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A pencilled love: Police Heart I
A pencilled love: Police Heart I
A pencilled love: Police Heart I
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A pencilled love: Police Heart I

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Marco Feltri is a Police Inspector in a provincial town.   He is soon to be married to Sabrina, a very ambitious lawyer and is a life-long friend of Hego, head of the local gypsy community.   Their existence is shaken by the arrival of the new Chief Constable, Alessia Costantini, who is interested in a traffic of stolen cars, that Marco believes will conduct his colleagues to the gypsy camp.    During the last week before his wedding, there is nothing else he can do but try to get by, as best he can, between the preparations for the ceremony, Hego’s various schemes and the pressure put on him by a sprightly ninety-year old, worried about the investigation being carried out by Marco concerning a theft, of which she is victim. Continuously at the mercy of a reckless attraction for Costantini, his colleague, Franco, an expert reader of Tarot cards, tells him that his future is in the shadow of a dangerous Arcana:  The Tower.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherbookEco Media
Release dateMay 30, 2018
ISBN9788899561253
A pencilled love: Police Heart I

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    A pencilled love - Cristina Lattaro

    A pencilled love

    Title: A pencilled love

    Author: Cristina Lattaro

    Translator: Frances Duffy

    This novel is a work of fantasy: names, characters, places and events are the product of the immagination of the author or are used for fiction. Any resemblance to real events and/or to real persons or places is purely  coincidental.

    All the rights of translation, reproduction an adaption, total or partial, by any mean, even photocopies and microfilm, are reserved.

    © 2018 bookEco

    www.bookeco.eu  info@bookeco.eu

     ISBN: 9788899561253

    RESERVED LITTERARY PROPERTY

    Copyright 2018 bookEco

    Printed on behalf of bookEco in May 2018

    Cristina Lattaro

    A pencilled love

    Amarganta

    Monday

    Hego wants to tell me a load of nonsense.

    I’ll take care of everything, it’s not a problem he says with that cheeky, opportunist smile of his.

    Really? Chief Constable Costantini is catching up with you. Take note, she wears Sea Rem, so if you can smell an odour of lime, make a run for it or you’ll end up in handcuffs" I reply angrily.

    To make my retreat more heroic I glance at the tin huts in the camp. I linger and look at a pile of abandoned car tyres and then at the washing lines which run along behind me, tightly pulled between trees and damaged drainpipes. A gang of children are playing on their rusty bicycles and I make my way around them. One brushes against me and turns around looking pleased with himself. The child has the eyes of his grandfather, who was the leader before Hego, and it seems he has also inherited his grandfather’s agility. I made an unmistakable gesture to indicate that if he touched me again I would transform him into a surface-to-air missile. Following my reproach Juayo starts to bark, I gaze at him and the fox-like Pomeranian dog stares back. Turning around I say to Hego

    If they put you in prison, I’ll take Juayo.

    Over my dead body Hego responds bitterly.

    It’s a question of hours, not even days. You’ll find yourself with ten squad cars at the entrance and then it’s goodbye to your illegal workshop and your kingdom. Next time I’ll pay you a visit in jail.

    Hego shakes his head arrogantly and between his thin lips three black gaps can be seen. The pupils of his eyes are emerald, difficult to read in depth even for me and particularly now.

    He is capable of generous outbursts, but also knows how to be ruthless. Up until now he has only reacted out of revenge or for self-defence. I shouldn’t protect him, I am a Police Inspector, but when I was in middle school he saved me from a beating by a bully, Ugo Crognato, a useless school kid, who lived in the council houses in a rough area of town.

    Hego was a different kettle of fish, he didn’t lay his fingers on him, but pulled out a flick knife from his jeans pocket and said 

    If you try that again, I’ll cut you into two. He didn’t have to repeat this warning, no-one ever pestered me again, not even to call me four-eyes. Now I wear contact lenses and have grown into a good-looking guy, but before I resembled a frog with two coke bottle glasses sitting on my nose and I had no self-confidence.

