Zen and Me: Nadia
03 October 2011
The third story of the Zen and me trilogy is the same in as much as I have again taken Zen and his companions from Michael Dibdin's books and Andy Harries' films and created my own story . Although, I have take bits from Michael's books and from the films and created my own world, I never lose sight of the fact, Aurelio Zen is Michael Dibdin's creation and he is only mine on a temporary basis.
My thanks to Andy Harries for fighting a valiant losing battle with the BBC.
Enormous Gratitude as always to Rufus Sewell for bringing Zen to life and to Cosima Shaw as the man-hunting tiger. My thanks too, to Ben Miles, Ed Stoppard and Stanley Townsend for their part in creating Zen's magical world and to the much lamented Francesco Quinn. Although his character doesn't come into any of my stories, he was a pillar of the films.
In his books, Michael Dibdin often called Zen, 'Dottore", which in my ignorance of Italian, I assumed was a police rank. When I came to write my stories, I googled it to find that it is a title given to those who have a university degree. I thought it might be the sort of superior thing that Nadia would use.
I have given this an M rating because of some adult themes.
.
My song with this is, 'I can't get you out of my mind 'sung by Yvonne Elliman.
I Can't Get You Out 0f My Mind
I look at you and you look at me
Trying not to want what can't be
You're with my friend
And she holds your hand
Wasn't that supposed to be me?
Chorus
Oh baby I can't get you outta my mind
I don't know why you came into my life
I can't get you outta my mind, honest I try
You're there all the time
She never said and I never asked
How was I to know you weren't free?
She spoke of you but I never knew
That the other woman was me
Chorus
Oh baby I can't get you outta my mind
I don't know why you came into my life
I can't get you outta my mind
Honest I try you're there all the time
Each time I see her now I think of you
I don't what I'm gonna do.
I look into the eyes of someone new.
And there reflected is my love for you
.
The Smile on the Face of the Tiger
.
I had a call from the Attorney General's secretary. The Attorney General is my immediate boss. There was to be a meeting the next day at 7.30 am; I knew what it was about.
Yesterday, his office had a message from the prison service. Favellonni was appealing against his sentence.
Some months ago, Favellonni had been charged with the murders of several people including his employer. He had pleaded guilty.
He was sent down for a very long time.
Now he was appealing.
I arrived at 7.20am. The Attorney General was already there; as was Eduardo Guerchini, the Minister of the Interior and his principal assistant, Amadeo Colonna.
The Minister is our over-all boss.
Big Guns indeed!
No secretaries, so hush-hush.
"Come in, Nadia." my boss said. " You know what this is about?"
"The Favellonni appeal?"
"Mmm "
"But he pleaded guilty. How could he do otherwise?"
"He is appealing on the grounds that he is not guilty."
"Tchah" I said.
"Well, yes. However his appeal has been granted; the case is to be re-opened and re- investigated.
"It was an open and shut case. He was guilty."
"The case is to be re-investigated." The Minister said firmly. He looked at my boss, then Colonna and finally at me.
"I want someone who will do a thorough job and find him not guilty."
"I will discuss it with Superintendant Mascati, I'm sure he will be able to suggest someone," my boss said. Chief Superintendant Mascati is head of the Murder Squad.
"I want to know when you have found the right man." The Minister paused. "Favellonni is innocent and is to be cleared. As soon as possible. Is that clear?"
Very clear! There were connections. Though what the connection was between the Minister and a low life like Favellonni, who knows?
I doubt if we ever would.
The Minister glanced at his Attorney General, and my boss said "We needn't keep you any longer, Nadia"
I left them to go to my office where I sat and thought about things.
Why was the Minister so interested? Why was he so involved? And why involve me?
I am good, very good but there are two other Assistant Attorney Generals; both male and senior to me.
I am Nadia Pirio, a member of one of Italy's oldest and wealthiest families.
