“Oh, nothing, like I told you. Every so often I think about Rome. And I get a little homesick, that’s all. Then I get over it.”

“Tonight, I’ll take you out to dinner.”

Corrado smiled. “What about the CPA De Lullo? Are you going to leave him all alone at home?”

“What if I do? One evening alone won’t kill him.”

“What’s the name of the city you come from? I always forget it.”

“There’s no way you could remember it. Vsevolozhsk . . . near St. Petersburg.”

“What if we went and opened a café back there?”

Tatiana burst out laughing. “You wouldn’t last three months. It’s too cold for you there. But why? Don’t you like it here?”

“Not anymore . . .” And he stepped around the woman and went back into the bar.

Tatiana heaved a sigh just as Barbara the bookseller stepped out of her store. “Buongiorno, Tatiana . . .”

“Buongiorno.”

Barbara looked around. She seemed to have something urgent to say to the Russian woman. She shot a glance around the inside of the café. “I need to talk to you,” she told her in a whisper, without stepping any closer.

“So talk to me.”

“Not here. Later. I have to run now.” And she hurried away.

Everyone’s getting strange, Tatiana thought to herself.

Corrado had started making panini. Slowly, methodically. A slice of bread, a dollop of mayonnaise, a leaf of lettuce, the tuna, another leaf of lettuce, another dollop of mayonnaise. While he was working on his third prosciutto panino, he suddenly froze. He looked down at the yellow-handled knife that he held in his hand and resumed the train of thought that his business partner had interrupted. He didn’t have any other solutions. He couldn’t go on living in that nightmare, blackmailed by that piece of shit. He had to do it. He had to prepare everything with calm and care and then strike unexpectedly. When Enzo least expected it, when Enzo was defenseless. Otherwise he’d never be able to beat him. A quick, accurate, lethal blow and all his problems would be over. He just needed to find the courage. Maybe help himself out by snorting a line or two before going to bed so that he’d remain wide-awake and clearheaded once the time came to drive the point of the yellow-handled knife into the monster’s body.

BEFORE ENTERING HIS OFFICE, ROCCO NOTICED THAT CATERINA had updated the chart of pains in the ass. He smiled at the painstaking work his deputy inspector had done.

“Dottor Schiavone!”

Officer D’Intino’s high-pitched unpleasant voice echoed down the hallway. Rocco turned around.

“What do you want, D’Intì?”

“The dog.”

“What about her?”

“It’s inside. It’s still sleeping. It’s not feeling sick, by any chance?”

“She’s just a puppy. Sleeping is one of her favorite activities.”