    During our teenager years, Hego was an annoying presence for us of the Angelo Maria Ricci district, even though he minded his own business. He became head of Rieti gypsy camp at the age of 27. We ended up being friends after often finding ourselves side by side on the banks of the stream that ran along the back of the school. We carelessly threw our fishing lines and never caught anything. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then and we frequented all the lakes and rivers in the area. Hego has greater instinct than me but he doesn’t persevere, while I am methodical and organised, so in the long run we end up equal. Since then I have developed effective ways of hiding this awkward relationship. I have always kept it separate from my everyday life and Hego has done the same. Nobody has ever suspected anything. When on duty I have maintained a perfectly formal stance with the gypsy community but I have also been fortunate because I have had colleague’s less shrewd than my mother - to succeed in hiding anything from her for long was equivalent to a degree in Mathematics.

    Hego only stole from the rich and I have always closed an eye and ignored his activities, as my position permitted me to do so, and because I realise a certain life-style is a question of inheritance and not always a personal choice. I am not an idealist and I know the rules of the world but before I met Hego I was a loser. He brought me luck - after I met him everything started to go smoothly and I am going to marry an exceptional girl in the near future. However, three days ago a new chief arrived and the stability of things has changed. Hego no longer has a choice and the illegal workshop, which I have never seen, must disappear . I know there is one because, here at the camp, there have always been cars without number plates, complete car engines and scooter spare parts. Alessia Costantini arrived unexpectedly - the Police Commissioner, Fausto Grillotti, nominated her to lead the Flying Squad from one day to the next - transferred from Florence Police Headquarters where she had been promoted. Her predecessor, Chief Constable Pisani, retired in unison with the nomination of his female replacement.

    Costantini's office is on the top floor of the building, where a metal door separates her from the Inspectors' room which I share with Luigi Capaci and Mauro Desideri. I have studied her as much as possible - she doesn't speak unless she has questions to ask and I don't believe she will change her attitude even after she knows the team better. When I have had the chance I have observed her in the office and caught her gazing at what she could see of the world from a tall window overlooking a suburban street. She doesn't stare at anything in particular but looks as if her mind is somewhere else because when she turns around she still has that far away look.

    Yesterday evening Chief Constable Costantini began to lay her cards on the table. Starting with Capaci she then stared at me, and Desideri in turn. Our desks are lined up one behind the other and we sit with our backs turned to a wall full of flags, emblems and framed photos of important statesmen, four former Presidents of the Republic and the current one. Desideri collects these gadgets, as he calls them. He has crammed his house full and considers the office walls as his personal territory to invade with images of people buried with the Italian flag on their coffin.

    You see those? You must slog away as if your life depends on it she said pointing at a collection of reports in grey box files. We have always crammed them on the bookshelf between a cupboard and the window which overlooks the courtyard, but suddenly their presence is irritating.

    You must cancel all the pending suits, every one. When I arrived at the Florence Flying Squad, together with a couple of other recruits fresh out of training school, the Chief Constable immediately made it clear what our duties were. She continued in this tone of voice before turning to Capaci.

    Inspector, please, take off your watch. She waited until Capaci did as he was told before continuing.

    Put it in the drawer and leave it there if you wish to remain in this Squad.

    Capaci is the oldest inspector and has the gift of the gab. When he moistened his lips we realised he would answer back. I was the latest arrival, having been, up until 18 months ago, in the crime prevention and public assistance office. In other words, I was on duty in a police patrol car. Well, I am not new to this job, but all the same I couldn't think of anything to say.

    The majority of those cases only need filing stressed Capaci glaring at his superior under the conviction that his white hair gave him the right to respond even to the Chief Constable in person. Unless you want to go on a mystical trip into the unknown.

    Talking of mystical Inspector? Think how interesting it would be not to stop at the initial appearance of words and facts but to look further sometimes. Challenges should be faced and every complaint we deal with is a challenge which we do our best to overcome.