I am extremely clever, highly educated, and very ambitious. I am the first woman Assistant Attorney General and I intend to be the first woman Attorney General. The next Attorney General. And I am, as they say about me, a ball breaker.
I am thirty five,and unlike most Italian women, I am tall, and thin. The late Duchess of Windsor said "You cannot be too rich or too thin."
My sentiments exactly.
I am quite aware of my looks. I know I am good-looking, inheriting my family's amber eyes and honey-coloured skin and, although I admit to having a few lighter streaks put in, I am a natural blonde as the three men I have just left, could vouch.
And yes, I have slept with all three.
I like sex; I see no reason why I shouldn't enjoy it and achieve what I want. I have quite an appetite for men, particularly good-looking ones, but I can, and do, discard them without a second thought when I have finished with them.
I didn't sleep with the Minister to get my job. I already knew I had it, and on ability, but friends in high place never hurt anyone.
I didn't need to sleep with the Attorney General but it is best to keep on the right side of your boss, so I let him know discreetly I was available, if he was interested. He was; he still is, now and then.
Neither was it necessary to sleep with Colonna but he holds one of the highest, most influential positions in Government and his family is more than well connected to both the State and the Vatican. Elected government officials come and go but families like Colonna's, and mine, are the ones that run Italy.
I quite like Amadeo and while he gives the impression of being cold, he is quite vulnerable underneath, besides which, he is very good-looking and he is very good in bed.
I am discreet and if there is word about the men I have slept with, it did not come from me. As far as I am aware there is nothing known about me and the three men I have just left, not even between themselves. However, I do not think I would care if there was.
.
The green phone beside me rang. The Attorney General.
"Nadia, get Mascati over here, will you? This morning at ...shall we say 9.15am? My office. And Nadia, do it yourself."
More hush-hush.
When I had left the meeting earlier, I knew no more than before. The Minister wanted the Favellonni case re-opened and he wanted Favellonni out of prison. Mascati was to provide a senior officer to investigate. One of his more scrupulous ones.
If I didn't know, neither did Mascati.
So Mascati was in my office at 9.05am.
"Counsellor."
"Nadia." I corrected him gently. This man too, is powerful in his field and may be useful at sometime.
He nodded graciously. I have heard he is an old charmer when he chooses, and he has the most beautiful eyes.
"Nadia, do you have any idea what this about?"
"Superintendant, I think it is best that the AG tell you himself."
The green phone rang.
"Nadia, come in, and the Superintendant, of course. "
We went through.
"Ah, Mascati, you may have heard that Favellonni is to appeal."
Mascati wasted no time; he merely nodded and waited for our boss to explain more fully.
"His appeal has been granted and the case is to be re-opened. The Minister wants a top man to be in charge of the investigation. One who can be relied on for intelligent, thorough work, for integrity. You could suggest someone?"
Again, Mascati wasted no time with futile questions.
A little movement of his head and hand showed that he knew of someone.
"I would have to..."
"Of course. By the end of the day? Nadia will be in charge of the appeal. Please let her know as soon as you have decided. However, he will be working on his own, answerable ultimately to the Minister."
Mascati looked surmisingly at the AG.
"I have someone in mind. It is a matter of re-arranging work and so on."
My boss raised his eyebrow in query.
"Zen."
The AG narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in thought.
Two pairs of wary old eyes met and they nodded slowly at each other in agreement.
"He will, of course, find that Favellonni is completely innocent."
They nodded again.
Zen.
I have heard of him of course. How could I have not?
Anyone who has dealings with the Questura di Roma would have heard of him but I wanted to refresh myself.
So when Mascati had left, I went back to my office and asked for his file.
On my desk!
In fifteen minutes!
Maybe I am not so charming to women.
.
Zen
Aurelio Marcoh
Born: Venice
Age: 40
Married.
Educated: Venice. The University of Bologna. Graduated. Honours degree, Law
I raised my eyebrows...Dottore no less, and from Italy's oldest and most prestigious university!
