Rome
Arconti was sitting up waiting for her and managed to lift his arm as she entered the room. A box of Kleenex sat by his side.
‘I have a private room, which is good,’ he said, plucking one out and dabbing the side of his mouth. ‘Excuse me if I drool a little.’
Caterina, who did not know the magistrate, was unsure what sort of tone to use. Sensing this, Arconti said, ‘I am going to use tu and call you Caterina. I want you to do the same. Call me Matteo.’
‘Signor Giudice, you are asking too much. I can’t possibly use tu
…’ she trailed off as the magistrate fixed her with a haughty and unblinking stare.
‘I am not that old, despite present appearances,’ said Arconti, his lip curved into a sneering expression of command.
Caterina bristled. ‘I am not using the familiar form with a magistrate I don’t know. You had something to tell me, now tell me.’
The magistrate continued to regard her balefully, but his voice sounded incongruously cheerful. ‘That’s fine by me. Sorry if I embarrassed you. May I call you Caterina?’
‘Yes,’ she conceded.
‘OK, Caterina, now will you please look at this side of my face, the side that doesn’t look like it’s had the mother of all Botox injections? I’m sure the frozen half is fascinatingly creepy, but I have feelings, too.’
She looked at Arconti’s face full on, and saw half his mouth smiling. His right eye was moving up and down and there was a humorous glint in it.
‘They are hopeful that other side will start thawing out within a few days,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Caterina. ‘I was staring, wasn’t I?’ She glanced surreptitiously at the left eye which glared murderously back at her, while Arconti laughed good-naturedly.
‘Never mind. And as for the honorifics due to a magistrate, you can forget that. I’m quitting. I know it was probably cholesterol or cigarettes or something, but I blame my work for this. That and my parents of course, they gave me the genes.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Caterina. She hooked some strands of hair over her ear and turned her head so as to look only at the magistrate’s good side.
‘You’re lovely,’ he said. ‘And now you’re blushingly lovely. I found in the past few days it’s become easier for me to speak my mind. I find you lovely, and the fact that that big brooding bastard of a commissioner didn’t see fit even to mention you in all those hours we were together is…’
‘Hurtful,’ said Caterina.
‘Yes. Blume isn’t always upfront, is he?’
‘Not always,’ she agreed.
‘I think he probably communicates more with you than with me, which is as it should be and as I hope it will be,’ said Arconti. ‘Do you know where he is now?’
Caterina hesitated.
‘I’m not fishing for information. I know where he is,’ said Arconti. ‘I’m just wondering if you do.’
‘Yes, I do. I think so. Tell me anyhow.’
‘He’s been recruited by Captain Massimiliani from the DCSA to accompany a German who may or may not have something to do with the Ndrangheta and may or may not be acting as a go-between for the Ndrangheta and the Camorra. He left you here investigating the murder of Matteo Arconti, which, I have to say, still makes a certain impression on me when I say the name. You were briefly under the direction of a magistrate from my office, right?’
‘Magistrate Nardone.’
‘Can’t quite bring him to mind,’ said Arconti.
‘Natty little beard, young…’
‘Nope. Can’t picture him, but it’s all irrelevant now because the case has floated up to Milan and into the all-devouring embrace of the anti-Mafia magistrates.’
‘You are very well informed, Giudice.’
‘Call me Matteo, and, really, use the familiar form,’ he attempted a smile, and Caterina’s eye was drawn back to the sneer stamped on the left side of his face. ‘I’m informed because I’ve been talking to this Massimiliani I mentioned. He wanted to know a few things about Blume.’
‘When was this?’ asked Caterina. ‘I was given to understand that you were in a coma. In fact I was surprised when the doctor called.’
‘Yes, it was Massimiliani’s idea to say I was totally incapacitated. It was such an opportunity for a plausible lie he simply could not let it pass, even if it served no purpose whatsoever. Not that I’m up and dancing yet, but no coma. Is Blume a principled man?’
Caterina fell silent.
‘If it helps,’ said Arconti with another lopsided grin, ‘I think he is but…’
‘But?’ asked Caterina. ‘What has he done? Or what are you going to ask him to do?’
