Free Errant Angels by Stuart Fifield Page A

off, but only after she had enjoyed the thrill of his mouth touching hers, ‘can I at least get in and put the seatbelt on?’ She closed the door and clicked the seatbelt into position. ‘Okay … let’s go,’ she said as he turned the ignition key and the car purred into powerful, expectant life – very much as he had become aroused and full of expectation at her appearance. ‘Benito has had to go away. He phoned me this afternoon just after lunch and said he was leaving for Montecatini and would be back tomorrow. That’s a stroke of luck, isn’t it?’she said, placing her hand on the inside of his thigh.
    â€˜You mean to say that the assistant state prosecutor has the time to go to Montecatini and take the baths?’ asked Fossi, laughing.
    â€˜No, it is something to do with the two murders in Lucca, you might remember, a couple of months back. Anyway, it does not concern us,’ she said lightly, as she brushed her fingers over his arousal, before returning her hand to his inner thigh. ‘ That is of far more interest to us wouldn’t you say, amore ?’
    Renata di Senno had been married to her husband for nearly twenty years. As his star had steadily risen within the justice department, her sense of fulfilment with their union had diminished. She still felt great affection for him, but affection given and received was not enough for this hot-blooded COGOL diva. It was the sense of incomplete physical fulfilment which had eventually driven her to wander beyond the spacious confines of the grandiose Villa Legge , perched on the hills to the north of the city. The name of the marital home said it all – the Villa of the Law. Physical relations had become as routine and boring as a predictable court case.
    Riccardo Fossi took his eyes off the road and flashed a broad grin at her. He was reminded of their unspoken conversation around the Steinway – the talk involving Renata’s stretching exercises – and that boost to his ego pleased him enormously. So much so that he had to squirm in his seat to ease the pressure in his trousers. The other element that pleased him was derived from the potential danger of having a protracted affair with the wife of the assistant state prosecutor. This added frisson brought both physical and vocal heights to their energetic passion. If Assistant Prosecutor di Senno found out that his wife was having it off with one of Lucca’s most highly respected accountants that would be bad enough. What would make iteven worse – or more exciting, depending on your point of view – would be for him to discover that his wife’s lover was also discreetly involved in highly organized crime – lucrative, financial crime of the most subtle kind. Fossi found sailing that close to the strong arm of the law a big turn-on.
    â€˜Keep your eyes on the road, amore ,’ cooed Renata as the car sped through the northern city gate, ‘we don’t want to waste this opportunity by ending up at the hospital, do we?’

9
    Saturday dawned clear and bright. Nearly every morning in Lucca dawned clear and bright – even in the winter months. The flood of tourists had quickly choked Via Fillungo and would do so for the greater part of the day. In Café Alma Arte the Gaggia had been looked at yet again, but still managed the occasional spit and splutter in protest of its workload. Verriano had managed to navigate the early part of the morning without any further accidents and Gregorio Marinetti counted off another day on the calendar; only five days remaining before the screen would be collected and his financial status would improve.
    Outside Lucca, up in the hills, Assistant State Prosecutor di Senno had returned from Montecatini to find his wife dutifully supervising the activities of the cook in the kitchen of the Villa Legge. He had spent the whole of Friday in Montecatini, reviewing the details of certain cases