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back a month later. Same deal. Another envelope with five thousand euros. Another shipment from Pakistan. Just look the other way and sign the documents. He asked if Betta was okay, as he hadn’t seen her recently. He was watching our apartment. She was at your mother’s in Parma for a couple days. Remember? Serena was there as well.”

  “I remember.” Gianni’s story was getting more complicated; he had apparently taken another bribe. Where did this end?

  “The shipment came. I signed the paper and gave it to my supervisor, who signed without reading it. The container was put in a warehouse for delivery. It was also going to Milano. I felt guilty, but I’d already spent the money he’d given me before. I was tempted by the money.”

  “Everyone has a price, Gianni,” Marco said, restraining his anger. He had to hear the rest of the story, which he suspected was more incriminating for Gianni. “Some people are corrupted by money. For others it’s sex, a new car, a promotion, or a better job. People are tempted by what they don’t have.”

  Gianni nodded, head lowered. He dropped his cigarette onto the gravel and squashed it with his shoe.

  “What was in the shipment? You had the manifest.”

  “The paperwork said bicycle parts and clothes from China. Machine parts from Pakistan.”

  “There was something else in there.”

  “I know, but I didn’t inspect.”

  “Does Betta know what you did?”

  “No!” he said, raising his head, reacting as if he’d been slapped on the face. “If she did, she’d kill me! She’s angry with me . . . we’re . . . having problems. Marital problems. I’m sure she’s told you.”

  Marco leaned back and took a moment before he answered. Betta had mentioned that Gianni had been acting strangely the last few weeks, distant and sullen. But he didn’t want to let Gianni know Betta was confiding in him. “She did mention that you were worried about something. I called you a month ago, but you didn’t return my call.”

  “I’m know. I’m sorry. I was afraid to tell you. But after . . . this week . . . I knew I had to see you.”

  Marco blinked. There was more. “What happened?”

  Gianni looked away, pinching his forearm with his fingers like he wanted to rip off his skin. He reached for his Marlboro Rossa package but then stopped, stuffing it back into his pocket. “Mimmo was back Tuesday.”

  “Another bribe?”

  Gianni shook his head. “Not a bribe. A threat.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He asked if I thought Anita was safe at her school. He said that the walls around the playground have a breach; someone could reach in and grab a child. He was trying to scare me, Marco. And he did. I was terrified! Someone grabbing Anita? I couldn’t sleep for nights after that.”

  Marco held his breath. He and Serena loved Anita almost like their own child. Serena was Anita’s godmother. They had been at the hospital when she was born and had taken care of her so Gianni and Betta could have a weekend vacation before Davide was born. “You should have called me immediately. I could have had an officer there in minutes. We could have arrested him.”

  “It happened so fast. I was angry, and I was afraid for the kids. I wanted to hit him. He said another shipment was coming next week. If I didn’t let it through, something might happen to Betta or one of the kids.”

  A warm breeze from the harbor rustled the towering palm trees in the park, making a soft scratching sound above their heads. A dried palm frond drifted to the ground, landing at Marco’s feet. Marco was furious at what he was hearing: his brother-in-law admitting he had taken bribes, his family threatened. Possibly Marco’s own sister’s life was in danger. How could Gianni have been so foolish?

  “You’re in trouble, Gianni. So is your family.”

  “Can you help me, Marco, please?” he begged, finally looking at Marco, tears running down his cheeks into his scruffy, unshaven beard. “I don’t know what to do.” He wiped tears away with a knuckle, embarrassed by his confession. He lowered his head into his hands, leaned over, and started to sob.

  Marco took out his cell phone. “I’m going to call the vice questore immediately. He might want to send an officer to your apartment to see if this Mimmo comes back. But you have to tell your story to a prosecutor.”

  Gianni made a sorrowful moan, like he’d been kicked in the belly. “Oh, no . . . do I really—”

  “Yes. And you’re coming to the Questura with me tomorrow for questioning. We’ll need a statement about everything you told me.”

  Gianni uttered another moaning wail, turning away from Marco so he couldn’t see his face.

  * * * * *

  Jack Erickson is the author of thrillers, mysteries, and romantic 

  suspense novels.  In earlier careers, he was a US Senate speechwriter, Washington-based editor, free lance writer for the Washington Post, Washington Star, and Washingtonian Magazine.  

  He is also the author and publisher of five books about the early days of the 

  craft brewing industry.  His first book, Star Spangled Beer: A History

  to America's New Microbreweries and Brewpubs, became a classic and

  was named  the best self-published book in 1987.

  Erickson travels extensively in Italy and spends summers in Milan

  researching his thrillers.   He lives in northern California with his wife.  

  Erickson’s Milan DIGOS thriller series and his other books are available on your ereader, smartphone, or tablet.

  Rex Royale

  A Streak Across the Sky

  Mornings Without Zoe

  Blood and Money in the Hunt Country

  Perfect Crime

  Teammates

  Missing Persons

  The Stalker

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  www.jackerickson.com