Michael Dibdin: Cosi Fan Tutti

'You do that/ said Gesualdo. 'Otherwise your insurance rates could soar sky-high. Right, Sabati?'

'That's right/ agreed the other man through a mouthful of the stuffed pizza. 'See, we have two kinds of rates. Low risk and high risk, we call them in the trade. Up to now this establishment has always been regarded as a low risk, but if it turns out that you're selling ice-cream on the side, it might become necessary to reassess your classification.'

'Ice-cream is a very unstable substance/ Gesualdo observed solemnly. 'If it's not handled properly, the results can be disastrous. Remember what happened to Ernesto's workshop, just down the street here? The blaze was so intense they never did figure out how many Moroccans he had cooped up in there. Luckily for us, his insurance had just lapsed.'

He turned to his companion.

'Oh, Sabati! Still feeding your face? We've got calls to make. Let's go!'

The men walked out into the crowded street, leaving the old man and his wife alone. They went about their work silently, avoiding each other's eyes.

'Stop here.'

The driver turned.

'You're not planning to have her in the cab, are you?

That'll cost you plenty.'

Aurelio Zen eyed him coldly.

'I'll pay what's on the meter when we get back.'

'Eh no, dottorel What am I supposed to do while you're going at it? Stand around in the street and catch my death of cold? To say nothing of the fear of getting mugged. This is a dangerous area, you know.'

A thought struck him.

'Unless you want me to stay. Is that it, duttd? You want me to watch while you…'

Zen got out of the taxi, leaving the door open, and walked over to the open fire of broken-up fruit crates blazing at the street corner. One of the two prostitutes stationed there, a brunette with long slender legs, was feeding the flames from a pile of wood stacked nearby. The other, a busty blonde, watched Zen approach with a keen appraising look.

'Good evening, ladies/ he said.

The brunette straightened up and looked at him with an expression of amusement.

'What exquisite manners!' she enthused. 'And a very good evening to you, cummendatb.'

'What can we do for you?' demanded the other. 'It's a hundred for a one-off in the car, or a hundred and fifty per hour elsewhere, minimum two hours. And this week only we have a special package, you can have both of us at a twenty per cent discount.'

Zen flashed his identity card briefly.

'I'm with the police.'

The brunette fluttered her eyelashes.

'That's OK. We fuck anybody/ 'I've got a proposition I want to put to you/ Zen went on. 'Is there somewhere we can talk?'

'You want to talk about it?' the blonde exclaimed in a tone of mock alarm. "I think we'll pass. This is just too kinky.'

Zen opened another fold of his wallet and extracted two banknotes. He handed one to each of the prostitutes.

'Here's a little earnest money. If you don't like my proposal, you can keep this for your time and trouble. If you do, there's more where this came from.'

The brunette hoisted her skirt, revealing a further astonishing length of leg, and tucked the banknote under the strap of her suspender belt. She leaned over and murmured something in dialect to the blonde. After a rapid exchange, she turned back to Zen.

'There's a bar about four blocks from here. We can talk there.'

Zen pointed to the fire.

'What about your pitch? You want to arrange for someone to keep an eye on it for you?'

The blonde smiled.

'That won't be necessary.'

'Not after what happened to that newcomer who tried to muscle in while we were out of town one weekend/ the brunette explained as they walked over to the waiting cab. 'She still limps quite heavily, I understand.'

'And you know what?' the blonde put in. 'The bitch is making better money now than she ever did before.

There's no accounting for taste.'

'Or the lack of it.'

The bar was a large, anonymous place near the station, patronized at this hour by a few late travellers, a group of railwaymen, a municipal cleaning crew and a battered, bloated woman of indeterminate age who eyed Zen's companions with a piercing mixture of envy and malicious contempt.

Zen ordered a mint tea, the brunette an espresso, the blonde a hot chocolate. The only tables had been taken by the travellers and the hostile older woman, so they headed for a quiet corner above a glass display case where a few sad sandwiches lay curling up on metal trays under damp towels.

'We'd better introduce ourselves/ the brunette announced abruptly. "I am Libera.'

Tolanda/ murmured the blonde, peeking down at her extensive cleavage as though for confirmation.

Zen hesitated an instant.

'Alfonso Zembla/ he said.

'So let's hear your proposition, Signor Zembla.'

Zen removed the tea-bag from his cup.

'In a word, I want you to seduce two young friends of mine.'

Libera downed her coffee in two large gulps.

'They're young, you say?'

'In their twenties.'

'Good-looking?'

'Not bad.'

'Well off?'

'Loaded.'

Iolanda sighed languidly.

'So what's the catch? The girls should be falling over themselves to get at them.'

Extending the little finger of his right hand, Zen raised the cup to his lips.

'The catch is that they're already in love. And faithful.

Models of devotion and constancy Since they met their respective fidanzate, neither has so much as looked at another woman.'

The two prostitutes exchanged glances.

'And where do you come in?' asked Libera.

Zen turned his head and spat to one side.

'Those little prigs have been breaking my balls about this for months!' he exclaimed. 'They're just like these hypocritical politicians we have running around now, making out they're some new breed of men, clean, honest and incorruptible, unlike the old shits like us who've been running the country since they were crapping in their nappies. It makes me sick! Gesualdo and Sabatino claim they're not like other men, always checking out the room for something fresh and new. God forbid! Their love is the only one worthy of the name, the purest and most perfect emotion which the world has ever seen and which will endure eternally, etcetera, etcetera.'

'How sweet!' cried Iolanda, placing one hand on her breast.

'You may think so, signorina,' Zen retorted, 'but me and the rest of the lads have had just about as much as we can stand. So we've made a little plan. The two girls this pair are so mad about are out of town for a few weeks, and we aim to put all their fine talk to the test.'

Libera smiled thoughtfully.

'It's intriguing. Definitely more imaginative than our normal line of work.'

'But will it pay as much?' queried Iolanda. 'A girl's got to make a living, you know.'

Zen took a sip of tea and eyed them both.

"I can offer you five hundred thousand each down, and the same again if you succeed.'

'For two weeks' work?' the blonde exclaimed indignantly.

'We can make more than that in a few nights on the street!'

'Not if I bust you for prostitution, tax evasion, and corrupting a minor/ Zen retorted with a smile.

'What minor?'

He shrugged.

"I can easily find one. The city's full of corrupt minors.'

Iolanda pushed her hair back impatiently.

"I don't think it's very nice of you to threaten us.'

Zen laughed insincerely.

'Only joking! If you don't think you're up to the challenge, I can always find someone else. But you two are definitely the most stunning-looking women I've seen so far. If anyone can bring this off, you can.'

He produced the two snapshots which Valeria gave him earlier, showing each couple posed self-consciously against a view of a sunlit beach.