Joined the Polizia on graduation at the age of 22
Father: police officer, killed in the line of duty.
Present Rank: Detective Chief Inspector, attached Rome division, Murder Squad
This is the third time Zen has risen to this rank: two demotions
.
I flipped the pages over to find out why
There followed a list of cases he has been involved in or had been instrumental in solving.
Curious! I thought over what I had heard.
A reputation for incorruptibility and honesty, coupled with intelligence, education and intuition.
One would think he would be nudging Mascati out of his post.
No reason why he should not.
He must have made a lot of enemies.
I threw his file on my desk.
Not my worry.
As long as he does what the Minister requires.
.
I heard from Mascati that Zen had been down in Sicily and that the Inspector has sewn up the case!
Favellonni had indeed been innocent! He would send Zen's report to my office and it would remain only for the formal presentation and finding for Favellonni at the Palazzo di Justizia.
My boss was not at the hearing but the Minister and Amadeo were, and Mascati.
I had the files before me: I had read them of course, but I idly flipped through them as the judge droned on, then I heard the clerk of court call Zen. I heard him give his name and rank before swearing the oath. I replaced the files on the table. It was only a formality, but I might as well listen to what the whizz kid has to report, in his own words.
I looked across the court room, through the motes dancing in the bright hot sunlight, and saw him.
He was standing in the witness box, his face was turned partly away from me, towards the judge. He was tall, broad, strongly built but slim, almost thin. He was pale skinned like most of us northern Italians and his hair, cut short, was a mass of black curls though, when the sun caught it, glints of silver shone here and there. He was wearing a navy blue suit, a white shirt, with a dark tie. Again, like us Northern Italians, who go for subtle elegance.
His voice was quite lovely, like having liquid caramel poured down your back. Maybe it was the Venetian undertones in it.
Favellonni's attorney spoke to him and he turned towards us at the Attorneys' tables and I saw his face for the first time.
It was as though I had been punched in the stomach.
My breath was forcibly expelled.
To say he was handsome would not be right.
He was not handsome.
He was beautiful.
Not in a feminine way but in the way of a Florentine marble, straight from the Uffizi, a Leonardo angel, Michelangelo's David, a Venetian prince
Straight black eyebrows over large eyes, a long straight nose, high cheekbones, a wide clean-cut mouth.
If I have seen such a beautiful man before, I really can't remember.
Beautiful, with an equally beautiful voice and... brains!
Lust clawed at my belly.
I did not hear the rest of his statement nor the judge's summary, finding for Favellonni. I was watching him.
Somehow, I was outside on the steps with the Minister and Amadeo; I handed my briefcase to my junior and waved him on. Then Amadeo turned to stop Mascati as he passed down the steps. "Minister, Nadia," he said. "You have met Chief Superintendent Mascati? And of course, Detective Chief Inspector Zen. "
The Minister nodded.
I said "Of course I have met Superintendent Mascati, but I have not met Inspector Zen."
Zen turned to me, I held out my hand and looked into his eyes, big, long thickly lashed, opalescent eyes that changed as I looked into them, gold, hazel, olive, no, emerald eyes.
He smiled.
A sweet, little boy smile.
And if he had said How about a shag? I would have said, Yes. Now? Here and now, on the steps of the Palazzo?
The Minister, Amadeo and I had drinks and lunch; I don't remember much of it, I wasn't paying much attention, my thoughts were elsewhere. I am very good at making conversation when my thoughts are somewhere else.
When I got back to my office, the court report of the Favelloni case was on my desk, typed up ready for my signature. I signed it and threw it in the basket for filing.
I looked at it for a moment and picked it up again and went along the corridor to the main office.
My Staff were studiously busy.
"Detective Chief Inspector Zen, I want what we've got on him."
"Er, Counsellor, I gave you his file..."
"Not the formal file. I want whatever we've got on him! Everything, every little whisper, gossip, tittle-tattle, what brand of tooth paste he uses. And I want it on my desk tomorrow morning."
