A Quiet Provincial Town: The Mysteries Of Villa Brandi

By Stefano Vignaroli

A violent explosion during the inauguration party of Villa Brandi, an eighteenth-century villa restored thanks to the financial contribution from a well-known international football coach, causes four people to lose their life with a fifth seriously injured. Caterina Ruggeri, head of the local Homicide Division, who is present at the party with her partner and has escaped unhurt from the attack, will immediately take the reins of the investigation. Her work however is misled by obscure characters linked on one hand to the local Freemasonry and on the other to the Secret Services. Our detective will have to overcome many obstacles to arrive at the truth, which has its roots in the mists of time.

Police Commissioner Caterina Ruggeri is a sharp, smart and courageous woman. She is the mother of a beautiful little girl named Aurora and loves to spend the evenings in the company of Stefano, her constant companion. But under this façade of an ordinary woman hides an enterprising and adventurous heroine, always ready to take on new investigations. Like the one that sees her involved in a bombing attack during the inauguration party of Villa Brandi, an eighteenth-century residence in the Marche region purchased by a famous international football coach. It seems that the attack was masterfully carried out by a nameless and faceless enemy, and is the beginning of a new adventure, which will drag the unstoppable commissioner into an endless enigma, which has its roots even in the ancient Masonic Lodges. There will be many red herrings on the part of unsavory individuals linked to government secret services.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tektime
• Release date: Jul 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9788835440932

Book preview

LEGEND

1 – Piazza Federico II (Piazza San Floriano – Ex Acropolis or Forum)

2 – Palazzo Baldeschi-Balleani

3 – Porta Valle (Porta Pesa)

4 – Palazzo Battaglia

5 – Round Tower

6 – Porta Bersaglieri (Porta Nova or Porta Marina)

7 – Via Pergolesi (Via degli Orefici)

8 – Giardinetti delle Carceri

9 – Watchtower

10 – Construction site for the construction of the lift

11 – Costa di Montirozzo and Torrioncino

12 – Palazzo Pianetti II (former District Prison)

13 – Ancient Roman cistern

14 –San Floriano complex (Civic Museum and Experimental Theatre)

15 – Porta Garibaldi (Porta San Floriano)

16 –Regional Wine Cellar of the Marche

17 – Ancient Roman amphitheater area

18 – Palazzo del Governo (or della Signoria)

19 – Piazza A. Colocci

20 – Palace and Museum Fondazione Colocci

21 – Palazzo Carotti-Honorati (Court headquarters)

22 – Palazzo Mestica

23 – Piazza Baccio Pontelli

24 – Costa Mezzalancia (Ladders of Death)

25 – Arco del Magistrato (Porta della Rocca)

26 – Cathedral (San Settimio)

27 – Via delle Terme

28 – Piazza Indipendenza (Piazza delle scarpe)

29 – Piazza Spontini (Piazza del Soccorso)

30 – Piazza delle Monnighette

31 – Arco del Soccorso (Arco della Morte)

32 – South Tower

33 – Piazza Sansovino

34 – Old soap factory area (former Church of San Benedetto)

A-B – Cardo Massimo (Arco del Magistrato – Via Pergolesi - Piazza Federico II – Via delle Terme – Porta Bersaglieri)

C-D – Decumano Massimo (Porta Valle - Via Lucagnolo – Costa Lombarda – Piazza Federico II - Via del Fortino – Porta Garibaldi)

FORWARD

Police Commissioner Caterina Ruggeri is a quick-witted, brilliant and courageous woman. She is the mother of a beautiful little girl named Aurora and loves to spend the evenings in the company of Stefano, her constant companion. But under this façade of an ordinary woman hides an enterprising and adventurous heroine, always ready to take on new investigations. Like the one that sees her directly involved during the inauguration of Villa Brandi - an eighteenth-century residence in the Marche region, purchased by a famous international football coach - in a bombing attack masterfully carried out by a nameless and faceless enemy. It is the beginning of a new adventure, which will drag the irrepressible commissioner into an endless enigma, which even has its roots in the ancient Masonic Lodges.

With The Mysteries of Villa Brandi, Stefano Vignaroli writes a novel that, better than any other, traces the contours of a mysterious and fascinating Jesi. Colors, sounds, images and scents are condensed into a book that has the flavor of history and a tinge of the arcane.

