Esoteric Crimes. Stefano Vignaroli

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СКАЧАТЬ men had been chosen among the most valid in force in the State Police of the Marche's various provinces. Each man was linked with a dog, as his handler. The men had to be not only experts in the same specialty as the animal but that they had to have the patience to train and take care of their dogs as if the latter were a child or part of them. I had some doubts about offering Inspector Santinelli to be my deputy. Usually, there is some difficulty in accepting to be subordinate to a person of which one was superior but he had accepted willingly, either for his passion for dogs or perhaps for a passion for me too, that I would never share back.

      At the beginning of the summer of 1997, we were finally ready to begin. The inauguration of the detachment took place in the presence of important authorities, among whom there were the Prefect, the Mayors of Ancona and Falconara Marittima, and officials from the Ministry of the Interior. At the end of our demonstration of the work with the dogs, in simulated drug and explosives research and actions aimed at blocking criminals, the day ended with a performance by the Frecce Tricolori. To my great regret, the only sad note of the day was that I learned that that was the last public event that commissioner Ianniello would attend, as he was close to retirement.

      In short, even at 26 years of age, I had a position of responsibility and great satisfaction. Stefano’s support, both as the doctor of our dogs and as a friend, has never failed. All the dogs chosen worked very well. Only concerning the Rottweiler, I did regret the choice.

      «To keep the crowd in check,» Stefano had warned me, «you need dogs that make a scene, they need to inspire fear in those in front of them, whether they are the fans at the stadium or the demonstrators in a square. But dogs must never hurt people. The Rottweiler is a traitor. He looks like a good-natured, he’s there good and seated looking at you, he doesn’t seem to even care about you. But once you get within his range, without even warning you with a snarl, he is capable of tearing you alive. The strength of his jaw is superior to that of any other breed. Measured with the dynamometer, the force of its bite reaches 230 kg, against German Sheperd's 80 kg and Neapolitan Mastiff's 120 kg. He is basically a war machine. Never trust him!»

      To my regret, after Thor, that was his name, had made himself responsible for a bad training joke against his conductor, it had been necessary to reform him. Usually, a dog is reformed at the end of his career, when he is too old to perform his duties and, in most cases, the handler, who by the time has developed a particular relationship with the dog, adopts it and keeps it close, considering that the animal has just a few years of life. If this does not happen, the reformed dog must be euthanized, because it is unthinkable for dogs trained like this to end up in the hands of untrusted people. I was aware that the end of Thor would be a lethal injection, and I could not give myself peace, but I looked at his handler, with his arm still bandaged, and I could not take responsibility for something like this happening again. Thor was soon replaced by another German Shepherd, this time chosen by me at a local farm. I raised him since he was a puppy, and I trained him up until the moment of assigning him to a conductor.

      Aside from Thor’s unpleasant episode, the days went by fast. Every day the team was engaged in training for at least two or three hours, then there were the services, the drug control at the airport customs, the services during fairs and markets looking for possible pickpockets or drug dealers. Sometimes we were also called to distant places, for civil protection interventions, after earthquakes or other natural disasters, to recover any survivors from under the rubble, or to search for missing people in the mountains, not just after mudslides or avalanches, but just because maybe they got lost during an excursion. The fame of my team, over time, went beyond the Marche borders, and we were often called for services far away from our base. The team lacked a dog that could sniff a trail, follow one, and in short, help the policeman in an investigation, as well as in an action. It would arrive later, and it would have been my Furia, a Springer Spaniel, puppy of a dog of Inspector Santinelli.

      The flow of my thoughts was, at that point, definitively interrupted by the braking of the plane on the runway and the consequent opening of the hold doors. A whole new chapter of my life was about to begin.

Chapter 2

      I was trying to orient me in the arrivals lounge at the airport in order to understand where the conveyer belt on which my luggage would arrive was when a madman in perfect State Police summer uniform approached decisively. He was about one meter and ninety high, with a stubble haircut, blue eyes, and perfectly trimmed beard. His biceps were hardly contained by the uniform shirt’s half sleeve. He was about to make me the military salute but then rethought that and held out his hand instead.

      «Doctor Ruggeri, I presume! I’m inspector Mauro Giampieri and from this moment I’ll be at your disposal. I have compulsory orders from the police commissioner, we need to get going right away to reach a crime scene. It is a crime that happened last night in Triora, a small village in Imperia’s inland. I already instructed an agent to collect your luggage and to take it to the police district. Follow me, we have no time to waste.»

      I was a bit confused, and I followed him without any objection, even though I would have preferred to start everything in a different way, by taking a taxi to Imperia and settling in my new job after having at least refreshed myself in a hotel. When I saw the white and blue State Police car we were approaching in the parking lot reserved for the police, I could not help feeling a thrill: a brand new Gallardo Lamborghini. I knew about the existence of that marvelous car, that could reach 320 km per hour, equipped with an on-board computer with various functionalities, connected through a satellite system to the computer archives of the Criminalpol and Interpol, only because I’ve read something in the magazines.

      «I thought this gem was reserved for the highway. Patrol,» I said, trying to break the ice with the Inspector, who kept his firm pace. As we closed to the car the hazard lights flashed, beeping.

      «This car is different from the one at the disposal of the traffic police, what changes is not the model, but the equipment and performance. I’ll be able to explain some things along the way, take a seat!»

      In the car, he inserted a card into a designated slot on the dashboard and entered a code on a numeric keypad. He was about to press the button to start the engine but stopped himself and started tinkering with a package.

      «Your right forearm, Doctor! I’m going to insert you a microchip, containing some information about you, such as biodata, blood type, medication history, but it will also function as a satellite locator if needed. It will take a split second, and you won’t feel any pain. These are the orders, unfortunately. I’ve got one inserted too.»

      His pseudo-military discipline was starting to get on my nerves and I was about to object.

      «I’m not a dog that risks getting lost!»

      With swift movements, he opened a sterilized bag containing a swab soaked in disinfectant, and then, from another one, he extracted an injector with a huge needle. Despite my protests, he grabbed my arm and carried out the procedure.

      «Keep the pad pressed for a few moments and fasten your seat belt. We’re heading off.»

      The speeding glued my back to the car seat. In just a few seconds the Lamborghini reached a speed well above the limit. He swiftly passed the toll gate and started driving at about 200 km per hour.

      «You, Inspector, look a lot more like a soldier than a policeman. I do not know your CV, but I think I will study it with great attention. Anyway, since we have to work together and I’ve always hated formalities, I’d suggest getting on first name terms. I am Caterina.»

      He answered, warming up a little.

      «Mauro. I confess to you, Doctor...Caterina that in fact, until a few months ago, I was in the army. I followed the СКАЧАТЬ