I pushed my way back through the swing door.
I stopped outside, realising I still had the report in my hand and turning, pushed my Prada-shod foot to catch and hold the door open and I heard the rustle of relaxed breaths and bodies.
"Purrrr—rrrrrrrrrrrrraaaa-ooowww" someone purred and a soft ripple of laughter went around the room.
"The tiger's on the prowl." Another soft ripple.
"Gone to look out her leather basque and thigh boots."
"And her whip." Someone else sniggered.
"Zen?"
"Zen!"
"My,my! Isn't she the lucky one? He can bring his own handcuffs." A splutter of mirth.
"Do you think he knows?" Hiccups of laughter.
"Don't you think someone ought to tell the poor sod? Before she breaks his balls. "
I backed quietly out into the corridor before they noticed me.
I smiled to myself as I went back to my office.
I am not noted for my sense of humour but that little spatter amused me.
I don't think of myself as a dominatrix; I am not into giving or receiving pain but ... I do like to be in control.
And the idea of cuffing Detective Chief Inspector Zen rather appealed to me.
.
"Zen." The honeyed caramel voice said.
I had rung his office the day before. He was not in but I already knew that. He had an appointment with Amadeo but I did not want to speak to him.
"This is Assistant Attorney Pirio." I had said. "Inspector Zen please. Oh! He is not there? I need to speak to him urgently. I do not have his cellulare number. Could you give it to me, please?"
I rang him on his cell phone at 7.00am. this morning, while I was being driven to the airport.
And there he was at the other end.
"Ah, Inspector Zen, this is Nadia Pirio. Did I wake you?"
"Erph, No, no. I just got in from the gym." Liar, I smiled to myself.
"What can I do for you, Counsellor?"
"There are one or two things I need to discuss with you, Dottore. A few loose ends... can we meet?"
A little pause as he took in what I had called him.
"Of course."
"Can you make tomorrow? At my office? Let me see my diary. "
I rustled the pages; I was quite free or at least, there was nothing I couldn't cancel.
"Oh! Oh No, no I'm not free. Tst tst... except lunch time ... I can make it about 12.30. How about lunch?
Without stopping, I went, "Yes, tomorrow, 12-30. At the Imperiali?"
I heard his intake of breath. The Imperiali was one of the best and most expensive restaurants in the City.
"Er..."
"Don't worry Inspector, it can go on expenses."
"Er, um, I don't think Superintendent Mascati will pass the Imperiali on my expenses."
I let laughter creep into my voice
"Maybe not but it can go on mine. See you at 12.30 tomorrow."
I smiled as I put the phone down.
I could feel it.
The smile on the face of the tiger.
The hunting tiger.
.
I was waiting at my usual table, when he arrived.
No, I was not mistaken. He was just as I remembered him.
The throb started in my groin and the thrill of the chase pulled at my stomach.
I had chosen to wear my Versace, a little black dress. Straight, and almost fluid, it flowed and slipped around me in the most inviting way, and my four inch Louboutin heels made me as tall as he.
I rose to greet him. Our eyes and mouths were almost level.
"Dottore, I hope this was o.k. for you; I mean I hope you didn't feel it was in any way an order. It was just the only available time for me."
I rested my chin on my hand and smiled. He shook his head, "No! No, not at all."
We had hardly settled when the Minister and Amadeo arrived. They would eat here today, wouldn't they? Still, it didn't bother me.
They stopped briefly on their way to their table.
"Eduardo, Amadeo," I kissed them both. Of the four of us, it was Zen who was discomfited, but I noticed Amadeo's eyes flick from me to Zen and back.
We chose our meal.
"Dottore," I smiled at him. "I gather you have a degree in law from Bologna."
"Yes." but he wasn't with me; he was looking past me over my shoulder.
I turned. Vincenzo Fabri.
He has never attracted me, although he is good-looking enough.