From the third century B.C. to the present day, a breathtaking thriller that is full of emotions and memories. And when you have finished reading it, at the exact moment when you turn the last page, you cannot help but re-evaluate the charm of our country.

Filippo Munaro

PROLOGUE

August 2009

CATERINA…

The long weekend of Ferragosto¹ had passed quickly and on the morning of the 17th I found myself on the Ancona – Genoa flight again to return to my place of work, immersed in my thoughts once more. It had been lovely to spend two whole days with Stefano, making plans for the future, talking about ourselves and the child we were expecting and exchanging the affection we feel for each other. In the short time I had been in Liguria, my partner had changed his lifestyle, and I'm not talking about just his passion for music. He had left his room in the clinic to move to a farmhouse a few kilometers away. It was a wonderful place, immersed in the green hills of the Marche region. The house was cozy and tastefully decorated, in perfect rustic style. A fireplace, standing proudly in the living room, would warm the cold winter evenings. By passing through a large courtyard, ideal for spending summer days and evenings outdoors, you reached the stables where there were already two horses and a pony. A little further on were the kennels for the dogs, two of which were already occupied by a Great Dane and a Gordon Setter. The farmhouse bordered a small wood at the rear and cultivated fields on the other sides.

It's wonderful, I said to Stefano, while we were in the courtyard enjoying the colors of a beautiful sunset. Too bad I won't be able to enjoy this place with you for very long!

Oh, not necessarily. You could ask to be closer because of your pregnancy. And anyway, from the moment you start maternity leave, you’ll come here and there’s no way I’ll let you leave until our son has grown quite a bit. We’ll ride the two horses, but the pony is reserved for the little guy.

Or little girl! Why do you only talk about a boy?

Smiling and joking, Stefano took me by the hand, led me quickly to the stable, untied the horses, and without even saddling them, invited me to hop onto the mare, while he mounted the male. The horses were docile and it was easy to ride them even without saddle and harnesses. All this reminded me of the times when, as a young girl, I often competed with him to get the best horse in the stable we frequented, spurring the unfortunate animals along tracks and dirt roads, clinging to its mane. Great times! Of course, I would have loved to live my life there with Stefano, but how could I have been able to do that with my work? I loved my work too and I wouldn't have swapped it for anything in the world.

On Monday morning Stefano had accompanied me to the airport, staying close to me until the call for boarding. Saying goodbye was really hard, but duty called and, somewhat reluctantly, I got on the plane. Now that we were about to land, my emotions were giving way to the desire to return to work. All said and done, I liked being in Imperia and got on very well with my colleagues. I realized that the Precinct was a bit like a big family and I now felt like a good boss that everyone accepted, not because I imposed my will, but because I had the ability to coordinate that wonderful group of willing policemen, showing that I did my part when it was necessary. It was certainly true that, apart from the investigation into the killings in Triora, it was a rather quiet place. Of course, there was no lack of episodes of petty crime and considering the fact that police districts are chronically understaffed, we were all forced to do prolonged work shifts to cover the service adequately. I had been happy that Inspector Giampieri, faced with the choice of whether to stay in the precinct or return to work alongside the police commissioner, had chosen the first alternative without hesitation. I was now very fond of him, he was my deputy, I considered him my alter ego and it would have been difficult for me to have to do without him, also in consideration of the good chemistry that had been immediately established between the two of us.

This time neither he nor anyone else was waiting for me in the arrivals hall of Genoa airport, so I picked up my luggage and got a taxi to Imperia.

When I set foot inside the Precinct, I realized that there was an unusual hustle and bustle. There had been a brawl at the port during the night between foreign immigrants, and my colleagues had arrested some colored people who were making a terrible noise. I asked D'Aloia for explanations.

Almost all of them were drunk, Commissioner. They started arguing, I think it was for reasons related to their religion and when the discussion degenerated they started throwing empty bottles of beer. Someone got hit in the head and was medicated at Emergency. Now I’m about to take their statements, check their residence permits and kick them out of here as soon as possible.

Good luck, D'Aloia! I don't see that as being easy.

At six in the afternoon, when I left my room, Walter was in fact still dealing with some of them who, despite not having a residence permit in order, claimed that they worked for some construction companies, obviously off the books.

Commissioner, I don't know what to do. I should give them expulsion orders, but I feel sorry for them!

