Baldi leafed through dozens of documents until he found the two sheets of paper he was looking for. “Promissio boni viri est obligatio! My word is my bond. Here are the arrest warrants for Daniele Abela and Federico Tolotta.”

“Fine. But it’s late, considering that news of the link between our investigations in prison and the roundup that you’ve carried out was already in this morning’s newspaper. So there’s someone that’s leaking to the press.”

“No one in the prosecutor’s office!” As usual Baldi defended himself against such charges with all his body and soul.

“And no one at police headquarters. I can say that because no one at police headquarters even knew about it. All right, Dottore, it’s the same old story. But like I was telling you on the phone last night, I need to add a third arrest.”

“A third arrest?”

“Right. Amelia Abela, an escort by profession. She was the connection between the masterminds and the murderers.”

“But this Amelia . . . Abela. Any relation to Daniele?”

“His sister. I checked it out.”

“And just who are the masterminds behind the murder?”

Rocco thought it over. “Cutrì, Cremonesi, Turrini . . . all of the people involved in the thing with the public works contracts?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because there’s something that—”

Baldi interrupted him, throwing both arms wide: “No, Schiavone, do me a favor! Banish all doubts! Don’t rethink it all. Have you come to a conclusion? Well then, let’s close the book on this matter, I say!”

“Yes, Judge, maybe you’re right. Even though there’s one thing that still doesn’t add up, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Let’s hear it,” Baldi said patiently. Rocco noticed that the photo of his wife had once again disappeared from the judge’s desk.

“If we arrested Cuntrera and he had some papers with him that allowed you to make all those arrests, then why go to the trouble of eliminating him?”

Baldi shrugged. “Vengeance? Fear? In any case, Cuntrera was someone who knew too much. Maybe he’d threatened them, maybe he was blackmailing or extorting them: ‘Get me out of jail or I’ll ruin you once and for all . . .’ And who knows what secrets he took with him to the grave. Secrets that it’s going to be our job to uncover, by putting that little gang of sons of bitches that we’ve thrown behind bars to the third degree! What do you think, that when you arrest four people the war has been won? That was only a battle, Schiavone!”

Rocco looked at the judge. “You think so? Maybe so . . . why not? But I still need to ascertain whether there were contacts between Cuntrera and Cutrì during his detention.”

“Fine. Check it out. Ascertain to your heart’s content. And smile for once! This is a huge success for us!”