Rocco took a deep breath. He looked down at his feet, then looked back up at the warden. “I’m not asking you any special favors to make my stay in this shithole more agreeable. I’m doing it so I can do my job. That being said, if you’d be so kind as to take your sarcasm and stuff it up your ass, we’ll get through the coming hours in a relatively rapid and painless fashion.”

The warden cleared his throat. “They’d told me that you were a guy who didn’t mince words.”

“I’m happy to mince words all afternoon if you feel like it. But what I don’t like is when people like you think that they’re dealing with some poor fool they can dangle on a string. Now, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to speak with Agostino Lumi before he’s transferred. Do you think that might be possible?”

Martinelli smiled. “Certainly. And it won’t be necessary to fill out forms in triplicate, either.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’ve put him in solitary confinement. He’s in the wing for sex offenders. While I make the necessary arrangements, why don’t you read up on his criminal record.” And the warden gave Rocco the binder, slamming it down on the desk. The room wasn’t brightly lit, so the deputy chief stepped over to the window. From there he enjoyed a panoramic view of the house of detention.

“All right then, I’ll get going . . .”

“One last thing. I’ll also need to be able to move around the prison.”

“Sure, I’d thought of that, what do you think? You’ll have one of my men at your disposal at all times to escort you wherever you need to go. He’s right outside, whenever you need him.” Then he pulled open the door to leave. “See you soon. Make yourself right at home.” Rocco rolled his eyes and decided to ignore that last gratuitous bit of sarcasm from the warden.

This was the time of day when all the inmates were free to roam around their respective wings. They were socializing, as he had been informed. Rocco took one last look at those gray buildings, which reminded him of a working-class quarter on the outskirts of Rome; then he started leafing through Agostino Lumi’s binder. He wasn’t interested in the bastard’s criminal record. He wanted to find his weak point.

“Well, lookie lookie . . .” he said to himself with a smile as he went on reading.