Michael Dibdin - Cosi Fan Tutti

Not at work, though, in however quiet a voice. For rumour had it that when the building had been upgraded to incorporate the various technological marvels of which it now disposed, it had also been fitted with a series of extremely sensitive microphones which could pick up the merest whisper of sound in any corner of any corridor or room, toilets included. There had even been jokes concerning one of the officers on the team, whose bowel movements were of legendary volume, 'making a big noise for himself in Rome'.

No one had been able to confirm or deny the existence of this surveillance system, still less identify who, exactly, might have access to the results, but the prevailing wisdom held that it was advisable to avoid raising potentially sensitive issues while on the premises. The two men in question have no need to worry about this, however, for they are merely discussing their work, and in particular a new file which they have opened concerning one Ermanno Vallifuoco, who has just been reported missing by his family following his failure to return from a trip into town, supposedly to meet two business associates at a famous hotel on Via Partenope.

One problem is that each of these 'associates' claims to have spent the evening in question elsewhere, one at a restaurant (ten witnesses) and the other at home (fourteen, of whom five not directly related to the family), and that each denies ever having arranged to meet Vallifuoco in the first place. But what has brought the matter to the attention of the DIA is the fact that this is the third such disappearance in as many weeks, and two of the presumed victims are successful local businessmen linked to the Camorra and the other a prominent figure in local government.

Attilio Abate, the first man to vanish, failed to return after going out one night to walk his dog in streets surrounding his villa in Baia. The animal, a Great Dane, also disappeared. Abate was reputed to be one of the wealthiest men in the city, the owner of a company which had won substantial government contracts for the supply of military uniforms, bed linen and such items. At first a kidnap was suspected, although no ransom note was received.

Then, ten days later, the second man went missing.

Luca Delia Ragione had been a prominent member of the centre-right coalition which ruled the Campania region until the recent upheavals. Following the earthquake which devastated the inland region of Irpinia in 1980, money poured in from national and international sources, but for one reason or another a substantial proportion of this largesse not only failed to reach the tens of thousands shivering in their makeshift tent cities, but also vanished from the government's accounts. It had since been alleged that Luca Delia Ragione was responsible for facilitating this financial conjuring trick, and that he also knew the whereabouts of the missing funds. The facts concerning these matters were likely to remain obscure, since he had also gone missing. Early one morning he had left the modern apartment block on Via Greco where he lived for a briefing with his lawyer before a court appearance, and had never been seen again. His car was found in the street, the alarm defused and the doors unlocked, but despite an extensive search and investigation there had been no further sign of Delia Ragione. And now a third name had joined this select list…

"I suppose we'd better get out and circulate/ said one of the men, an aggressive-looking individual with a shock of jet-black hair and the build of a middle-weight boxer.

'I've already put out a few feelers/ replied the other. He was shorter and slighter, wiry and slightly feral in appearance, with a scar on his left cheekbone and an incipient bald spot nestling amid his curly, light-brown hair.

'And?'

'Nothing. No one's heard anything, or if they have they're not talking. But to be honest they seemed as mystified about it as everyone else. Only more worried, of course.'

Neither officer was in uniform, and their style of dress was completely different. The shorter one wore jeans, running shoes and an open-neck denim shirt. His companion was in a very expensive suit, a silk shirt and tie and black oxfords with a flawless mirror finish.

'Somebody must know something/ he said.

'Unless Ermanno had a hand in his own disappearance …'

'Even then, somebody must be hiding him out.'

'But not necessarily anyone known to us. He was under judicial advisement, just like Abate and Delia Ragione.

Like them, he has an interest in lying low until…'

He broke off, glancing at the wall. The two men exchanged a glance.

'Until the situation stabilizes/ the elegant one suggested.

'And there are plenty of other people who have an interest in postponing judicial enquiries into their cases until…'

'Until the situation stabilizes/ his companion concluded with a nod. 'Exactly. In which case there isn't a chance of us finding out anything useful. You can't play both sides against the middle if they are the middle.'

There was silence for a while.

'Marotta seems to have disappeared too/ the man in the Lacoste shirt said casually. 'Do you think there could be a link?'

The other looked sceptical.

"I don't see it. Marotta's just a gofer, when all's said and done. The other three are in the upper echelons of the Gaetano clan, the command and supply level. I could see why they might want to take them out of circulation, but Marotta? He doesn't know enough to be a danger to anyone but himself. They'd just hand him over and let him sweat it out/ Another silence.

'Vallifuoco used to frequent prostitutes/ the man in the suit murmured as though to himself.

'So?'

'Maybe that's where he went last night, under cover of that business meeting.'

His companion considered this a moment.

'Maybe. We could look into the car, too. He drove a late model Jaguar, very distinctive.'

'One of the whores I spoke to said he had very particular tastes. Bondage, whipping, drawing blood, that kind of thing. Apparently he used a different woman every time. He blindfolded them and took them to a place he had somewhere near the station where he kept the gear he used for these sessions. They could all remember what the place looked like inside well enough, but none of them has any precise idea where it is.'

'Maybe that's where he's hiding out.'

'That's where I'm going to start, anyway. And you?'

The other man shrugged.

"I thought I might look into the car. That's harder to hide than a man. Probably won't get anywhere, but it'll make the time pass more quickly/ As before, they exchanged a glance of silent collusion.

'I wish I knew what was going on!' the man in the suit exclaimed in a tone of irritation.

The other shrugged again.

'We'll just have to wait and see. It might even be good news, who knows? Maybe there's been a change of heart.

At management level, so to speak/

They got to their feet.

'See you tomorrow, then/ said the elegant man.

'Good hunting."

'You too.'

'So is it really beautiful?'

'It has its charms.'

'You're going to stay there for ever?'

'When's that? All I know is that in a few more years I can retire, and a few years after that…'

'You never used to be morbid, Aurelio.'

'Blame it on Naples. The place reeks of mortality/ "I thought it reeked of rancid oil and bad drains.'

'It comes to the same thing in the end.'

They were sitting at a corner table in a restaurant near Rome's main railway station. It was called Bella Napoli, whence Gilberto Nieddu's original question. They had the place to themselves, this being just about its only virtue. The decor — all seashells, mandolins, dusty bottles of undrinkable wine, fishing nets and photographic murals of Vesuvius and the bay — had been applied with a heavy hand, and the food couldn't begin to redeem it.