Читать книгу Death Brings Gold - Nicola Rocca - Страница 25

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.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Chief,” he said to him.

“No problem,” Walker replied, defensively, “I was studying these damned symbols,” he continued, waving the paper in front of him.

“Ah!” exclaimed Bassani. “It’s a big headache.”

“It is,” confirmed the Inspector.

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

“What’s the matter, detective?” he asked him.

The man waited for an eternity before answering.

“What’s got into you?” Walker pressed him again.

Bassani stroked his moustache.

“We must return to Ghezzi’s house,” he stated, serious.

“To Ghezzi’s?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“But why?” asked Walker.

“Do you remember when someone said they’d heard the noise of something falling on the floor? A metallic sound…”

“It was a butto…” Walker didn’t finish his sentence. “Are you trying to say that…?”

“Yes,” admitted the detective. “If we’re lucky, we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

“You’re a genius, Bassani.”