“A few, I suppose. But have a look at the other patrons in this establishment.”
Gabriel glanced around the interior of the little café. Four other tables were occupied, all by plainclothes Carabinieri officers. “What about the heartthrob behind the bar?”
“His name is Angelo. He’s a great kid. Everybody loves him.”
“Where have I heard that before?”
Angelo the beloved barman placed two coffees on their table and withdrew. Rossetti added sugar to his and stirred it slowly. He seemed in no hurry to be on his way.
“We’ve been digging through those documents that your girlfriend stole from SBL PrivatBank.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, Luca. But please continue.”
“Two names appear over and over again. Interestingly enough, these names appear frequently in our files as well, not to mention the files of our colleagues at the Guardia di Finanza.”
“And they are?”
“Nico Ambrosi and Piedmont Global Capital.”
“The Milan firm that was part of the London real estate deal?”
Rossetti nodded. “Ambrosi and his firm are one of SBL’s biggest clients. He feeds hundreds of millions into the bank’s investment funds each year and borrows hundreds of millions to finance real estate and development deals all over Europe.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Except that everyone seems to think Nico’s money is dirty.”
“How dirty?”
“Camorra dirty,” replied Rossetti. “And he’s working hand-in-glove with his friend Franco Tedeschi to launder and invest the Camorra’s money.”
“Why is he still in business?”
“Regrettably the Guardia di Finanza has never been able to make a case against him. Nico has friends in high places, including at the Vatican. Or so it is said.”
“By whom?”
Rossetti shrugged his shoulders but said nothing.
“What aren’t you telling me, Luca?”
“That your friend Martin Landesmann knows how to spot a bad deal on a balance sheet. After reviewing all of the underlying documents, General Ferrari and I agree that there was something wrong with the purchase of that office building in London. And with SBL’s decision to forgive the loan as well,” added Rossetti. “We are of the opinion that the transaction warrants further investigation, as are our associates at the Guardia.”
“I wish you and your associates well, Luca. But my work here is done.”
“Almost.”
Rossetti left a banknote on the table and they went into the street, followed closely by the other four officers. From somewhere over the Ligurian came the faint beating of a helicopter rotor. The lights appeared a moment later.
“Your chariot has arrived,” said Rossetti.
“I hope the pilot knows what he’s doing.”
“Apparently this is his first flight.”
“Just my luck.”
The helicopter alighted on Ventimiglia’s beachfront esplanade. Gabriel waited until the rotor had slowed nearly to a stop before carrying his fragile cargo aboard. He strapped himself into a seat and looked at the youthful pilot.