There would be a solution: they report the people who make them work illegally and we give them a temporary residence permit for up to three months. I smiled at D'Aloia, because I knew very well that not one of them would have the courage to file a complaint, perhaps putting other friends or relatives who worked for the same companies in difficulty, and I left the Precinct to head home. I was about to stop a taxi, when Mauro appeared behind me.

I have my own car and for today I'm done. I’m going to Ventimiglia to meet Anna, I think that I can make a detour to accompany you home and I won’t be too late.

I gladly accepted the ride and within a quarter of an hour I finally arrived home. Clara was in the garden playing with Fury and I noticed that as she greeted my colleague there was a lot of complicity. At the time I didn't pay much attention to the thing, after all we had spent a lot of time all together recently. And then I had other things on my mind.

One of the priorities I had in the next few days was to contact a gynecologist to follow me during pregnancy. Laura recommended a young doctor who worked in the Obstetrics department of the Imperia Hospital.

Dr. Valeri is always available and very easy going. The department here in Imperia is avantgarde and people prefer to be visited in the public structure rather than in external private clinics. You’re sure to be happy with that.

Laura's advice was excellent and, after a few days, I left the gynecologist's office with the first ultrasound images of the creature I was carrying in my womb and the list of an endless series of laboratory tests to be performed. The sex of the fetus was not yet certain, but the Doctor had given me a hint.

Eighty percent female, but I wouldn't swear by it yet.

The next ultrasound, about a month later, would confirm that she was a female and in my heart I decided that she would be called Aurora.

Being pregnant did not bother me and I was able to carry out all my commitments, both work and extra. Going towards autumn I had started to attend a gym to keep fit, and the instructor had proposed a personalized plan, also appropriate to the fact that I was pregnant.

In mid-October, in record time, the restoration of the Della Rosa house had been completed, and it was ready to welcome Clara as Director of the Esoteric Studies Foundation of Triora. I had supported Clara in those months and helped her develop her ideas. The girl was really smart and had a remarkable intelligence and wisdom. I think she listened to my advice more out of courtesy than because she needed it. She already knew the texts and manuscripts inside the witch's house, for having cataloged and arranged them at the time, even if much material was then lost in the fire at the dwelling. The pentacle hall would become a study center open to all those who wished to enrich their cultural baggage in the field of magic and esotericism, under the watchful guidance of the director and librarian Clara Giauni. Mauro was increasingly present to help our friend, especially for the heavy work such as setting up shelving, arranging furnishings and so on. The most delicate part, adapting the secret passages and the underground tunnels to a guided tourist tour, was in practice directed by Mauro, who seemed almost a real expert of the Superintendence of Fine Arts or Cultural Heritage. What amazed me the most, and worried me a little, was that instead I saw Anna more and more rarely beside him. I was already beginning to suspect something, when one day I surprised Mauro and Clara exchanging tender effusions. Caught off guard by my unexpected presence, Mauro mumbled something.

Don’t worry, Anna has known everything for a few days. We broke up as good friends.

Of course, that’s what they always say, but then you have to see how the person who has been abandoned is taking it, who usually feels an unfillable void inside, even though they try to pretend everything’s alright and not make the thing weigh on the other. So I phoned Anna and realized she was not taking it well.

I know I shouldn't get so upset, Caterina. Mauro and I have always lived our relationship in complete freedom and I have always considered it very normal that it could end at any moment, but now I feel bad. I’m not angry with him or Clara, of course, but I miss Mauro very much.

We decided to go to dinner together and it took me a lot of effort to console her and try to take the conversation to other topics. After dinner in a trattoria² in Sanremo, we decided to devote ourselves to total leisure, and went over the border into the principality of Monaco to spend the night at the casino in Montecarlo. I returned home at dawn, but that was the last madness I allowed myself, since the increase in the circumference of my waist suggested that I begin a phase of my existence that was quieter and more regulated.

