When Frank got into the car and read the message on the mobile phone of his mother, he was sure that the story would have ended badly, its history, not what Paul was preparing to write. With his mind back to the first time getting on the Ferrari of Paul, just met, had that feeling, did not know what would happen, but he was certain that would happen: you would have to leave and would have suffered. Francesca was bleached in the face, his heart had become like stone and pain stomach prevented him from breathing.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Are you sick? You are pale and was about to faint when you read the message>> Paul said that alarmed by the sudden change of Francesca.
\u0026lt;'No it is not nulla>> Frank said that in a low voice he continued:
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Maybe I took cold. When we return home with a chamomile should go>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Cattive news from your genitori?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;No, not so good, I should indeed be very happy ...>> the words died in his throat, struggled to hold back the tears. She would gladly shouted, but it closed in on itself, that was not the time to explain what was happening to Paul and how things were going between them.
It was now night, and with the Mercedes A Class hired Paolo and Francesca walked the road back to the farm of Aci Trezza, suddenly began to rain. At first it was just a harmless drizzle, then the wind increased and became a downpour, the wipers could hardly dispose of the water. Paul slowed due to poor visibility, sometimes look to Francesca, trying to figure out whether it was a sick passenger or something more serious. He had sensed that something bad had happened but did not dare ask anything, she wanted it to trust others.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Filippo ragione, did not leave the boat for fishing this notte>> said to try to make her talk.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Sì, you see is a guy sveglio, knows many things and can tell bene>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;With oggi, listened to what I think to be clear I do not need other informazioni, the novel is now ready in my testa, I just scriverlo>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Do not you curious to know how things really went? For you have committed the robbery or the persons arrested were Angela Belfiore, Marco Valenti, Roberto Morelli with the help of a woman, perhaps Isabella Condorelli?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Certo is easy to think that they have been loro, and maybe they were in a position to execute the rapina, l'impressione but they gave me to be good I persone, becomes difficult to think of them as rapinatori>> .
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;The facts, however, are against them. They were almost all on the wrong road, economic difficulties, Some were hunted down and even risk being killed. After the robbery became rich and free>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Forget that should have been them to kill their accomplices and I do not think that one of them was able to do so, also Passera, Quattrocchi and Barbera were arrested red-handed, had the result of money robbery>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;But someone made the tip to the police, maybe they were right. They knew of the robbery and thus they got rid of their opponents. Somehow involved, I am sure this>>.
Paolo and Francesca came home in the midst of a storm of wind that bent the trees and torrential rain that drenched them completely in the short distance that the car had to go out into the house. Such was the ardor of Paul to open the door that did not notice that someone had tried to tamper with the lock.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Accidenti that tempo>> Paul said.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Forza made a hot shower before you take a accidente>> continued.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Not to worry I'm meglio, tu, go first while I read an email and I have to prepare a camomilla>> said Francesca.
Francesca went into his room, locked the door and turned on his laptop. While waiting to download e-mail, undressed quickly wiped as best and put on a sweater to keep warm. He concentrated on the mail. His mother was right. There was no doubt she worked. Assumption University of MIT, with a permanent contract to teach the history of Italian literature. His application was accepted, his dream was realized, would have left Italy, he taught at an American university. A
life. He had studied a life, toiling away like mad in order to succeed in what had always been his dream. Then he had lost hope, he had not received a reply and had removed the fact of having sent the request, his subconscious, however, had not forgotten why he was certain that his story would have gone hard with Paul. It would be playing, he would have left.
For years he had dreamed of that day and had imagined it would burst with joy, it would be run by his parents and he would have hugged and kissed. Now he wanted to cry, he had known the love and fate forced her to choose between an important job and one person he loved. Frank looked at his watch, it was very late, there was no need to call home. My parents certainly will stay asleep, he thought, I'll call tomorrow. He turned off the computer, went into the kitchen and lit the gas stove to heat water.
Paul walked in and saw her sitting, pensive, sad and worried, asked,
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;C'è something you preoccupa, vero?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Yes, but now I do not want to talk about it, I must be alone and think. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll tell you more>> Frank said.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;I understand, tomorrow will listen and talk. Now I'm more comfortable because it is not a physical problem>> and then wrapped it without talking with his arms and held her.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;This molto, not sleep at night I intend to write the novel, so if you want to talk will not let you come in every scrupoli, momento>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;You are understanding and I appreciate that. But now I have to be alone>>.