‘I am not going to ask him to do anything, Caterina. But he took a doubtful initiative. I think his motives were pure — well, not pure but justifiable — and I think he was looking out for me…’
‘Don’t make excuses for him,’ she said.
‘You’re right. Still, I get the feeling that Blume has embraced a philosophy he doesn’t believe in, and it’s led him in the wrong direction. I’d be interested to know whether you are accompanying him on it… You haven’t a clue what I am talking about, have you?’
‘No.’
‘That means he’s on his own.’
‘You are still talking in riddles, Giudice.’
‘When Massimiliani found out I was not a vegetable, he came in to ask me about a confession apparently made by Curmaci’s wife, Maria Itria. When I said I had spoken to the woman but never received any confession, quite the contrary really, he showed me a transcript, adding that copies of the same had been leaked to the press, and one in particular could be tracked back to a policeman in your office who is known to do anything for a bit of cash and is therefore usually kept away from sensitive information…’
‘Rospo,’ said Caterina.
‘So the confession was fed to him, or left where he would find it. Massimiliani anticipated this by conducting his own search, and meanwhile Blume takes a leave of absence…’
‘I understand,’ said Caterina. ‘Blume falsified a confession by a Mafia wife.’
‘Exactly. You’re very quick on the uptake. Massimiliani was full of admiration for this technique, and I think he might really want to recruit Blume whose name, I admit, I am responsible for putting forward. Me, I have my doubts that Blume’s action was such a good idea. He put the woman’s life in direct and immediate danger, and perhaps the lives of her two children.’
‘Blume is a stupid, arrogant bastard,’ said Caterina. ‘He can deal with this himself.’ A thought struck her. ‘I hope you’re not implying I had anything to do with it?’
‘No. I am not accusing you of complicity. I meant what I said: I am not going to be a magistrate after I get out of here. I just want to make things as right as possible on my last case. Has the arrogant bastard been phoning you?’
‘He has been avoiding me more than anything. He’s been avoiding me for a year now, come to think of it. We were supposed to… sorry, you don’t need personal details.’
‘I would like to help.’ The magistrate closed his right eye sympathetically, while his left eye continued to glare at her.
‘Commissioner Blume is a coward,’ said Caterina.
‘That’s very harsh, Inspector.’
‘He has it in his power to do good for himself and others; he refuses to do it through fear, and calls it principle.’
‘He did it to draw Curmaci out. I think he did it for me.’ Arconti dabbed the side of his mouth again and asked Caterina to help him drink a glass of water. It was an awkward moment, and she kept apologizing as the water ran in rivulets down the lifeless left corner of his mouth. All the while, his left side regarded her with loathing for her clumsiness. Eventually, the magistrate had swallowed half a glass and dribbled the other half.
‘That’s fine. I’m used to it already, though the therapist tells me I must never get used to anything. Apparently I must fight like hell to get back to how I was just the other day, which is rather depressing.’ He dabbed his mouth and laid his head back, addressing his thoughts to the ceiling. ‘Blume is treating Curmaci as if he were a common criminal, which is a mistake. It is far easier to isolate a common criminal than one who operates in an organization. When dealing with the Mafia, it is almost impossible for us to restrict the consequences of an operation. I am not sure Curmaci is the sort of prey you’d want to catch. I withheld some information about Curmaci from Blume because…’
‘Because you’re a magistrate and that’s what you guys do,’ said Caterina. ‘You withhold stuff.’
For a moment both sides of Arconti’s face regarded her with the same expression, but then he relaxed. ‘It’s the system, not the people. Magistrate means master. We do the thinking, you do the doing. That’s why you are called agents. It’s not how things work in reality, but it’s what the law says.’
‘Yeah, well… Plenty of magistrates need to be taught stuff by us agents.’
‘True. Look, Blume is making a mistake. I want you to tell him that. For his sake. This is organized crime, not ordinary crime. People like Curmaci aren’t in it for the money. It’s the power, the prestige, the fear they can instill in others, the power to corrupt, the revenge against the classes that kept them down, the ability to design the political landscape. The Ndrangheta is like an order of murderous monks, and Curmaci is one of the high priests.’