and introduced himself. ‘What can you tell me?’ he asked.
‘I remember that withdrawal. I knew the Senator, and I was surprised when he asked for such a large sum in cash. He wanted it all in five-hundred-euro notes.’
‘Where did he put the money?’
‘In a leather briefcase. I remember it well. I was amazed that the Senator would use such a shabby-looking case.’ She clearly had a very good memory.
‘Was he alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you see whether anyone was waiting for him outside?’
‘I couldn’t see outside from where I was sitting.’
‘Can you remember what time it was?’
‘We’d only just opened.’
‘Thank you, signorina.’ Rizzo took a business card from his wallet and gave it to her. ‘If you should remember any other details, please give me a call.’ He turned to the official. ‘When will the paperwork be ready?’
‘In a couple of days.’
‘Either I or someone else from the
Squadra Mobile
will be back the day after tomorrow.’
‘All right. It’ll be ready for you.’
‘I’m sure it’s not necessary to say this, but I must ask you to be totally discreet.’
The official and the cashier both nodded.
When Rizzo left the bank, he found himself buffeted by a hot wind: the sirocco. He stopped for a few moments, looked around, then walked in the direction of the Via Cavour. After about a hundred yards, he went into a bar. He ordered a glass of mineral water and a cold coffee, then gave in to the temptation of a chocolate croissant. He needed the energy. He still had a long day ahead of him and he would almost certainly skip lunch.
What safe-deposit box did that key open? he wondered. Above all, why had Costanza withdrawn so much cash on the same day? And where had that worn briefcase and its fifty-five thousand euros ended up?
He had been present throughout the search of the villa, and certainly couldn’t remember their finding a case like that. Was it possible the killer had taken it with him?
And had it contained anything else apart from the money?
Immersed in his thoughts, Rizzo went back to his car, which was parked near Headquarters. And he realised that the surprises weren’t over yet.
The ticket was for parking in a no-parking zone. Rizzo slid it out from under the windscreen wiper with a grimace of annoyance.
The traffic wardens really had it in for the police. The bastards!
He checked, and he had left the sign with
State Police
in plain view on the windscreen. Clearly the warden hadn’t given a damn about that, even though he must have known he was increasing the nervous tension the
Unfazed, Rizzo took out a second warrant authorising him to check all Costanza’s accounts. ‘Here you go,’ he said, putting it on the desk.
The official read it then started typing on the keyboard of his computer.
Costanza had only one current account, with a balance of almost two hundred thousand euros. Rather a lot to keep in a current account, Rizzo thought. But maybe he wasn’t all that bothered about not earning interest.
‘What about withdrawals?’ he asked.
‘There are a lot of them. It’s going to take a while to put them all together.’
‘In that case, can you tell me the most recent ones?’
‘The last one was a week ago. He withdrew fifty-five thousand euros.’
The same day the safe-deposit box had been opened. Surely too much of a coincidence.
‘In cash or in a banker’s draft?’
‘In cash.’
‘Could I speak to the cashier?’
‘Certainly, I’ll call her in.’
After a couple of minutes a very pretty and very tanned young woman no older than twenty-five entered the office.
‘I’ve already explained the situation to my colleague,’ the official told Rizzo.
Rizzo stood up and introduced himself. ‘What can you tell me?’ he asked.
‘I remember that withdrawal. I knew the Senator, and I was surprised when he asked for such a large sum in cash. He wanted it all in five-hundred-euro notes.’
‘Where did he put the money?’
‘In a leather briefcase. I remember it well. I was amazed that the Senator would use such a shabby-looking case.’ She clearly had a very good memory.
‘Was he alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you see whether anyone was waiting for him outside?’
‘I couldn’t see outside from where I was sitting.’
‘Can you remember what time it was?’
‘We’d only just opened.’
‘Thank you, signorina.’ Rizzo took a business card from his wallet and gave it to her. ‘If you should remember any other details, please give me a call.’ He turned to the official. ‘When will the paperwork be ready?’
‘In a couple of days.’
‘Either I or someone else from the
Squadra Mobile
will be back the day after tomorrow.’
‘All right. It’ll be ready for you.’
‘I’m sure it’s not necessary to say this, but I must ask you to be totally discreet.’
The official and the cashier both nodded.
When Rizzo left the bank, he found himself buffeted by a hot wind: the sirocco. He stopped for a few moments, looked around, then walked in the direction of the Via Cavour. After about a hundred yards, he went into a bar. He ordered a glass of mineral water and a cold coffee, then gave in to the temptation of a chocolate croissant. He needed the energy. He still had a long day ahead of him and he would almost certainly skip lunch.
What safe-deposit box did that key open? he wondered. Above all, why had Costanza withdrawn so much cash on the same day? And where had that worn briefcase and its fifty-five thousand euros ended up?
He had been present throughout the search of the villa, and certainly couldn’t remember their finding a case like that. Was it possible the killer had taken it with him?
And had it contained anything else apart from the money?
Immersed in his thoughts, Rizzo went back to his car, which was parked near Headquarters. And he realised that the surprises weren’t over yet.
The ticket was for parking in a no-parking zone. Rizzo slid it out from under the windscreen wiper with a grimace of annoyance.
The traffic wardens really had it in for the police. The bastards!
He checked, and he had left the sign with
State Police
in plain view on the windscreen. Clearly the warden hadn’t given a damn about that, even though he must have known he was increasing the nervous tension the
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