Paul went into his room, not completely closed the door Francesca wanted to see the light on and could come and talk if he wanted, then turned on the computer and started writing.
on The feelings were mixed: he was happy and worried. Happy because he had his story, the plot, the characters and the environment had focused his mind, he would have made a good novel. Concerned about Francesca, did not know what was happening, but sensed that something was taking the away from him. By tomorrow he would know all that remained was to wait in the meantime would have written.
fingers ran on the keyboard, the words became phrases, sentences filled pages, the pages of a chapter. Never before, had written so quickly. He felt the story flowing from his head to the monitor as a river, constantly and without interruption. The arrangement was set on the feelings in a story, even if only a small part of that flow had come to the reader, certainly this would have been involved and would passionate novel. The clock will gallop, but Paul lost consciousness. Her legs were numb to ask your body to stop a moment and stand up. He failed, something hard hit his head, it became quite dark and fainted.
Someone was shaking violently, back and consciously tried to open his eyes. The thick head forced him to close them, then tried to move but his movements were blocked. When he opened them, he found himself pinned in the bed, arms outstretched with the wrists tied to the headboard of the bed, his feet joined together. Gradually the figure of a man took shape before him, and he had a gun pointed at his head Francesca Once gagged.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Not male, I can give them the money if those who are cerchi>> begged Paul.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;I am not seeking your money and then I'll settle for a few thousand euro, I want millions. The millions of euro that Angelo Belfiore and his friends robbed>>.
Paul heard those words while trying to figure out where he had seen that face. Remembered. Claudio Cosentino, manager of the Boxing Word.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;What wheels noi, allora?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Since you came to do all those questions in the gym I'm following, I read your article and I know that they have been stealing the money, now help me to make them confess and hand over the rest of the loot>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;You are a fool not I'm a journalist, I am a writer and that is not an article but a novel. Got it! A novel, certain facts are not my invention, they have not been doing it, the robbery>>.
Football groin he roared out, almost fainted.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Do not tell me any more stupid or I'll kill you. I do not care at this point what you are. I shall go to Morelli and I will confess, with a gun bet you know how it melts your tongue? And then what you wrote does not seem entirely invented, I think the money will have their>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;leave go lei, take me as ostaggio>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Do not even mentioned, you stay connected here, she comes with me. When I have money, you will be free and not tied to>>. When he saw Frank Cosentino away taking with it, he tried to lash out. He tried to launch a kick but it was too far away, not even touched it. She heard him laugh and then saw him turn off the lights and close the door. He stood alone in silence, with the first rays of sun through the blinds and desperate.
When she saw him, he realized that this would be his only way of salvation. Blessed his habit of putting a glass of water on the bedside table before going to bed. He reached for the little that could be the right hand and grabbed him. He wanted to break it and use fragments to cut the rope. He tried to slam the glass against the table but the movements of the wrist were limited and the strength was not enough, he could not risk dropping it otherwise would have been useless, it would not be able to recover it. She knew what to do. He closed his eyes, then shook the cup, it was not easy, it took several attempts and a lot of strength. When he heard the "crack", he experienced pain, a shard of glass had injured. He looked out and saw blood on his hand, had to be quick otherwise it would be bled to death.
with your thumb and forefinger grabbed a shard of glass that was left in the hand, wrist bent as far as possible and began to cut. All that effort seemed unnecessary, the blood was red coloring of the cord and this, now wet, it was difficult to break. The forces were fading, he felt weak, the pain was tremendous and his head turned, he was about to faint again. He stopped, breathed deeply thought of Frances. Surrender meant condemn it. Both had recognized Claudio Cosentino, most likely would have killed them after reaching his goal, before Frank and he, in fact there would be no need, he would have bled to death.
tried again with all the strength she had, she felt pain, but clenched his teeth. When he saw the rope slacken the movement grew, there would have failed. It took ten minutes and when the right arm was free, was happy. To free his left arm took less than a minute, a few seconds to cut the rope linking his feet. He stood on the run, went into the bathroom, washed his wounds, then took a sheet with scissors and made a strip, the bandaged hand. The blood stopped. He was tired but free. Now he had to think about what to do.
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