Viper - Michael Morley [117]
Sylvia scraped her fingers through her hair. That cut was certainly long overdue. ‘So Franco was in that car – beyond a doubt?’
‘Beyond a shadow of a doubt.’
‘But someone else was also at the car. Someone who stood exactly where the profiler said the killer must have stood, precisely at the point from where the fatal gunshot was fired?’
Marianna nodded. ‘Spot on. Exactly the same point. I’d say whoever left the geno is your man.’
‘And that DNA doesn’t match any convicted felons?’
‘Not one.’
‘Not even Bruno Valsi – you’re sure of that?’
Marianna pressed her lips into a thin smile. ‘We’re sure of it. Lorenzo Pisano asked the same question. We’ve double-checked. It’s not a match.’
Sylvia sat in silence and tried to unpick the tangle of clues and knockbacks. Forensics didn’t seem to be able to put any of her prime suspects at the right scene with the right evidence. Franco Castellani had one gun – his grandfather’s Glock – but not two. She’d have to check whether the old man had forgotten there had been two. Franco was undoubtedly connected to all the murders at the pit, but not to Sorrentino. Two killers? Could there really be two killers? Franco and Valsi? An impossible pairing? Nothing was impossible, but this was very close. Then again, there seemed absolutely no forensic evidence to link Valsi to anything. ‘Can we get a cross-check between all our DNA samples and the Tortoricci woman?’
Marianna shook her head. ‘Again, already done.’
‘Lorenzo?’ That man always seemed to be a step ahead of her.
‘Aha. There’s no match there either. To be truthful, the trace evidence from the Tortoricci kill was incredibly poor quality and seemed to come from dozens of different sources, no doubt going back years. We found some hair and flaked skin particles, but it’s going to take us centuries to clean it up, replicate it and check the databases.’
Sylvia needed space and time to work it all out. A cold, impossible thought hit her.
Creed.
They had no DNA sample on Creed. He had been their only other suspect. Had they been wrong to write him off?
She rubbed her tired face with both hands. She was grasping at straws and she knew it. ‘God, Marianna, I really need a break here. You think I’m hunting one killer with two guns? Or two killers with two separate but similar guns who work together? Or two completely separate killers with almost identical weapons? Or – most likely option of all – do you think I’m just going stark raving mad?’
Marianna laughed. ‘No doubt about it – last on your list – you are going mad.’ She tapped a big stack of files in front of her. ‘Now, I need you to take your madness away. I’ve got my own piling up in front of me.’
85
Fuorigrotta, Napoli
Gina Valsi’s friend Tatiana had been right – the answer to all her problems was to find another man. Not an affair, though. What she wanted was a permanent new man in her life. She prayed to God that her father would kill her vicious bastard of a husband as quickly as possible. She’d grieve for a while. Be supportive towards Enzo. But then she’d start again. Slim down, shape up. Find herself someone who was sensitive. The kind of guy who couldn’t kill a spider in a bathtub, but would pick it up and put it out of the window. A guy like that could change your life.
Her love for Bruno was dead. Finally gone. It was a relief.
She felt as if someone she knew were suffering from a fatal cancer. It would be merciful for them to die quickly. Get it over with.
Gina was still mentally rebuilding as she parked her silver BMW X5 outside her factory. She employed more than a hundred macchiniste who ran up counterfeit designer garments and made more than a million euros a year for the Family. Some of the clothing even got exported to her father’s friends in Russia, Spain and France. The rest went straight into the shops her Family owned in Naples, Milan and Rome.
‘Signora Valsi,’ shouted a voice from a pace or two behind her.
Gina turned and saw two men. One was small and thin with geeky glasses,