"There were a few questions I wanted to ask you."
"Yes?"
He was watching Fabri.
Why is Zen so interested in him?
They do work together, of course.
I looked back again.
" Vincenzo. That is not his wife, is it?"
"No."
"It's Mascati's secretary, isn't it?"
"Yes."
She is good-looking enough, in her way, I suppose. A bit blowsy, although she tries hard to be smart. Someone should tell her that big breasted women should never wear satin blouses; it makes them look tarty: and a pencil skirt? With her hips?
She would look a lot better too, if she lost a few kilos.
"Are they having an affair?"
"I don't know." His tone was sharp. Obviously he disapproves.
"I wonder how they can afford this place."
"I don't know."
"Of course, his family have money and his wife's family too."
"Mmm."
"Now, about the Favellonni case," I watched him as I talked about the most minute inconsequential details, I could talk about minute details in my sleep, so I was able to look at his mobile face, with its dancing eyes.
Another immaculate white shirt. His wife, no he's separated, it must be his mother, takes a pride in his laundry. I smiled to myself. Would I care if it was his wife? Not really.
I idly wondered about undoing one or two buttons and sliding my hand in onto his chest. Does it have hairs on it?
My glance slid up his throat to his mouth, his lips, and moistened my own. Up to his eyes and, shit! He was still watching Fabri behind me. I am not used to this. I am used to men giving me their undivided attention.
He is not gay, is he? He is married and so is Fabri, but that means nothing. No, I would know; there would have been some hint in the ragbag of gossip I had been given. Besides, when he arrived, there had been that quick flicker of interest a man gives a woman.
No, he wasn't gay. I was sure.
I think that's enough for today.
Next time, I will make sure there are no distractions.
I put my fork down and dabbed my mouth slowly with my napkin.
"Well, we have sorted the Favellonni case out, there will be a compensation tribunal but that is not our problem. There is another thing I wish to speak to you about; I haven't the full details yet: perhaps next week?"
"I have to go to Venice at the end of the week." he interrupted.
"Family business, Dottore?"
"No, Police business; I have been seconded there to help with a case."
"Oh, it is nothing that won't keep till you come back. Well, that's all."
"Yes, yes "he said hastily.
"Can I drop you somewhere?" I said as I got into my taxi.
"Thank you, no. I have my car "
"Ah. Ciao, Dottore." I settled back into my seat
It seemed to have gone very well.
Mmm, yes.
Pity about Fabri being there, it seemed to bother Zen.
Still, on the whole, pretty good.
.
Mascati had had a heart attack. The Murder squad was floundering around while waiting for a new Super to be appointed.
I had a call from Zen.
"Attorney Pirio" he said. "I need a favour. Could you sign a warrant? "
"Sorry Dottore! I am on my way out."
"Oh! It is rather urgent."
"Mmm. I will be back about 8pm. Come to my apartment about 8.30m and I will see what I can do."
I gave him my address and put the phone down.
Picking it up again, I rang through to my secretary to bring me a cup of coffee, and put my feet up on my desk, lightly examining my legs, then made another call: to my beauty salon.
Yes, they could fit me in for a leg wax. I ummed and ahhed and made up my mind.
"Can you fit me in for a Brazilian too, Rosa? Thank you so much. I will see you in about twenty minutes then."
At eight o'clock, I was soaking in my bath. I had everything ready. In the salon, two glasses with a bottle of a good wine chilling in an ice bucket.
I stepped out of my bath. My light honey tan is very carefully nurtured out on my balcony, nude, so there are no white bikini marks. My favourite body lotion and perfume were waiting. I pulled on my Agent Provocateur gold silk thong: no bra, my breasts are more than good enough to go without. And I did my face and my hair.
I had just finished when the doorbell rang. I pressed the button which released the catch.
I gave him a minute or two, then called,
"Zen? Pour us drinks, would you? Make yourself comfortable. I sha'n't be two minutes."
