Death in Springtime Read Online Free PDF Page A

observe the victim and the family.'
    'And what do we know about the family?'
    'Nothing as yet, as I'm sure you've realized. We need the information the injured girl can give us when she comes round. The surname, and the message she was to telephone—it's very abnormal indeed for any personal message from the victim to be sent so soon. There's usually just a ransom demand and then a longish gap to put the parents in a panic.'
    'And we don't seem to have any parents.'
    'Exactly. What's really worrying me is that we may be dealing with amateurs.'
    'Worries you? Surely that would make your job easier?'
    'If you mean we'll catch them, yes it will, but it will also, almost certainly, mean the girl's death. Amateurs are incompetent, and then they panic. Professionals are well organized, never seen by their victims, and they don't kill. It's bad for business. If people weren't sure of getting the victim for their money they wouldn't be so willing to pay up. With amateurs there's no point in paying, they're likely to kill the victim off anyway, out of fear. I'd rather deal with professionals.'
    'But how can you get panic-stricken parents to understand the difference and cooperate with you?'
    'It's my job,' said the Captain quietly.
    The Substitute looked at him closely. There was no doubt that the Captain radiated calm and confident seriousness. The parents would cooperate all right, so long as nobody else interfered. The Substitute made up his mind that nobody would be allowed to interfere.
    'Do you think the family might be here on holiday?'
    'It's possible. Especially if they have a villa and come every year. If it's a professional job they will have been observed over a long period and their habits and financial status will be known.'
    'Ah . . .!' This exclamation was directed not at the Captain but at the aromatic roast loin of pork that was steaming towards them, propelled by Cesare.
    'Serve the Captain first—and don't give me any, you know it's bad for me, not more than a taste, one slice— that's enough! How anyone can eat all this stuff at lunchtime I'll never know!'
    When Captain Maestrangelo got back to his office he realized he had eaten far too much too quickly in an effort to keep up with the Substitute. The latter had vanished as punctually as he had appeared. 'Due in court at two-thirty— have to run—Cesare! call me a taxi! I'll give you a lift back. You will telephone me if there's any news? Here . . . between eight and eight-thirty at this number.'
    Watching the traffic and the rain swallow up the departing taxi, the Captain wondered how the man stayed so thin if he ate that way every day. Must take a lot of exercise, was his conclusion, and he turned his mind to more important matters. On his desk there was a message from the Sub-lieutenant at the hospital. The girl had not regained consciousness and she had a very high fever. He would stay on through the night although the local doctor had said it was probably useless.
    By three-thirty it was raining so pitilessly that the sky had turned black and all the street lights were on. The helicopter pilots reported in by radio. They were coming in. They could see absolutely nothing and were wasting time and fuel. The dog-handlers struggled on for another hour but then they, too, gave up. The Alsatians, their thick pelts soaked and steaming, had sniffed with some certainty around a little icon of the Virgin which stood by the roadside, sheltered from the rain by a stone arch, but after that they had rambled unhappily this way and that and returned whining to their handlers, who were knee-deep in mud, soaked to the skin and cursing roundly.
    The Captain waited, dealing patiently with the routine paperwork with which he was constantly burdened, and diplomatically with an influential gentleman who wanted an impossible favour to do with the son's military service.
    The patrols searching the first group of farms around the village of Pontino were the only ones to bring