The black sedan was running fast. In the trunk, his hands tied behind his back, Frank was writhing on the hood and kicking. The efforts did not produce any effect, even the noise could be heard by anyone at that hour the street was deserted.
Francesca remembered that he had fallen asleep at the computer and being awakened by a noise. When she went into the kitchen to see someone from behind, he had put his hands to his mouth and then with a gun had threatened:
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Stai shut up or kill you and then lui>> . At these words had surrendered, he had been afraid that something bad happened to Paul. He also thought that perhaps the stranger was just a thief, after taking some money, he would leave. He had to be quiet and everything would have been good. Instead
was wrong and was now repentant. If he made noise, now Paul is not tied to the bed and she would not be in the dark in a stinky boot into the hands of a madman who very probably would kill her. He recognized the man had heard his voice, he would never let loose.
When she heard the car slow down and jump because the road was bumpy, sighed for a moment, perhaps the journey was almost over and she could breathe fresh air. He did not know how much longer he could keep going back indoors. But then, when the car stopped completely, and heard the door slam, he was afraid. Cosentino forcefully pulled out of the car. He was alone in the open countryside, near the house of Green Valley. Francesca knew that place well. There was the day before, not could be wrong. With guns drawn to her and without speaking, Cosentino forced her to go, then calmly said,
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Bene, now you have to do some telefonata>>.
Paul left the house running, got into the Mercedes, got under way with a scoured and departed. Perhaps he understood the intentions of Cosentino. Of course if you were wrong, Francesca was in trouble. She, Morelli, Condorelli, and all the others were in trouble. He had to risk it. He remembered the words of Cosentino: \u0026lt;\u0026lt;Andrò by Morelli and I will confessare>>. Cosentino was difficult to go directly to the home of Morelli, most likely would have set a trap to those who believed they had committed the robbery. Li has to arrive at an isolated place where nobody can see and hear. Where better than the Green Valley? Paul had thought.
had traveled no more than a mile when they spotted a white fiesta that ran the opposite direction to her for a moment looked at him but the driver did not recognize him. He was a man in his thirties, dark brown, of normal build, also staring at him with curious eyes but that was not the time to ask questions or stop. Paul accelerated, the fiesta went on, certainly was headed for his house, the only entrance to the road and, of course, the man was concerned him.
The Mercedes ran, but faster heart beat Paul. What would he do if he found Claudio Cosentino? It had neither arms nor ideas. He had also forgotten the phone, he could not ask for help. He was alone.
The sun came up the hill, the sky was clear and bright but the road was still wet on the rainy night. When the car left the road and take the dirt road leading to the house of Roberto Morelli, Paul noticed the footprints left by the tires of some cars. He stopped the car and got out. Three different cars had traveled that stretch of road recently, a fourth a few hours before. Paul began to reason: Morelli and Condorelli certainly would travel together, then Greek and Angelo Paola Belfiore, was the second car, then Valenti alone or with Chiara. He called them all, wants them all together. They want their faith and their money. Most likely took advantage of Francesca, was to call her, has been forced to say that he has discovered important facts about them and if they do not want to be published have to pay.
The cottage was close and someone could easily notice, was not to be discovered. Paul hid in the bushes and the car continued on foot. Walking in the wet ground was hard, sometimes his foot sank into the ground. He picked up a branch and used it as a stick, it appealed to the left, the right hand was still sore. When he was at a hundred yards, he saw the three cars, the fourth, a black sedan, was on the back, you barely noticed.
The north facade of the building was blind, windowless, Paul decided to approach the building from that direction, it was still a risk, the last meters were without barriers, anyone would have seen. He came close to the house, looked through a window but saw nothing. He stopped, he heard someone speak, was the voice of Claudio Cosentino. Paul, careful not to make noise, he went on the other side, near the entrance. The door was just ajar, calmly opened, then went inside. He saw the back of Claudio Cosentino, held at gunpoint Francesca, still tied, and all the others: Morelli, the Condorelli, Valenti, Belfiore and Greek. Cried
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;I know that you have the rest of the stolen goods. I want that money. Now let go and if Morelli does not return within an hour with the money, kill one of you. One per half-hour delay>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Not there are those soldi, them abbiamo>> implored Condorelli.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;The robbery l'avete made voi, confessate?>>.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Yes, yes we did the robbery but we have not taken anything for us>> Greek Paola said.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Very bad for you. I want them money. However, you're not green, the estate and the restaurant will make it good. Soon the banks open, I want each of you to withdraw all her savings. One by one, and if not back in time, will kill their mate and then all the other>>. Paul was a few meters from the shoulders of Claudio Cosentino, grasp it with both hands, the stick. He was ready to strike the blow.
recognized immediately that "Click" had never listened to reality, I had written extensively in his stories. Ping, dry and short of gun dog that is raised. How many times had described the scene? Ten? Or more? The screen had seen thousands of times, it was one of her favorites: the protagonist is in danger to save the beautiful and there's someone behind her pointing a gun, or even a Colt Magnum forty-four best to impress the audience. "Click" and our hero, raises his hands caught with your finger into the jar of jam.
He understood there was no need of other words, the sound and the cold steel barrel that had been raised to her cheek was enough. Dropped the stick, his weapon with which was make his grand entrance on stage fell to the ground. Paul raised his hands slowly.
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