Page 11 of Murder at the Ponte Vecchio

‘That’s what I’m trying to find out. The most obvious thing I’ve found so far is that files are disappearing.’

This didn’t sound good at all. ‘But isn’t everything on computer these days?’

‘That’s the problem. Not only are hard copies of files going missing, but records are being wiped from the system.’

This was sounding ominous now. ‘What sort of records?’

He even managed an attempt at a wry smile. ‘That’s also the problem. The moment they disappear, they become almost impossible to trace. The first one I came across quite by accident two months ago. An asylum seeker was found stabbed to death at the main station, but it was never followed up. I only happened across it when I was checking a completely different case – the death of another asylum seeker – and saw it referenced. I’vespoken to the officer dealing with the first case and he confirms he logged it and handed in his report, but somehow, that’s gone missing. Then last month, almost exactly the same thing happened again – another stabbing and another file gone missing.’

‘But surely any officer who feels like it can’t just wipe a file without authorisation.’

He looked up at me, a haunted expression on his face. ‘That’s what’s worrying me, Dan; that sort of thing needs authorisation… or it’s being done by somebody high up. The more I look into it, the more convinced I’ve become that it’s being done by a senior officer.’

I began to see why he was looking so worried. ‘How senior?’

‘Inspector or above.’

‘What about somebody in IT?’

‘They need to use a special code every time they log in, and that keeps an exact record of what they’ve done and every file they’ve accessed. I’m no computer genius but, as far as I can see, the only person who could have done it has to be one of our senior officers.’

I sat there and thought hard. Virgilio now occupied an important position in the Florence force and there were probably no more than a handful of more senior officers between him and thequestore, the overall head of the force. There were probably slightly more officers at inspector level but the total would only amount to a dozen at most. This was serious. I looked across to see him staring glumly at his computer screen.

‘Do you have anybody particular in mind?’

He swivelled the laptop around so I could see the screen. There were photos of the five most senior officers there and he talked me through them.

‘Parmigiano, Verdi, Grande, Romano and thequestorehimself,Massimo Livornese. All senior officers. Thequestorehas been in post for ten years now, Parmigiano and Romano have each been here for over thirty years. The other two have transferred in from other forces over the last few years. I know all five and up till now, I’ve had absolute trust in them. Now I find myself doubting all of them and it’s driving me crazy. What do I do? I suppose I should go straight to the top and lay my suspicions before thequestore, but what if he’s the one? I could lose my job – or even my life – if he takes action to silence me.’ He looked at me over the top of the screen. ‘You see my problem?’

I certainly did. ‘What about officers at inspector rank?’

‘Five, three of whom are in areas like traffic or victim support. There are only two inspectors regularly involved with murder cases.’

And one of them was Marco. Suddenly, it became clear why Virgilio had been refusing to talk to his second-in-command about his suspicions. I decided to say it before Virgilio had to.

‘There’s Marco, but I would stake my life savings on him being straight. What about the other inspector? Do I know him or her?’

‘Roberto Faldo, he’s in murder as well but he tends to specialise in robbery. He joined us last year from Parma.’

‘Who’s your money on? The new boy, Faldo, or somebody more senior?’

He shrugged helplessly. ‘I’ve been trying to narrow it down and I’ve come up with three probables – although any of the others could still be in the running. I know thequestoreand I feel as sure as I can be that I trust him. Yes, he can be an awkward character, but I can’t see him betraying the force,hisforce. I know Parmigiano and Romano even better – we’ve pretty much grown up together and I would trust either of them with my life – so that leaves us with Verdi and Grande. At inspector level, there are thetwo: Faldo and, of course, Marco, although, like you, I can’t imagine Marco being involved in anything illegal.’

I gave it a few seconds and then asked the inevitable question. ‘So what’s your next step?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to decide. The more I think about it, I reckon I have to go straight to thequestore, don’t you?’ He caught my eye. ‘What do you think I should do, Dan? Did you ever come up against anything like this?’

The answer to this was yes, sort of. I had come across a handful of bent coppers in my time and I knew that no force was without them. I tried desperately to think what support I could offer my friend. ‘Yes, I’ve encountered rotten apples a few times but never at a very senior level. I remember a sergeant and four constables when I was in South-East London. They were running a very lucrative protection racket, milking shopkeepers for money every month. We’d heard rumours for ages, but every time we thought we were getting close to catching the perpetrators, the trail would go cold. In the end, the only conclusion we could draw was that it had to be an inside job. The boss assembled a small group of officers and swore us to secrecy. Between us, we kept a close eye on the affected premises until a uniformed constable popped up one day to collect. We followed him back to the station and managed to film him handing over the cash to the sergeant. After that, we were able to roll up the whole gang. Two of them got jail terms and all five were kicked off the force.’

As I was speaking, an idea occurred to me. ‘In the first instance, if you like, I could take a look at the main suspects. Give me their details and I’ll sit down at the computer and go through them one by one, looking into their personal lives, finances, backgrounds and so on. Normally, there’s a reason why an officer goes bad – gambling or other debts, marital troubles and the like – and I might just uncover something.’

Virgilio gave me a grateful look. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but I know you’re a whole lot better at this computer stuff than I am. Normally, I would just hand it over to our tech people, but I’ve no way of knowing if any of them are involved. That would be brilliant, Dan, if you can spare the time.’

I smiled at him in return. ‘That’s what friends are for.’

Although I was smiling, I was turning over in my head the possible ramifications if we were to discover something decidedly dodgy going on. Who could tell how far up the ladder the contagion might have spread?

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