Death Brings Gold. Nicola Rocca

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СКАЧАТЬ Luigia is right. If you need any favour, please ask us,” she said, indicating with a wave herself and her friend. “On the other hand, if you have certain needs to fulfil… Well, in that case you should go up a couple of floors. Mrs Pina, despite her age, is still very active…”

      â€œTrue,” Luigia confirmed. “When her husband finds out something, you can hear them shouting from here. Even the building’s walls shake.”

      The young man gave a hint of a smile. Then his hands clutched nervously at his trousers, as if he was thinking up an excuse to get away from these two crazy old women.

      Luigia noticed it.

      â€œYes, what Beatrice is saying is completely true. Mrs Pina is getting it on with that really weird guy, the one with a hand and a foot missing …”

      â€œThat’s right” the other woman confirmed. “See, Mrs Pina is a lot older than him. But, you know, there’s many a good tune played on an old fiddle …”

      â€œBesides, she was already doing that when she was young, good tunes,” Luigia remarked. “They say that Pina, when she was twenty, was always up for it. I don’t know if I make myself clear.”

      â€œYes, but now” Beatrice continued, “at seventy years old behaving like a tart … and with that guy … Giuliano”.

      â€œWell, at least they’ve found each other. Because he’s not a saint either, eh. Think that up until some years ago he was constantly in and out of prison. Him and his strange dealings...”

      â€œYes, who knows what he gets up to in that flat.”

      â€œAh, Beatrice, he can’t do much now, eh… with only one foot and one hand …”

      Luigia stopped. She realised that sentence had stirred some kind of curiosity in the young man. Beatrice realised it too.

      â€œEh, yes eh…” the latter jumped in. “Probably someone didn’t like his dealings. One time they really beat him up. They cut his hand and his foot off …”

      â€œYes, Yes, cut off for real” Luigia repeated. “Cut off. Thwack!” she finished, mimicking the movement of a machete.

      The young man’s eyes widened, nodding. Then, a shy smile appeared on his lips.

      â€œNow to home. Tired. Much work.”

      â€œOf course!” Beatrice exclaimed. “My friend always has a tendency to drag things out. Please forgive her, she’s of a certain age.”

      Luigia gave her a crooked eye. Then she spoke to the young man again.

      â€œI just wanted to put this young lad on his guard. So now he knows who he can trust. And with whom he needs to be careful.”

      â€œIndeed, indeed” Beatrice took the opportunity to continue the conversation. “In this building you need to be wary twenty four hours a day, you never know what your neighbour has in store for you. There are some odd types of people around…”

      â€œAnd then they gossip, and gossip. Ah, scandalmongers!”

      â€œSee, one time…”

      â€œSorry. I have to go now,” the young man interrupted her, taking two steps towards the next flight of stairs.

      â€œOf course!” Beatrice again. “Poor thing, you must be tired after a day at work.” Then she said to her friend: “Luigia, let him go, this handsome lad must get some rest. He will have another opportunity to talk to us some other time.”

      With those words, the young man finally felt authorised to climb the steps, while the two elderly ladies observed him with inquisitive looks.

      Once they heard the door of the upstairs apartment closing, the two women said goodbye to each other, arranging to meet the next day. And with that they each took refuge inside their own homes, which were old and shabby, just like them.

      ***

      Giuliani was there, on the wrecked couch, his gaze remaining, since who knows when, on the arm and leg. An incomplete man, that’s what he was.

      He repeated to himself for the hundredth time that at least the disability had allowed him to skip the housing waiting list to be given the miserable abode. Otherwise he would have been forced to sleep in a cardboard box under some bridge. Having to compete for a spot, maybe even fight for it, with other homeless people.

      Those were the thoughts that took hold of him every night; the thoughts that made him believe he might have been better off dead than reduced to this.

      Knock, knock, knock.

      Was he mistaken or had somebody just knocked on the door?

      He said to himself that the first hypothesis was more likely, because nobody ever visited him. Only Mrs Pina, the one who offered him breakfast in the morning ,and in the evening, unbeknownst to her husband, brought him an ashtray full of cigarette butts, so that he could finish them, smoking the small amount of tobacco that was left. The gossipers in the building were even saying that they were having an affair.

      Please! Although he was in a really bad state, he was not desperate to the point of having it sucked by an old hag.

      Giuliano looked at the cheap wall clock. Almost 11pm.

      Pina had already come at 9pm. It couldn’t be her again. He must have been mistaken, he must have misheard.

      In that moment he heard another knock on the door and realised that it was not a mistake.

      â€œCome in,” he said without much confidence. After all he wasn’t accustomed to receiving guests. “It’s open!”

      He stood for a long minute staring at a door that had no intention of being opened. Then, exactly when he was taking the last sip from his cut-price supermarket beer – a present from the same Pina – three knocks, stronger and clearer than the previous ones, were heard.

      He put the beer can on the coffee table. Supporting himself with his good arm, he stood up on his leg. He didn’t feel like bending to pick up his crutches, so, bracing himself against anything he could find, he started hopping on one foot until he reached the door.

      â€œI said it’s open!” he said sharply, opening the door wide.

      The landing was dark and empty. He frowned. It was obvious that the alcohol and his melancholy had played a trick on him.

      He shook his head and closed the door. Then, hopping on one foot he turned around and leaned against a small cabinet to regain his balance.

      The man in the raincoat was a lot faster than him and attacked, banging him against the wall. Blind with pain caused by his arm bent violently behind his back, Giuliani almost didn’t feel the light sting, as if a needle were entering his forearm.

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