Death Brings Gold. Nicola Rocca

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СКАЧАТЬ ignoring that little voice warning him that he had only just finished the previous one. He sucked in three long drags of nicotine and felt his lungs cursing against him. The discomfort sensed at his breastbone brought back to memory the ongoing lectures from his mother who used to nag him every time she saw him with a cigarette.

      The store was enormous, luxurious even, but not the exclusive domain of the rich. Many of its products were more or less affordable, Walker knew, even though he had never bought anything there.

      A good-looking black man flung the door open for him, and greeted him showing the contrast between the whiteness of his teeth and his skin colour.

      Walker returned the smile and made towards the first shop-assistant he spotted. She was young, blonde, blue eyes. Definitely very pretty. Reading the tag on her chest, Walker saw her name was Marina Papetti.

      â€œGood morning,” he said.

      â€œGood morning, sir,” she answered, her voice friendly. “How can I help you?”

      â€œI need to speak to the Manager,” he simply replied.

      The blonde frowned.

      â€œI’m sorry, sir, Mister Del Chiaro is rather busy today…”

      â€œTell him that Inspector Walker is here, from the Police,” David interrupted her, holding up his Police ID.

      The girl widened her eyes.

      â€œI’ll call him immediately,” said Marina, before heading away.

      Shortly afterwards Walker saw a tall man approaching. Good-looking, well groomed, expensive suit. A living advert for the store, the Inspector thought, with a bit of jealousy.

      â€œInspector Walker?” the man asked.

      â€œIn person,” David replied, offering his outstretched hand.

      â€œMarzio Del Chiaro. Nice to meet you. May I see your ID?”

      Walker showed it to him. “Murder Investigation - Milan.”

      Del Chiaro was startled.

      â€œPlease tell me Inspector, what can I do for you? Would you like a coffee, while we talk?”

      David accepted his offer, convinced that the other had chosen the excuse of a coffee to bring him to a more private room, far from curious eyes and ears.

      The manager’s office was very welcoming, a modern desk at the centre of the room. Along the walls were huge sets of shelves finished in white. The black marble floor enhanced the luminosity of the bright walls. Two ergonomic armchairs welcomed Walker and the manager.

      Del Chiaro picked up the cordless and pushed a button.

      â€œElena, can you bring two coffees to my office, please? Thank you.” Then he addressed Walker. “Tell me everything, Inspector.”

      â€œI advise you that everything we discuss here must stay between us..”

      â€œYou can count on it.”

      â€œGood. Let’s get to the point…”

      Three light knocks at the door interrupted him.

      â€œPlease come in, Elena,” the manager invited her.

      A brunette, almost as pretty as her blonde colleague, made her entrance with a tray in her hands.

      â€œHere you are,” she said, placing two steaming coffee cups on the desk.

      When she was gone, Walker started again.

      â€œI’m investigating a delicate murder case, Mr Del Chiaro.”

      â€œShould I be worried, Inspector?” His voice showed a touch of anxiety.

      â€œYou tell me,” Walker rebutted. “Do you have something to be worried about?”

      Hesitation.

      â€œOf course not,” the man acknowledged finally.

      â€œI knew it,” Walker smiled. “I’m here because it appears the victim was killed with a necktie made by the company you work for.”

      The Inspector slipped a photo of the necktie from his pocket.

      Del Chiaro stared at it intensely. He didn’t look pleased.

      â€œYes, I recognise it, it’s one of ours.” Then he raised his eyes and met the Inspector’s. “I remember reading a couple of days ago that a man had been murdered. But I don’t recall having read that a MODADUOMO necktie was used to kill him.”

      â€œWe’ve decided to feed journalists only with the basic information, without entering into details. They’ve already begun adding their own, making up false details to pull in more readers.

      The man invited him to continue, as he started stirring his coffee.

      Walker did the same, and then drank the coffee in one gulp.

      â€œExcellent,” he said pointing at the cup. “I believe such a large company must have a software program that manages the flow of incoming and outgoing goods, please correct me if I’m wrong.”

      â€œIt does,” the manager confirmed.

      â€œPerfect. Would you be so kind as to tell me how it works? How you manage articles, inventories, colours…”

      The manager nodded.

      â€œEach item has a code, indicating the item, model, colour, fabric… Well, the code creates an identity card of the product.”

      â€œVery convenient,” Walker interrupted him.

      â€œIndeed” the manager continued. “Imagine we have a white silk necktie with a herringbone motif. Suppose its identification code is CSS9047.”

      â€œI’m following you,” said Walker, “That’s where I want to go. Let’s suppose that we have the same silk necktie with the herringbone motif, but it’s red instead of white. Would its code be the same, since it’s the same model, or would it be different, considering that it’s a different colour?”

      The manager didn’t hesitate.

      â€œIf it’s only the colour that changes, then it will change only the last digit of the code. For example… if the white one ends with the number 7, the red one will end with… number 8.”

      â€œThat’s what I thought,” said Walker. “Would you be able to track back to anyone who bought, in one of your branches, two, three, four or an infinite number of gold coloured neckties?”

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