Something heavy and warm hung on his arm. The head rested on the pillow but was in contact with the face of Francesca. Paul heard her breathe in sync with him and the scent of vanilla filled the nostrils. Slowly pulled his arm numb by now, turned toward her and began to look at her as she slept. When he saw her open her eyes waited a few seconds, the time it took her to regain consciousness, then kissed her passionately. He saw her eyes shine and he was happy.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;What you going to do oggi?>> Churches smiling Francesca, that song continues:
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Not mica want to stay in bed all giorno, vero?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Rising? We have to get up? I live here under the covers with you forever!>> After he replied jokingly, Paul became serious and said
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;I have to take your notes, I have several ideas I'd like to start writing. I think I'll work the rest of the morning ...>> The sentence ended in mid-air, was silence and then asked:
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Tu idea that you've done this vicenda?>> Francesca was happy to hear that question, it was proof that Paul took into account his opinion, he pondered a few seconds, then answered:
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;For me behind this story there is a dark side and there are facts that do not agree. Certainly one of the robbers There was a woman who has never been detected, then the description of a thief made to us by Motta does not agree with any of those arrested. I do not even go back to the boss of the gang leaders, acting in person, generally give orders and not enter into action themselves. I think it is more likely that the robbery had taken someone else on behalf of these mafia leaders. For example, that fighter Morelli Roberto Morelli I seem to remember his name, he may have been, perhaps because blackmailed. Keep in mind that had lost a lot of money to her manager and who risk their lives>>. Paul had listened with interest to the words of Francesca, those assumptions were plausible and confirmed his ideas, he confided his thoughts:
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Yes that's what I thought, even if the novel had in mind a version even more imaginative, though at this point we still have two people to listen to: Paola Greek and Roberto Morelli. You should look on the Internet of information about them or, better yet, find their phone number and talk to them. If possible, you should make an appointment with both. Roberto Morelli is the owner of Green Valley, should be easily traced. Paola Greek perhaps still lives in Catania, if we're lucky, we can bring it>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;For the afternoon I think I do it>>. Francesca got out of bed, she was still naked and pulled the duvet cover. Paul was left alone with a sheet.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Not to leave you freddo>> he said.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Alzati, pigrone>>, Francesca said that to tease him a tongue. Paul took the pillow and pulled him towards her, right in the center without harm her. She said raising towards him then with one click left the room and went into the bathroom to take a shower.
Paul left alone, got up, got dressed, tried and Francesca's notes, waiting to come out of the bathroom, he began to read them every now and then highlight a phrase or add a comment in the margins of the paper. The sun was high and a ray of sun threw a shadow on the desk. Some noise distracted him: dogs barking in the distance, the roar of the shower then, suddenly, silence. Shine saw something out the window and for a few moments a beam of light struck his eyes, raised his hand to protect the view. Paul went to the window to see where it came from that strange reflection, he looked and saw nothing. He was about to return to work when a second reflected back into the room to shine. A Paul came to mind when a child was playing with mirrors and liked to create odd reflections around him, perhaps, he thought, there is someone who wants to play with me. Repositioning the tent, leaving only a small window of opportunity, and almost hiding, he continued to observe what was happening outside. Within minutes the reflections were repeated for three times that he could understand where they came from.
The rented farmhouse had been built on a small hill surrounded by lemon groves, yet low well-maintained plants that emit a pleasant aroma. About thirty meters further north, the land formed a valley, then came back and uneven terrain, climb to form a real hill covered with a dense undergrowth of Mediterranean. It was from there that someone wielding something that reflective illuminating the room. Paul wanted to know who he was and decided to go and see.
Paul remembered that he brought with him the need to run, I have to keep in shape, he thought when he packed his suitcase. He opened the closet and pulled out a pair of running shoes and put on a suit. Francesca just then emerged from the bathroom and looked at him curiously.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Hai already finished scrivere?>> asked.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Interaction several days that do not work fisica, correre, I think I need to come back from a mezz'oretta>> he replied. He did not want to worry about it and there was always the possibility that these reflections were not anything serious, Francesca would have made fun of for some time. And then I'm the one who sees things that do not exist, he said. Paul, made a bit 'stretching, turned on the i-Pod and ran.
discovered that Paul had brought for the ride as a child. He remembered when his father took him into the woods to gather blackberries or search for mushrooms. Often they could not find anything, they sat on the grass and enjoying the silence. They were there for hours, in peace, without saying anything. He loved those silences he spent with his father more than anything else. When, at lunchtime, its father told him, we must return to mother, let's see who comes under the first, he got up and ran home. Run, run like crazy and it was often the first to arrive. We have a true champion, he runs like the wind our son, were the words his father said to his mother. In the beginning, he thought he did it on purpose to be missed when he noticed his father's breath, he was convinced that maybe it was really fast. He had never wanted to turn that talent into an athletic, running was a personal pleasure and would not have shared with others.
When he went to university, had stopped running, study and discover the pleasure of writing he had been distracted from the rest. He resumed running two days after the death of his parents. He had to distract the pain was too big and would break my heart otherwise. He went into the woods and then ran, and ran for a long time until fatigue and the pain they feel its effects. When he returned home, he was exhausted, he threw himself on the bed and finally managed to sleep. Since then the race had become a drug. Whenever I had a concern or sorrow, he ran. When the morning a nightmare woke him, he ran. When he was angry, he ran.