In November Clara and Mauro moved permanently to the former Della Rosa house and I was left alone to share the farmhouse in the lower Argentina Valley with Furia. The inauguration of the Study Center, in the presence of important authorities in the middle of November, was a beautiful celebration. Casa Della Rosa shone with new life. The hall of the pentacle, restored, was wonderful, the fire had not ruined the marble of the floor at all and, polished, was spectacular. The mirror had been left open, so that the library full of ancient texts and manuscripts were visible. A long solid wood table had been placed in the large living room, available to scholars who wanted to consult the texts which were dispensed through a desk set up at the passage from the living room itself to the library, once bordered by the sliding mirror. It was still working, but the complicated opening mechanism had been replaced by a convenient remote control. The long table was at that moment set up for refreshments and, after the speeches of the Mayor, an Undersecretary of the Ministry of Cultural Heritage, Dr. Leone and Dr. Honoris Causa Clara Giauni, a catering company covered it with every delicacy known to man.

When, one by one, all the illustrious guests had left, I was left alone with Clara and Mauro. I was really happy to have been able to help that girl, not only had I saved her life, but now she had a future ahead of her, and it was not little. And she had also found a very good partner, albeit at the expense of another woman. And there was Anna looking in from the front door.

I came to give you my sincere congratulations, Clara, it's all wonderful and you deserved it.

She kissed both Clara and Mauro with affection, and I noticed that there was no shadow of resentment in her gestures, which were clearly sincere.

Thank goodness I said to myself, The storm may have passed. Or maybe Anna is very adept at hiding her true feelings!

Well, guys, I wish all of you well. Unfortunately in a few days I will be leaving you. I have already prepared the request for maternity leave and I really believe that I’ll be spending the last phase of my pregnancy in the Marche with to my partner. But even if we don't see each other, we'll keep in touch!

Mauro, Clara, and Anna all assured me that not a day would go by when we didn’t speak by phone, or perhaps with a simple SMS. I went home happy, full of that human warmth that I had rarely felt in my life. It would be hard to leave those places, wonderful in so many ways. I was convinced that in any case I would return there in a few months, not knowing then what life and destiny had in store for me.

When I entered Dr. Perugini's room to deliver the envelope containing my request for leave, I saw that the Police Commissioner in turn had a large envelope in his handwith my name written in block letters.

I knew that your contacts with the witches of Triora had endowed you with supernatural powers, but this is pure telepathy, my dear Commissioner. I was just about to call you here!

Good. You first or me first? I said, alternating my gaze from my envelope to his.

I believe that after you have read the contents of this, there will no longer be any need for you to present anything to me, requests for vacation, leave or anything else..., he said, handing me the sealed envelope, but judging by the complicit smile he had printed on his face, he knew the contents of it very well. I opened the envelope, which came from the Ministry of the Interior, and began to run my eyes over what was written.

Given the remarkable investigative skills, as well as the contempt for danger, the self-denial and attention to the people involved in the investigations... Dr. Caterina Ruggeri, currently stationed at the Police Headquarters of Imperia with the rank of Commissioner, by decision of this Minister, is promoted to Deputy Vice Commissioner and assigned to the Police Headquarters of Ancona, where she will need to take service by December 15 p.v. The Police Commissioner will arrange her place of service, according to the needs, taking into account Dr. Ruggeri’s excellent qualities...

I could hardly believe what I was reading. In a very short period of time I had advanced in my career in an unexpected, I would say incredible, way. The Minister of the Interior himself was dispensing praise to me and, moreover, after only a few months spent away from my places of origin, I could return to work close to home, and precisely in conjunction with becoming a mother. I said goodbye to Dr. Perugini, thanking him for all he had done for me in that short period and left the Police Headquarters with my head bursting from all the thoughts that were crowding it. I got in the car and didn't even notice the road I had taken to get home, I was so absorbed in my mental elucubrations. There were no decisions to be made, as had happened a few months earlier. At that moment the decisions had already been taken for me, and I certainly couldn’t oppose it. Yet I loved these places, even though I had lived there for a very short time, and I couldn't stand the idea of going away, perhaps forever, from my new friendships. In my entire life I had never had such intense human relationships, of friendship, of solidarity, as those I had experienced in that recent period. I didn't even have the courage to say goodbye to Mauro, or Clara, or Anna, but neither did I have the courage to say goodbye to Laura, D'Aloia and even Inspector Gramaglia or the last agent who worked at the Precinct.

But, on the other hand, I would return to my beloved places of origin, I would be close to my love, to the father of my child. And the little girl would be able to live in a normal family atmosphere and enjoy the presence of an affectionate father. I knew that my job would keep me out of the house a lot and that, if my daughter had to grow up alone with me, I would have to continuously entrust her to nurseries and babysitters. In this way, however, everything would be easier.

