“What of it?”

“Allora, you understand.”

He snapped, “How can you assert I understand something if I have just asked you to explain?”

“Sir. You write down in it the names of people who offend you. Who you wish to get even with.”

“Do I now?”

“I have heard people say that. Yes, I have.”

“Well, Forestry Officer, tell me how many names you see, names destined for the pillory.” Spiro handed the book to Ercole, who took it timidly.

“I—”

“Read, Forestry Officer. Read.”

He cracked open the pages and Rhyme could catch a glimpse of dense and very precise Italian script. The lettering was minuscule.

Ercole frowned.

Spiro said, “The title. Read what is at the top of the first page. Aloud.”

Ercole read: “La Ragazza da Cheyenne.” He looked toward Rhyme and Thom. “It means The Girl from Cheyenne.”

“And below?”

“Capitolo Uno. First Chapter.”

“And below that, please continue. Translate for Capitano Rhyme.”

Ercole puzzled for a moment. He cocked his head and read in a halting voice, as he translated, “‘If the four twenty-five train to Tucson had not been attacked, Belle Walker would have married her fiancé and her life would have settled into the same dull, predictable routine as that of her sisters, and their mother before them.’”

Ercole looked up.

Spiro said, “It is a hobby of mine. I like very much American cowboy stories and I read many of them. I have from the time I was a boy. You know Italy and American Westerns are inextricably linked. Sergio Leone. The Clint Eastwood movies. A Fistful of Dollars. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Then there is the masterpiece Once Upon a Time in the West. Sergio Corbucci’s Django, which starred Franco Nero. And of course there are the scores for so many of those films by Ennio Morricone. He even scored a most recent movie by Quentin Tarantino.

“I particularly enjoy Western novels written by women in the nineteenth century. Did you know some of the best were written by them?”

Didn’t have a clue, Rhyme reflected. And don’t much care. But he nodded agreeably.

Ercole, perhaps relieved not to be inscribed in the prosecutor’s book of doom, said, “Fascinating, Procuratore.”

“I believe so too. Mary Foote wrote a clever novel about mining in 1883. Helen Hunt Jackson wrote Ramona, quite famous, the next year. And one of the most interesting is by Marah Ellis Ryan, Told in the Hills. It is as much about race relations as it is an adventure story. I find that remarkable. Well more than one hundred years ago.”

Spiro nodded at the book, which Ercole continued to read. The prosecuter said, “I too try my hand at Westerns and have created that character, Belle Walker. A society woman from the East who becomes a hunter of outlaws. And, ultimately, in future books, a prosecutor. So, as you can see, Forestry Officer, you do not need to worry about ending up in the pages of my book. Though, this is not to say that the least failing on your part will not result in catastrophic consequences.”