Serpent Song. Toni Grant

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СКАЧАТЬ Sicilian Mafia holy card?”

      “Si! Si! Sicilian.”

      “Enzo, this is important. Can you tell me about the burnt body?” she insisted.

      “Oh Mother, I was hiding. The person was already dead and burned and they bought him in a big black car and put him down one of my mineshafts. I did not know what to do. For weeks I stayed hiding until Sergeant Tom came looking for me and I showed him. Will I have to leave now? I have nowhere else to go.”

      Francesca glanced at Tom. “No, you should stay here. Tell me Enzo, did the men speak? Did you hear what they said?”

      “No they did not speak. Two. There were two men.” Enzo looked at Tom for reassurance.

      “Enzo, last questions, have you ever seen these men before? If you saw them again would you know them?”

      “No I have not ever seen them. It was very dark, very late. The fire was out. I saw the lights of the car and I hid. It is not safe to be alone and unprotected out here. I thought it was ratters. I hid behind the mound over there, near the tree.” He indicated the area with a turn of his head.

      “But, now I remember Mother, one man had blue light. Yes, it was strange like a blue torch. I am sorry Sergeant Tom, I have just remembered that.” He looked at Tom who was transfixed by the exchange between Francesca and Enzo, yet not understanding a spoken word.

      “Thank you Enzo, you’ve been very helpful.”

      “Thank you Mother Mary. Thank you.”

      Tom helped the old man to his feet and led him away from the detectives. Francesca translated the entire conversation to Johnno adding, “Triad initiation involves lighting a blue lantern. These days it’s usually symbolic.”

      Johnno leaned against the bulbar of the wagon and pulled a folded map from his back pocket. He placed it across the bonnet. After a few moments he marked the location of the mine. This was not a random act, but in fact a reminder to an old man of his lifelong duty to the Sicilian mob. It was becoming clearer that they were now locked in a three-way contest between the country’s biggest crime gangs.

      “Johnno, did I cross the line?” Francesca stood beside him, lost in her thoughts. She felt weird about playing on the old man’s fears and illusion that she was the Holy Mary.

      “No mate. You didn’t give him false hope and you put an old man’s fears to rest. Poor guy.” He returned his focus to the map. This track linked with another back road into Queensland.

      Chapter 8

      Chief Inspector Goodwood gazed blankly out his office window onto the roof of the building alongside. He was facing mounting pressure to resolve this matter without fanfare. The media were asking questions, which meant the police minister needed answers. So far, everyone was on his side, understanding the process, but that wouldn’t last. Thank goodness the trip to the Ridge was successful.

      In another event the Warlords and Ares were engaged in public warfare. Decidedly more visible to a majority of the population and more accessible to the media, that problem required a different policing approach. Two pressing matters, not enough information. They needed a lucky break and more time. Goodwood was confident he could manage the bike gangs himself.

      At first, he’d been sceptical of Francesca’s contribution when she joined his new team. But thanks to her fresh approach and recent experiences with the triads, she’d actually brought about good results. The girl thought differently to the men on his squad. She processed information in a very perceptive way and yet presented that same information in a factual, court-ready format.

      At the moment, he needed her research skills. Goodwood checked her biography. Her specialty was Triad but her background and family history was Italian. She understood the culture more than anyone on the squad. A lifelong immersion in her upbringing and regular family holidays to Italy. He told himself it was cliché to expect her to understand the workings of the Italian Mafia. That she would possess innate connectivity to the cultural aspects behind their actions.

      Goodwood was desperate. This matter had to be shut down. The Inspector contacted his Roman counterpart, a fellow he’d met during a police envoy to Australia once. Francesca was fluent in Italian, she’d worked brilliantly with Enzo in Lightning Ridge and she was experienced enough to get herself around the protocol of the Italian Police Force, get the required information and get home.

      “Salucci I want you to go to Rome.” Chief Inspector Goodwood stood in the doorway of the detective’s office, his face set with determination.

      “What? I mean, I beg your pardon Sir?” The Italian’s stunned expression was comical.

      “I want you to go to Rome. You have the language skills. I have a contact in the Police over there; he will put you in touch with the right people in their international crime team. I don’t believe the Melbourne group is working alone. I assume you have a current passport?”

      “Yes.” Francesca could not believe her luck. She held her breath, waiting for the last instruction.

      “Organise it. I want you gone by the end of the week.”

      “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” Francesca almost leapt out of her chair and kissed the inspector on the cheek.

      Rome! By the end of the week! And then Rapallo! Francesca’s mind launched into overdrive. Even she was surprised at how quickly she could mentally move from preparing to meet with an informant to Rome and Nicholas Delarno.

      From that moment, she determined to work day and night in the Italian capital and earn four days off in Rapallo. This was the answer she’d been looking for. A farewell tour of a life that was never hers. Francesca kept her emotions in check. This was her chance to say goodbye for good. Melancholy, hope and relief welled in her blackrimmed eyes. It was nearly over.

      The trip to Rapallo would be easy to justify to Goodwood. She could always say that her investigations took her to the tumbling village town.

      Goodwood turned his attention to Johnno. As the conversation continued, Francesca held her breath again.

      “Johnno, keep digging here in Melbourne. I want you to focus on Chi You and Nero. The OMCG team at Operations can keep tabs on Ares and Warlords. Anything you need, support-wise, let me know. Don’t work in isolation. I want to know if there is the slightest link between these bike gangs and the other two groups. This job takes priority.” As an afterthought the inspector added, “Johnno, this is your operation. Do you agree with this approach?”

      “Do you really think the Italian police can help us with this specific case? If the organisation was still being coordinated from Sicily we would have the information already. I mean the corro between the Melbourne mob and their overseas connections has not increased, in fact it’s been quite the opposite,” Johnno responded tautly, disgruntled at Goodwood’s interference.

      “Precisely. Makes me think they are waiting for something to happen. I think we need some distance. To look at it from a broader perspective as part of a bigger movement. Francesca will be able check first-hand with the Italian international organised crime team. She will immediately recognise patterns or connections with our investigations here. If the links do exist, she can set us up for continued co-operation. If this is the beginning of a new trend, I want us on the front foot.”

      “And СКАЧАТЬ