There were only a few days left to spend in Liguria. Winter was just around the corner and the cold, also due to the proximity of the mountains already covered with snow on the tips, was making itself felt. More and more frequently Furia tried to come inside to crouch in front of the flames of the fireplace. Not without a touch of melancholy, I began to gather my things together, preparing some boxes to load in the car along with the suitcases.

Who knows why! I wondered. Even in a short time a person is able to accumulate an incredible amount of objects and don’t want to separate from them for any reason.

Among other things, I found the precious book written in Hebrew with translation in Latin opposite, which had remained in my hands on the day of the fire at the Della Rosa house. I had always kept it as a souvenir of the investigation and the close escape, but at that moment I decided that it was right to return it to Clara. So I took the opportunity to visit her and say goodbye to her and Mauro.

"Thank you, Caterina. I thought this book had been lost forever in the flames, and instead... But let me give you a copy of the Key of Solomon translated into Italian. You can keep it as a souvenir and you’ll be able to understand the power, wisdom and mysteries that are hidden in the text. Only you know how that night you were able to recite by heart the invocation that allowed you to save my life. And you recited it in perfect Hebrew."

Mauro had gone out to get some wood for the fireplace, and since we were alone I confessed to her what I think she already knew.

It was Aurora Della Rosa who instilled the words in my mind, but I never spoke about it with anyone. I think you’re the only one who can understand me. In fact, after having the relationship with the sorceress I’ve changed, I have perceptions that previously I would not even have dreamed of having. If I concentrate, I see people’s aura, and I have the impression that I can also guess what those in front of me are thinking.

These are powers, my dear Caterina, that we all have innately. The frontiers of the human mind are still unexplored. There are those who learn to make use of certain skills and those who neglect them, they don’t train themselves to use them and therefore it is as if they didn’t possess them.

Be that as it may, I believe that it was Aurora Della Rosa who favored the development of these perceptions in me, new and fantastic for me, and so I’ve decided that my daughter will be called Aurora in her honor and in her memory, and also because I feel partly responsible for her death, or at least for not having done enough to avoid it.

I saw that as she heard that name, Clara's eyes had become misty.

All this does you honor, Caterina. Certainly your little girl, regardless of the name you give her, will have an exceptional personality. Don’t think that, because of the distance, I won’t get to know your daughter! It certainly won't be a few hundred kilometers that will stop me!

Mauro had returned with an armful of wood, cut into logs, and dropped it near the fireplace.

If the housewives chatter is over, I’d like to say goodbye to my colleague too, before she leaves for a remote region of Central Italy. The State Police over there must still be in the Stone Age!

Oh, they certainly don't have a Lamborghini Gallardo as a service vehicle, I said, imitating his sarcastic tone. But nothing will prevent me from asking for your specific collaboration, when I’m entangled in a particularly complicated investigation.

Ah, the way you attract them, I don't think it will be long before you call me!

I stopped for dinner with them and, what with one quip and another, a glass of red wine, a grappa and a mandarin punch, I got back in the car with a blood alcohol level higher than was allowed, but happy to have spent an evening with real friends.

I decided not to return to the Marche by plane, but face the long journey in my car, so Furia would travel with me too.

Fall/Winter 2009/2010

VERONICA…

It is well into autumn, even if the temperature is still pleasant. The days have become shorter and at 20.30 it is already night. The girl, slight although rather tall with short blond hair cut in a boyish style advances slowly, limping, helping herself with a crutch. In her free hand is a paper bag containing her frugal dinner. She reaches the canopy of the bus stop at the beginning of Viale Trieste and sits down on the bench with difficulty. She looks around to make sure there is no mugger around. The only passer-by is the veterinarian who still lives in that neighborhood, perhaps because he has a house and office there and, unlike most Italian families, has not succumbed to the temptation to move to the other side of the city. Fortunately a reassuring presence who takes his cute white dog for an evening walk at that hour. The girl eats her sandwich in a few bites, then looks for the pack of cigarettes, but realizes that the one she has in her pocket is now empty. Leonardo Albini materializes from the darkness as only he can do, as if he suddenly came out from a cloak of invisibility. His movements don’t escape another person, Dr. Zanardi, the Commissioner of the Police Precinct, who is invariably on the sidewalk on the other side of the road, leaning with her back to the wall as she pretends to fiddle with the keys of her car. Leonardo sits on the bench next to the girl and places papers and tobacco on her lap. She makes her own cigarette and lights it.

