BACK ONTO THE ROOF. THE SKY WAS BEGINNING TO LIGHTEN. On the one hand, that was a good thing, because it helped him to carry out the challenging task of screwing back together the opening mechanism of the skylight. On the other hand, however, if someone woke up and looked out the window, they’d spot him immediately. He was as unmistakable as a drop of blood on fresh snow. He took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. He had put the keys back and had shut the door to the outbuilding behind him. Up on the roof, with all the chill and the damp that had seeped into his bones during that long night, his hands seemed to be tied in knots. It was hard to get his fingers to move, and the screws were only about an inch long. He’d already driven home the first two. He moved on to the third screw. He silently hoped that Italo had made it back to the place where they’d crossed the wall and climbed over to the other side by now. At least that way, if he was captured, he’d be able to take full responsibility, without having to put poor Pierron in harm’s way. The third screw slipped into place as well. He pulled out the fourth. But the forefinger and thumb of his right hand refused to obey his mental commands. The screw slipped out of his grasp and bounced across the terra-cotta tiles. It continued its progress toward the rain gutter, landing with a metallic clang.

“Fucking hell!”

He couldn’t afford to waste time looking for it now. He’d necessarily have to abandon the task when it was only three-quarters finished. He stood up. Step by step, he crossed back over the roof, taking care not to slip. The smooth soles of his Clarks desert boots weren’t especially well suited to the purpose, but fortunately he managed to make it intact through the ordeal. He lowered himself from the rain gutter to the metal table, and then put the table back where it belonged. He was done! He was moving away from the outbuilding when something caught his eye. Looking out the window on the second floor of the villa, Max was watching him. Rocco stopped in the middle of the lawn. He looked up at the boy. Max slowly lifted his hand and waved to him. Rocco waved back. Then Max opened the window and gestured for him to come over. The deputy chief looked around. There was no one else on the lawn or in the house. He moved quickly over to the foot of the building. The young man had the appearance of someone still wandering in the world of dreams.

“Hi.”

“Ciao, Max.”

“Did Chiara give you the documents?”

The deputy chief nodded his head.

“And were you able to find anything?”

He nodded his head again.

“Make them pay, Dottore!”