A squad of Italian police arrived bright and early at a freight yard connected to Leo Casselli. The commanding officer marched into the office and found two people working there. He handed them a search warrant. “I want the registration and insurance documentation for every vehicle and trailer on this lot,” he said to the man in charge, “and be quick about it.”

“Do you know who owns this place?” the manager whispered to him.

“Yes, I do,” the cop whispered back. “It’s Leo Casselli’s place.”

The man blanched. “I will get into big trouble.”

“You’re already in big trouble,” the cop said. “And if I have to tell you again to get moving, I’ll put you in handcuffs and tear this place apart.”

The man got moving. He went to a filing cabinet and removed a stack of folders. “Here,” he said. “This is the file on every piece of equipment in the yard. The serial number for each is written on the outside of the folder.”

The cops went to work. Two hours later, the lead cop called his men together. “Have you finished?”

“Yes, sir,” one of them said. “Except for that trailer, the refrigerated one—there is no record of it.”

“Get me the bolt cutters,” he said.

He walked over to the trailer and cut the padlock. “Open it!”

Two men swung open the doors; the trailer was filled to the ceiling with cardboard boxes.

“What is it?” the cop asked.

A man pulled down a box and cut it open. “Candy,” he said.

“Bring me those two people from the office.”

The two workers were marched out.

“Where is the paperwork for this trailer?”

“Um, there is no paperwork,” one of them said. “We arrived for work a couple of days ago, and it was sitting here. We have to refill the tank for the refrigeration unit every day.”

“You are both under arrest for the receiving of stolen goods,” the cop said, “and every vehicle and trailer on this lot is now confiscated. Bring me the keys for all of them.”

“Confiscated?” the man said. “I will be shot.”

“It is now all the property of the Italian government,” the cop said, “and so are you.”

—

Stone, Dino, and Viv were at lunch, with Jim and Dante as their guests, when Dante’s phone rang. “Pronto.” He listened for a moment. “Eccellente.” He hung up. “You will all be delighted to know that we have found the missing shipment of chocolate, and that the trailer is parked on a lot owned by Leo Casselli. We have confiscated half a dozen trucks and two dozen trailers and arrested the workers there. It will be interesting to see who makes bail for them.”

“Baron Klaucke will be thrilled,” Stone said, “but only if this leads to Casselli’s arrest and conviction.”