Are you sure you want to know? Believe me, revenge doesn’t pay.

But it leaves a good taste in your mouth, like this tobacco.

Leonardo writes a name and an address on a cigarette paper and leaves it in the girl’s hands.

He’s a well-known person. Are you sure that was the licence plate?

I have it printed in my mind. He ran over me there, on that crosswalk, and took off. But before he disappeared into the dark, I read that plate well.

And why didn't you report it to the police?

I did, of course, after I woke up from the coma. They checked and told me that maybe I had seen or remembered incorrectly, there was no sign related to the accident on the bodywork. And of course, in the meantime the guy would have had plenty of time to get the car cleaned up! And anyway I haven't trusted the police for a long time.

Only a slight accent betrays the Slavic origin of the girl, named Anna. She came from Serbia with her parents over sixteen years ago, when she was a little girl of just over four years old. To make ends meet, her father had immediately induced his wife into prostitution. The woman was young and attractive and the neighborhood lent itself well to that kind of business. But one evening Anna's father, dead drunk, started accusing his wife of not putting down all her earnings for the family but was keeping something for her vanities, for clothes, shoes, for stockings. The quarrel ended with a knife wound. Anna saw her father run away, never to return, while her mother lay on the floor bleeding abundantly. The little girl knew how to type emergency numbers on the cell phone. She managed to compose 118 and get help in time. But the police never tracked down her father, who had probably returned to his home country somehow. Her mom did her best with makeshift jobs as a cleaning lady or caregiver for the elderly, no longer selling her body, but earning much less. Anna was 14 years old when her mother, tired of life, made the insane gesture. She went down into the street in front of the house, poured gasoline on herself and set herself on fire. A horrible end, of which fortunately Anna was not a direct witness. Returning from school, she saw a kind of blackened puppet on the sidewalk, as if someone had burned a large doll, and she struggled to understand that this was the body of her poor mother. There was a crowd of curious people around that still smoking ember, but no one who had found the courage to try to help her. And the whole thing had happened in broad daylight.

Anna was entrusted to a family home, but she ran away immediately, went to live on the street and starting doing the same job that as a child she had seen her mother do, with the result of earning enough to be able to eat. Often, when her customers saw that she was little more than a child, or they ran off for fear of being accused of pedophilia, or rewarded her with a maximum of 20 Euros, after all she was a little girl, she needed little to live on, just enough to buy food.

Go to a lawyer, take him that name and he will see that you receive compensation, Leonardo advises her.

The girl shakes her head.

I don’t have any money to give to a lawyer. That bastard has to pay and I'll do everything myself, you can be certain. This leg will never be like it was before. The femur was crushed under the wheels of that huge SUV. Even though the doctors did their best, the leg is a few centimeters shorter than the other, and what’s more it continues to hurt me really a lot. Right at the moment when I had been able to make a change in my life. I had got through the selections and was going to be taken on as a model. I had a job and a career ahead of me, and now no one will call me for a fashion show or a commercial, I will have to go back to walking the street to survive.

Without rebutting further, Leonardo leaves the girl another paper and a little tobacco enough to make another cigarette and goes away. He crosses the street and walks past Veronica, the policewoman who is keeping an eye on him.

It's not that it’s not obvious that you’re stalking me. When are you going to understand that I’m a good-living guy? I need to take you to bed to make you understand. You’d enjoy being with me and you’d look for me for other reasons.

Quit this messing around. Rather, I clearly saw you pass the dose to that girl. Are you dealing now?

I told you, I'm clean, Leonardo replies, raising his arms. "You can search me if you want, if I were a drug dealer I’d have other doses on me, isn’t that right, Commissioner?"

Veronica pats him down and, apart from his wallet, pulls tobacco, papers, lighter and a package of Marlboro out of his pockets.

How the hell can you make cigarettes with this junk? I don’t know! The woman pulls a Marlboro out of the pack and lights it, then returns everything to the man. Sooner or later I’ll catch you red-handed, and I’ll make you take a nice holiday in a pleasant hamlet of Ancona called Montacuto. In the cooler, in a residence with bars on the windows and surrounded by a very high fence.

