tell me: it’s what this missing star of yours would have wanted.”
“Precisely. Imagine. All these people can go tell their friends tomorrow they still got to the premiere, even after all this mess. This is the world I live in, friend. It’s about status and money and one-upmanship. Inferno is the biggest release of this summer, worldwide. They get to say they saw it first. We get to keep our backers happy. You escape the phone calls from on high. Please.”
“This is a police investigation—”
“No, it’s not,” Harvey interrupted. “Let’s speak frankly. I oversaw those security arrangements. By rights, this belongs to the Carabinieri. Not you. All you guys had to look after was the stuff.”
“The stuff,” Peroni repeated.
“No fun doing the menial work while others get to stand in the spotlight, is it?” The American smiled. “I forget your name, Officer.”
“Gianni Peroni,” he answered. “Like the beer.”
Harvey stuck out his hand. Peroni took it.
“Simon Harvey. Like the sherry. Here’s the deal. You let this little show go on tonight. I’ll do what I can to ensure this investigation comes your way. The Carabinieri won’t argue. Not until they’ve phoned home, and by then you and your friends will be away with the goods.”
Peroni thought about this. Harvey had no idea how these matters worked. The probability was that the Carabinieri would get the investigation in any case, however hard Falcone tried to steal the job. The men from the military had been given cast and crew security from the beginning. Murder or no murder, this was their call.
“Why would you want to give me a deal like that?”
The American nodded in the direction of the dark blue uniforms. “Because I’ve had a bellyful of those stuck-up bastards for the past few months and they won’t cut me a deal on anything. Is that good enough?”
Peroni discreetly eyed the opposition. Some boss figure had emerged and was now bravely taking on the police forensic team, not even blinking at Teresa’s increasingly desperate attempts to shout him down. There was strength in numbers, particularly when it came backed up by medals and rank. It was definitely time to leave.
“You must have seen that film a million times,” Peroni observed.
“A million times is not enough,” Harvey replied. “Roberto Tonti’s a genius. I’d watch it a million times more if I could. Inferno is the finest piece of cinema I’ve ever worked on. I doubt I’ll ever have the privilege to get my name attached to anything better. What’s your point?”
“My point, Signor Harvey, is I’m willing to let you have your little show. Provided you can help us get out of here the moment my colleagues are ready.”
“It’s done,” Harvey said immediately. “You have my word.”
“And I want someone to come along with us. Someone from the studio. Bonetti, Tonti …”
The man waved his hand in front of Peroni’s face. “Don’t even think about it. They don’t do menial.”
“In that case, you. Seen inside many police stations?”
Harvey’s pleasant demeanour failed him for a moment. “Can’t say I have. Is this relevant?”
“Not at all.”
“Then what am I supposed to talk about? Dante? I’ve got a degree in classics.” Harvey caught Peroni’s eye and nodded at the fake severed head. “That … thing. It’s about Dante, you know. The line they wrote on the skull … ‘Abandon all hope, you who enter here.’ ”
Teresa had what she wanted. He could see the boxes and bags ready to go. The pathologist took a break from bawling out an entire line of Carabinieri officers to issue a sly nod in his direction.
Harvey wriggled, a little nervous. “You know something, Officer Peroni? We’ve been getting strange anonymous e-mails. For months. It happens a lot when you’re making a movie. I never thought too much about it.”
“Strange?”
“They quoted that line, always. And they said …” Harvey tugged at his long hair. “… they said we were living in limbo. I never took it literally.”
“What do you mean?”
The American grimaced. “I mean literally. The way it appears in Dante.” He sighed. “Limbo is the first circle of Hell. The place the story begins.”
Just the mention of the film revived some memories Gianni Peroni hoped had been lost. Things seemed to be happening from the very opening moment in Tonti’s version of the tale. Not good things either.
“And then?” Peroni asked. “After limbo?”
“Then you’re on the road to Hell.”
3
THE DOOR TO ALLAN PRIME’S APARTMENT opened almost the moment Falcone pushed the bell. Nic Costa felt as if he’d stumbled back