Death Brings Gold. Nicola Rocca
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Название: Death Brings Gold

Автор: Nicola Rocca

Издательство: Tektime S.r.l.s.

Жанр: Триллеры

Серия:

isbn: 9788873042716

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      â€œOh, yes. Now I remember,” Bassani said, annoyed over the bad impression he was making.

      Then Fini continued talking, but Walker had stopped listening to him. His brain was now following other trajectories.

      When the Inspector came back to earth, he did it with a tone of voice that froze everyone present.

      â€œGlue!” he shouted. Everything was clear to him now.

      Fini and Bassani looked at him dumbfounded. So did the others.

      â€œDon’t move!” Walker ordered to the Forensic agents, who had just closed the bag, after the Public Prosecutor had given them permission with a nod of his head.

      Without waiting for anyone to ask for explanations, Walker moved closer, but an agent of the Forensic team tried to stop him, catching the attention of the Public Prosecutor.

      â€œLet him go,” Fini said firmly, “Inspector Walker knows what he’s doing.”

      David smiled at him, pleased. Then, regaining his serious look, he made sure that the gloves he had taken earlier were still intact. As a precaution he took them off, pulled a new pair from the box, and put them on.

      The body bag opened with the metallic sound of its zip.

      Trying to ignore the pressure of everyone’s eyes on him, Walker’s hands disappeared inside the bag.

      Anyone who had seen his arms fussing around inside that bag would have thought that he was playing with the dead person’s face.

      Then, unexpectedly, Walker’s voice rang out. Tinged with triumph.

      â€œBingo!”

      Bassani took two steps towards him, trying to identify what Walker was holding in his hand. He thought he’d caught sight of something sparkling. He narrowed his eyes to slits and, when he was a few centimetres from the Inspector, he repeated his Chief’s exclamation.

      â€œBingo?”

      Walker opened his hand, showing Bassani what he had recovered from the mouth of the dead man.

      â€œYes, bingo!” he repeated satisfied. “Forget about the gold necktie. This is the killer’s true signature.”

      CHAPTER 18

      Walker was sitting in his car, still parked a few metres away from Giuliano Giuliani’s house.

      He had just ended a phone call with Visconti. He had told him about the new victim. There was more work for him, although, Walker was sure about it, nothing new was going to be revealed by the autopsy. The usual death caused by strangulation with a necktie and the usual lack of clues. The only difference was going to be the fact that Giuliani didn’t have bruises on his wrists, but only on one wrist and ankle.

      Anyway, he was looking forward to this new autopsy report, hoping for some news that would boost the investigation.

      Right now he had more important puzzles to solve.

      He thought again about the small tag found in Giuliani’s mouth. It was gold, he’d have bet on it. Its form resembled a circle – and at a guess, its diametre was not much more than a centimetre–, although its edges were quite irregular. Jagged. It almost looked gnawed by rats. It was approximately a couple of millimetres thick. He had never seen anything like it in his life. Also, there were those strange symbols engraved on one of its faces, and roughly polished.

      Tapping the fingers of his hand on the wheel, he was keeping his eyes fixed on the sheet of paper where he had copied, in large size, the symbols.

      The more he stared at them, the more he repeated to himself that it was all absurd.

      Four fucking lines. Two were parallel, a third one, always parallel but a bit off, and a final line that, compared to the others, was oblique. In his opinion, those lines were the signature left by the killer. The problem was twofold: how to read those lines and how to interpret them. He could have put them in many positions.

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      = / -

      Which was the right one? If there was a right one.

      Four lines, that at that moment meant nothing to David Walker. Almost nothing.

      The only thing he could think of was “equals divided by minus”. Or “equality division minus”. Or “minus divided by equals”. Anyway, mathematics seemed the only thread of the damned symbolism.

      Now, however, he couldn’t wait to arrive at Headquarters. He should have already sent two men to tail Merli, but with the flat tyre and the new dead body, he had lost time. One of the priorities, apart from studying those stupid symbols, was to keep an eye on Merli. He didn’t like that man at all.

      A knock on the window made him jump.

      He turned suddenly and recognised Bassani’s moustache.

      The detective, showing an amused smile, was signalling him to wind his window down.

      â€œI didn’t mean to startle you, Chief,” he said to him.

      â€œNo problem,” Walker replied, defensively, “I was studying these damned symbols,” he continued, waving the paper in front of him.

      â€œAh!” exclaimed Bassani. “It’s a big headache.”

      â€œIt is,” confirmed the Inspector.

      When Walker turned back to Bassani, he noticed the detective’s face was as dark as a cloudy night sky.

      â€œWhat’s the matter, detective?” he asked him.

      The man waited for an eternity before answering.

      â€œWhat’s got into you?” Walker pressed him again.

      Bassani stroked his moustache.

      â€œWe must return to Ghezzi’s house,” he stated, serious.

      â€œTo Ghezzi’s?”

      â€œYes, СКАЧАТЬ