    Capaci remained dumbfounded, motionless behind his desk full of papers, because if anyone, he is the only one among us who now and again opens the old files, makes suppositions and interrogates left, right and centre, inspired by new clues gathered here and there.

     I try not to smile; I seemed to hear my old partner, Franco Nobili, who, when inspired, consulted the Tarot cards he kept in the dashboard of Francis, his Alfa Romeo 159 2.4 Jtdm. Before starting the tour of his area of jurisdiction, Franco would lay the cards out on the back seat of the police car and study them. He was head of the squad and the officer with the most experience but, depending upon the prediction, he would give advice, at least that is what he claimed to us and even our supervisor.

    You need to plan a wide range of raids and inspections on the basis of precise investigations the Chief concluded. I looked at her holding her breath while waiting for Capaci to finish. She is a robust woman and her good legs could be seen below the skirt of her uniform. She has delicate features which her proud expression transforms to make her resemble an old maid.

    She appeared like a person who is never ill and extremely physically fit. I agreed with the general opinion expressed in the Police Headquarters as soon as she set foot here, no-one will have a go at her.

    Chief Constable Costantini can't wait to take the situation in hand and to get us off our backsides, but is taking her time because she still has to understand everything. She is brand new to the job and doesn't have full control of the situation, but it is evident that this lull will not last long and that she will soon be giving her first true operative orders.

    My matrimonial leave permit has been blessed, which gives me fifteen days’ official leave. In the application form I also requested an extra two weeks of holiday as of next Monday, 31st March, the day when I will go to the Town Hall and take Sabrina as my wife in a civil ceremony. She is the right one, I love her and I would shout it out to the whole world.

    As soon as Costantini took office she signed the documents without batting an eyelid and I admire her for that. I have always hated superiors who make you feel guilty about the slightest request, especially when it is your right. This doesn't mean that during the talk my sixth sense didn't notice something strange, so I sneakily slipped into the boss's office during lunchtime today. To open the door was child's play - I've had a good teacher, the best, a gypsy. To check what Costantini was doing on her own was the minimum required. Well, I have never been top of the class but for a peaceful life I need to understand how the forces are deployed. This philosophy saved my arse many times before the incident when Hego pulled out his knife to calm down the bully.

    I found out that the boss is looking into the thefts of vehicles in the Latium region. She is also keeping an eye on the list of reports of suspected cars on the Salaria Road, which connects Rieti to Rome. She has gone to the trouble of printing and collecting a lot of information and has underlined some key phrases using a multicolour technique which probably required a whole packet of highlighter pens. Next to the lamp on her desk there is a page full of statics. The Chief Constable has marked the percentages in bright orange, Hego's favourite colour. I thought of him immediately and realised that he had little time left It seemed obvious to me that, after having put a few more pieces together, gained confidence in the situation and with the local forces, Costantini would order a raid of the gypsy camp. I would be on my honeymoon, a long way away from the scene and from Hego's problems. In the afternoon I decided to pop into the gypsy camp and found Hego facing me with his light-hearted smile. He thought it unbelievable that he could end up in prison and my warning amused him.

    Hey, come on... in jail, you're kidding! There's no way, I wonder how much Juayo will miss me! Not like you, Juayo never pines for you he comments winking. I look at the Volpino again who is contentedly wagging his tail and I know that my presence makes him happy, without doubt.

    Marco! I hear someone whisper from behind me. I turn around and as I was standing near the kitchen window, I see Samara, Hego's sister. If I could, I would take her away to live in what I consider a better place but which, for her, may not be so. Samara is wonderful with her long black hair, thin nose, sensual lips and eyes that seem like blazing coal. Just for the record, she is more beautiful than Sabrina but my girlfriend is on a different level and Samara has never awakened any feelings in me. Being an exceptional cook she could earn a good salary working in a restaurant but she scrapes together a bit of money by reading children's hands in the park. She has a certain reputation and doesn't bother anyone and, in fact, they are the ones to approach her with their hand out to have their future revealed for 10 Euros. She read mine when I was 18 years old and she was 13. I think she started to have a crush on

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