I think I'll get you to a bedroom first and make love to you. You're ripe for it, Leonardo replies, skillfully making a cigarette with the tobacco and lighting it as Veronica looked at him terrified. They each go their own way, while Anna remains sitting under the canopy of the bus stop for a long time. At a certain point she gets up and, one step at a time, with the calm required by her uncertain gait, she arrives at the address Leonardo gave her. She studies the house, studies its occupants and the actions and times of her revenge are already outlined in her mind.

The next day, Anna is already ready for action. She had made the Molotov cocktail following the instructions to the letter: it will work. The adrenaline circulating in her blood is at such high levels that she forgets any pain. It's three o'clock in the morning and there is not a living soul around. She leaves the crutch near the fence of the house, and very laboriously climbs over it. The ladder she had spotted in the garden must have been used to prune the trees, but what matters is that it has the right height to get to the windows of the first floor. Anna leans it under what she has understood to be the bedroom window. The guy sleeps with his wife and they have a baby of a few months who is sleeping in the adjoining room. The night before, at exactly a quarter past three, the bedside light had come on and the woman had gone to the child’s room after he had woken up and wanted the bottle. Anna calculated that the same thing could be repeated every night at about the same time. She climbs the rungs of the ladder, one by one, with a little effort, but not too much. The roller shutter is lowered only halfway. At the right moment, a jab with an elbow to break the glass and launch of the Molotov. It will be hell.

That bastard will die in the same way as my poor mom. He deserves it! If the wife is quick, she will get her ass to safety with the little one. As for me, I will wait here quietly for them to come and arrest me, as it is now...

At the top of that ladder, Anna puts a cigarette in her mouth, the lighter in one hand, the incendiary bomb in the other. Punctually, the light turns on and the woman gets up. The flame of the lighter flickers, reaches the cigarette, but can’t reach the fuse of the rudimentary device.

No, I cannot be the cause of the fact that that child will grow up like me, without a father, and with a mother destroyed by pain.

Her leg is starting to hurt again and it is difficult to go down the ladder, put it back in its place, climb over the fence and recover the crutch, but she succeeds.

Life for Anna continues to go by as usual, her economic resources are increasingly less, and every night she finds herself eating her sandwich sitting on the usual bench. She calls to the white dog, who deviates from his trajectory to come and get his dose of cuddles, dragging his master behind him. The dog lays o his back with his paws in the air, to get little tickles on his belly, which he likes so much. The vet smiles at Anna, she looks into his eyes, two green eyes that instill confidence.

In this note is the name and address of the person who made me like this. Do what you like with it, I have neither money nor credibility to go and ask for compensation.

In silence, the man takes the note, puts it in his pocket and walks away. A few days later, the girl receives in the mail a check for 300,000 euro signed by the guy who ran over her at the time and ran away like a coward. In the envelope a note: I hope this is enough. Please do not report me. A scandal would ruin me forever.

Leonardo, as usual, suddenly appears and sits on the bench next to the girl.

Cigarette? he asks.

No, thank you. I quit smoking. I don't like the taste of tobacco in my mouth anymore.

How did it go? Have you made good use of my information?

Thanks to you and another angel, I now have the money to go to America and undergo an operation that will bring my leg back to its right length. I have calculated that what with the trip, the stay and expenses for the clinic I’ll need exactly 300,000 Euros. Everything I have, but when I return to Italy I will be ready to face a new life.

Good luck, then!

Leonardo crosses the street and arrives beside the policewoman lurking there. Unexpectedly, he brings his face closer to her face and brushes her lips. Caught off guard, Veronica accepts the kiss and runs her tongue around his tongue for a few moments. Then, she suddenly stiffens and pulls away just far enough let rip a resounding slap directed at Leonardo's cheek.

You're crazy! she exclaims. Then, following the thread of her reasoning as a policewoman: Did the whore refuse the dose you offered her today? But anyway, remember, get it well into your head: sooner or later I’ll catch you red-handed.

You’d be better off taking a look around and seeing who the real criminals are, that are certainly not lacking in this area. But why should I tell you what to do? As it is, it’s by following me that you catch criminals. Sooner or later I’ll send you the bill, my dear!

He brings his mouth closer to Veronica's again and, this time, and not by mistake, she indulges in a long kiss. When she opens his eyes again, Leonardo has vanished into the dark, as only he is