CHAPTER 60

CHAPTER 60

CARABINIERI 'S FIAT AUTOMOBILE stopped in front of the gigantic handcrafted wrought iron gate that separated the road from the magnificent mansion built in the 17th century, surrounded by a hunting reserve of more than eighty hectares. Gregory Evans rolled down the car window and pressed a button next to the intercom attached to the gate. Immediately a surveillance camera focused its image on a nearby guardhouse.

— We're from the police — said the detective — we have an appointment with Count Saldini.

After a few moments the iron gate was opened.

— Go ahead — said an armed guard, who appeared from a nearby guardhouse — the Count is waiting for you.

A veritable masterpiece of gardening unfolded before the eyes of the police: geometric mazes made of thuja, carefully treated, alternated with fountains in the form of beautiful girls carved in marble, perfectly aligned on both sides of the path. The continuous noise of the crystalline waters that flowed from the pitchers on his shoulders gave the passer-by a wonderful feeling of peace.

THE AUDIENCE WITH THE COUNT had been going on for over two hours. Still, he kept his distance. It seemed that this man with the hooked nose and gray hair, in his late fifties, was in yet another boring business meeting. However, from the accumulated experience of decades ahead of the police, Greg smelled the apprehension.

— You hired a man who had been expelled from the Vatican for committing a crime as security. This is very worrying for someone in your position. You've endangered your own family — Gregory said, waiting for a reaction.

— You're right, Detective — said the patriarch of the family, remaining impassive — it was an unforgivable failure, this man's background should be investigated more carefully. I myself will be in charge of replacing the company responsible for hiring you. Now, as for this theft, there was no disclosure by the Vatican.

— You also said that he simply quit his job, there was no further contact afterwards?

— No, he just disappeared.

— Hmm... which company is responsible for hiring? — asked Gregory.

— Martel e Scootzzi, from Milan, was responsible for our people for a long time; now, due to this unforgivable lapse, I will have to suspend your services — said the Count.

— Perfect — said the policeman, closing the small notebook — I think we're done here. If any questions arise, we will contact you again.

The count smiled with apparent satisfaction to see that audience ended:

— I'll be at your service, Mr Evans.

The policemen rose, in which they were joined by the Count.

— One last question — said Greg, already on his feet, noting the immediate annoyance that welled up on the Count's face — what is the meaning of your family crest?

The annoyance disappeared, replaced by a sense of pride and satisfaction in the host's mood. His eyes turned then to the gigantic bronze emblem that jutted out over an imposing fireplace.

— The Saldini lion, gentlemen, symbol of a very remote past, its two heads represent the dynasties that gave rise to our family, the Austrian Habsburgs and the French Merovingians.

— Two mighty dynasties to tell you the truth: the royal house of the Holy Roman Empire and the former for the Frankish realm — Greg said with a smile.

The Count was surprised and flattered.

— Congratulations, Detective, I see you are a man who loves history.

— History is an important subject in my activity. As a police officer, it is there that I find the most surprising crimes, those that were not committed out of madness or passion, but those that were meticulously planned, had at their root a sophisticated mind, that of men accustomed to the power of making their reasons their own. of the State itself — Greg said, noting the strange glint in his host's eyes.

— EVANS, WHAT DID YOU think of the count? — Asked Donatello Angiano, a police officer assigned to assist Greg on Italian soil, cutting the silence inside the car on the way back.

Gregory, until then, kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead; his mind, however, wandered. The answer took a few moments. The detective meanwhile seemed to be returning, little by little, from somewhere else, far away.

— What did the Lord think? — asked Donatello again — it looks like he's hiding something!

— Your family crest! — Said the Detective — more talking to himself than to the young man who accompanied him.

— What?... The coat of arms?... What's with the coat of arms? — asked the young man.

— You're right, Donatello, your policeman's instincts are very sharp! — The Count has not revealed the truth to us! I'm sure of that, but that coat of arms tells me something...

— The coat of arms?

Greg nodded.

— Yes, on the Saldini coat of arms we have a lion! — I don't see any connection with this case, which clearly has a snake everywhere, they are two different symbols.

— Two different animals you mean, which doesn't mean the symbology isn't the same.

— Yes, but first we have to visit Martel and Scootzzi in Milan, would you do this?

— I got it!