you’re right,’ said the magistrate. ‘I’m just thinking out loud. Old Megale is in his eighties, and maybe he’s wondering who should succeed him. Then again, maybe not. Is his adopted son the appointed heir and successor? Somewhere off to the side, above or below Tony and not so easy to place in the hierarchy, is Agazio Curmaci.’
‘They sound like the sort of people who want to kill each other,’ said Blume.
‘Tony Megale and Agazio Curmaci have known each other since for ever, long before Curmaci went to Germany. Perhaps they are close friends. We cannot tell from the outside. And if anyone has reason to be bitter about being overlooked by Old Megale, it is Pietro, who is not only the first-born son, but, probably, Old Megale’s only real child. It seems Megale decided a long time ago that Pietro was not up to the job.’
‘Where’s this Pietro?’
Arconti, as if he had been waiting for this question, pulled out a black-and-white photo that looked like it had been taken in the late nineteenth century. ‘That’s him.’
Blume looked at the photo, and handed it back. ‘Is he normal? He doesn’t seem to have full control over his facial muscles.’
‘He’s borderline retarded. He’s still in Calabria. He and his wife look after Tony Megale’s son, a kid named Enrico. They have no children of their own.’
‘If they look after Tony’s kid, then there can’t be too much envy between Tony and Pietro, no? Agazio Curmaci, on the other hand, sounds like a usurper.’
‘It’s hard to tell. Pietro and his wife live practically next door to Curmaci’s wife and children. Tony’s son and Curmaci’s son are the same age, go to the same school. Yet in Germany the fathers operate in two different spheres. Tony Megale’s line of business is criminal, Curmaci moves in very legitimate circles. He’s not going to be pleased at having his name linked, however indirectly, to those two we captured.’
‘We caught them fair and square, without any tip-offs,’ said Blume. ‘I don’t see how Tony Megale could have planned that to undermine Curmaci.’
‘I agree,’ said the magistrate. ‘Also, it’s the sort of ploy Curmaci might use against Tony, not vice versa. Curmaci is subtler. It’s just that I can’t be sure we really were the architects of that operation. If the doctor had not committed “suicide” and if the death had not been very suspicious, the operation would not have begun. We would not have found the connection leading to the Cuzzocrea brothers, who led us to Curmaci’s wife, who led us to Curmaci. All this time I have had a sensation of being led by the nose.’
‘By Curmaci towards Curmaci,’ said Blume. ‘It doesn’t really add up.’
Arconti pushed himself away from his chaotic desk. ‘You’re right. I’ve passed everything into the expert hands of the anti-Mafia magistrates and the DIA. They’re better equipped than us to deal with these things. Unless, of course, you think you would be suited to that line of work.’
‘My speciality is unorganized crime,’ said Blume. ‘It’s a bit late now to question my career choice.’
‘It’s never too late for that,’ said Arconti. ‘And you’re still young.’
‘Only compared to you,’ said Blume.
‘See, that’s simply not polite. True, but not polite. I have heard people complain about your bluntness, Commissioner. But if you’re interested, I know someone.’
‘Interested in what?’ asked Blume.
‘A change of scenery. A new departure in your career,’ said Arconti.
‘Have you been talking about me to someone?’
‘Yes, and that someone has been looking at you and your strange past. He tells me you had American parents. I was wondering about your name.’
‘Did he tell you anything else?’
‘Not really. Interested?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Blume. He had once entertained ideas of joining the DIA, but like a lot of other things in life, it had not worked out. Until a few years ago,
‘They sound like the sort of people who want to kill each other,’ said Blume.
‘Tony Megale and Agazio Curmaci have known each other since for ever, long before Curmaci went to Germany. Perhaps they are close friends. We cannot tell from the outside. And if anyone has reason to be bitter about being overlooked by Old Megale, it is Pietro, who is not only the first-born son, but, probably, Old Megale’s only real child. It seems Megale decided a long time ago that Pietro was not up to the job.’
‘Where’s this Pietro?’
Arconti, as if he had been waiting for this question, pulled out a black-and-white photo that looked like it had been taken in the late nineteenth century. ‘That’s him.’
Blume looked at the photo, and handed it back. ‘Is he normal? He doesn’t seem to have full control over his facial muscles.’
‘He’s borderline retarded. He’s still in Calabria. He and his wife look after Tony Megale’s son, a kid named Enrico. They have no children of their own.’
‘If they look after Tony’s kid, then there can’t be too much envy between Tony and Pietro, no? Agazio Curmaci, on the other hand, sounds like a usurper.’
‘It’s hard to tell. Pietro and his wife live practically next door to Curmaci’s wife and children. Tony’s son and Curmaci’s son are the same age, go to the same school. Yet in Germany the fathers operate in two different spheres. Tony Megale’s line of business is criminal, Curmaci moves in very legitimate circles. He’s not going to be pleased at having his name linked, however indirectly, to those two we captured.’
‘We caught them fair and square, without any tip-offs,’ said Blume. ‘I don’t see how Tony Megale could have planned that to undermine Curmaci.’
‘I agree,’ said the magistrate. ‘Also, it’s the sort of ploy Curmaci might use against Tony, not vice versa. Curmaci is subtler. It’s just that I can’t be sure we really were the architects of that operation. If the doctor had not committed “suicide” and if the death had not been very suspicious, the operation would not have begun. We would not have found the connection leading to the Cuzzocrea brothers, who led us to Curmaci’s wife, who led us to Curmaci. All this time I have had a sensation of being led by the nose.’
‘By Curmaci towards Curmaci,’ said Blume. ‘It doesn’t really add up.’
Arconti pushed himself away from his chaotic desk. ‘You’re right. I’ve passed everything into the expert hands of the anti-Mafia magistrates and the DIA. They’re better equipped than us to deal with these things. Unless, of course, you think you would be suited to that line of work.’
‘My speciality is unorganized crime,’ said Blume. ‘It’s a bit late now to question my career choice.’
‘It’s never too late for that,’ said Arconti. ‘And you’re still young.’
‘Only compared to you,’ said Blume.
‘See, that’s simply not polite. True, but not polite. I have heard people complain about your bluntness, Commissioner. But if you’re interested, I know someone.’
‘Interested in what?’ asked Blume.
‘A change of scenery. A new departure in your career,’ said Arconti.
‘Have you been talking about me to someone?’
‘Yes, and that someone has been looking at you and your strange past. He tells me you had American parents. I was wondering about your name.’
‘Did he tell you anything else?’
‘Not really. Interested?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Blume. He had once entertained ideas of joining the DIA, but like a lot of other things in life, it had not worked out. Until a few years ago,
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