Paul went in the opposite direction from that she thought there was someone with something reflective. If you see a bad guy and I get goes away, he thought. Lemon in the vegetation was sparse and was easily recognizable. He reached the forest, went on for a few hundred meters until you reach a dirt road, from there you could move without being noticed. Then, when he came to a crossroads, chose the left branch, would have covered a wide turn in order to surprise the hypothetical observer at the shoulders.
The road was bumpy and covered with dry leaves, Paul ran but was careful to lay his feet, he did not make any noise. He turned off the I-Pod, he wanted to hear every sound and every sound. He looked at his watch about twenty minutes had elapsed from the moment he started, stopped, looked the sun and tried to navigate. He calculated that it was a hundred feet above his goal was to only go down from that point, unfortunately, the road had become only a small path rough and steep, often unstable. He stopped breathing for almost run and make no noise. Unfortunately, the right foot came to rest on a pit covered with leaves, stumbled to the ground and ruined. A flock of birds rose and pointed to the valley to its position.
He got up, tried to groom themselves, put his foot on the ground, was sore but felt that it was nothing serious, it would be quickly restored. He looked around him and, at that very moment, he saw a car that drove down the road main. The vegetation was thick but a glimmer recognized a white fiesta. He understood that it was not just her imagination or the imagination of a writer Francesca, someone kept them under control.
Strange, very strange, he thought. If someone nearby, heard the noise I did not want to be identified and reached out the car, how did you succeed so quickly? That question would not allow it but now the opportunity to discover who the mysterious observer was gone, they had nothing left to do but go home.
Paul continued to fall until he came to a small clearing in the woods. He stopped and began to observe. In a corner he noticed a few sprigs of fresh crushed and broken, a sign that someone had moved a little from there and maybe it stopped. Among the other noted that a branch from that point was just able to control his home. On the ground he saw a cigarette butt, and took notes that had been turned off recently. Farther noticed a wastepaper, was a shell of a chocolate bar. By now he was certain that someone, most likely with a pair of binoculars, kept him under control for some time. Yes, were the reflections of the sun hitting the lenses of binoculars to make those reflections that lit up the room, which cost Paul.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;How to you tanned? What have you done?>> Frank asked when she saw Paul in the house.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Interaction stumbled and are not caduto, nulla, now I take a shower and I cambio>>, "said Paul. Did not say anything about what he saw and what he thought was happening, did not want to scare her and then had no tangible evidence, in all it was only his assumption.
While in the shower, Frank Paul saw through the glass, stood firm on the door, was eager to talk to him.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;We were lucky with Roberto Morelli and Paola Greek, you know? I did a good job while you were running>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Ti ascolto, tell pure>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;I tried Roberto Morelli, I quickly found, is the owner of Green Valley. I address here. I phoned one of his employees told me, told me that at that time there was but he assured me that the afternoon would have found. We can go directly there, do not you think?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Sì, così, maybe it's better that I would not find an excuse not riceverci>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Ho also visited the site of Green Valley on address>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Qualcosa d'interessante?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;E 'one of the largest farms in the province, is located in the plain of Catania, is actually sort of nowhere about ten years ago, before There were only partially cultivated land that made very little, then Roberto Morelli, a little 'time, the purchasing company is putting together a few million euro. Does it seem strange?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;A boxer who is given to agriculture is odd, then the money which would have taken them? Want to see the robbery and did it himself advantage of the fact that his boss was in jail, has invested the money in the Green Valley?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;This is not the most important thing that has scoperto>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Hai found Paola Greco?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Sicuro l'ho found that when you and I'll be told tutto, sorpreso>>. Paul had finished taking a shower, put a towel wrapped around his waist, and then went in front of the sink and began to shake the can of shaving cream, rubbed his cheeks and began to shave. Francesca imperturbable remained in the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub and looked at him, remained silent.
\u0026lt;'I am curious to hear storia>>, said Paul.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Paola Greek is lives in Catania, is co-owner of a restaurant with her husband, Angelo Belfiore, and another member. From what I've found, seems to be doing good business. Fancy restaurant, you should book well in advance, account salty. Luxury stuff is not a dive in short>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;And surprise that sarebbe?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;The name of the Partner: Marco Valenti>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Sarebbe?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;I tried to find something on him, you know that I discovered? Well I'll tell you, Valenti has a clean record but in the past has undergone several trials. He was accused of being the bodyguard of Don Scalisi>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Cavoli!>>, "said Paul, who then went on
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;The circle seems to close. Morelli was linked to Barbera, Don Valenti Scalisi, was the daughter of Greek Paola Passera. Three are in jail accused of robbery, three are now rich and loose, it does little to put two and two>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;It's not over here! I did some research on Angelo Belfiore. I discovered it was a fixer, had been in jail for a long time for recycling dirty money. Someone in the past had also been accused of managing the money of Simone Passera. The stepfather of Paola>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;They are all linked together then? Maybe we did downtown. I have to get dressed and organize the afternoon. We have many people to meet. Have you booked dinner at the Greek restaurant in Paola?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;I knew that you'd say that. Already done>>. Paul rinsed his face, wiped, came up to Amy that property did not understand his intentions, lifted from the ground and kissed it.
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