I slipped into my favourite Valentino silk lounging pyjamas. I feel so good in it. One piece, with a low draped front and an even lower draped back, it only stays on because of its exquisite cut; and stepped into my gold strappy heels.
I looked with satisfaction in the mirror and went out to him.
He was sitting on the couch and stood as I came in.
"Sit down, Dottore."
I took my glass from him and sat sideways next to him, my foot under me, my knee almost touching his thigh. I sipped my wine and leant my elbow on the back of the couch, then rested my forearm along it.
My fingers were just behind the little curl at the nape of his neck and I resisted the urge to play with it.
"Er, Counsellor," he hesitated. "I need a warrant signed. The case I am on; the Fratini case. The Super was to have signed it but, of course..." he stopped again.
"He is in hospital."
"Yes, so "
"You want me to sign it?" I smiled. "Is it so urgent? Essential? I thought it was an open and shut case.
"Well, yes, but," he paused, "Counsellor"
"Nadia."
"Um, Nadia, I am sure there something we're missing. I need this warrant to get into some accounts"
"Drink your wine, it's very good. We can talk about it. Tell me about yourself. You have a degree in law from Bologna. The best! Why didn't you go into law? Why the police?"
He turned to look at me.
Lord, those eyes and those eyelashes.
"Forgive me if I am blunt, Counsellor, but I have always thought the legal profession to be as corrupt as those they defend."
"And the police are not?" he shrugged and got out his cigarettes.
"Do you mind?"
"Yes." He tipped his head and put them away.
"Or was it because of your father?"
He did not answer.
"Are you ambitious? I can help you."
I moved a little closer and my top slipped lower showing a little more of my bosom as I knew it would. His eyes looked down and flicked away fast. But he knew what I meant.
"I am married, Counsellor."
"I was told you were separated; getting divorced."
He rubbed his nose; he obviously felt awkward
"And that you're unattached."He bit his lip. "Are you gay, Inspector?"
His mouth dropped open a little and his eyes widened. He hadn't expected that.
"Uh, No! No. I have a girlfriend " he petered off.
"I understood there was no-one. "
"Uh ...it is new."
I looked at him
"Well? Does it matter?" my tone was amused. "It doesn't to me."
"Um Counsellor, um... I am not into treachery."
I raised my eye brows.
"Treachery? How quaint."
I studied him for a minute.
"No? No?"
He stood, twisting his mouth to bite his lip again.
I got up and went out onto my balcony, grasping the rail.
He was turning me down.
"Forgive me Counsellor, do you think you might sign...? No, perhaps not."
Was that cynical amusement in his voice?
"Get out. Shut the door behind you! "
I heard the click and looked down at my hands with their white knuckles and screamed a barely heard scream of rage at the back of my throat.
I went back inside and emptied my glass in one draught. His was empty, I noticed.
I went into my bedroom. I stood for a minute, seething.
He had turned me down!
Me!
I looked for something to throw; I was furious with humiliation and frustration
I pushed my lounger off my shoulders so it fell to the floor, I stepped out of it and kicked my sandals off and across the room, and the heap of silk after them. Then I dropped my thong and opening the night table drawer, I took out my rabbit vibe and lube.
.
I heard by way of Amadeo that the Fratini case, was wound up. He told me too, that Superintendent Mascati would not be returning to post and that Chief Inspector Hueber from the Questura di Milano had been appointed in his place.
Hueber and I had met before: several times.
A hypocritical sanctimonious prick.
.
The next I heard of Zen was the Miletti kidnapping case; although I cannot say it was the first time I thought of him.
"You don't want to know." Amadeo told me.
We had been to the opera, official, and were having a pre-bed drink, unofficial, at my place.
"Their lawyer was to hand over the money; they shot him, took the money and didn't give up the old man. It is in the hands of the Murder Squad now."
"Hueber?"
"Hmm? No. The Minister has asked that Zen should handle it."
"Hah! I bet that pleased Hueber."
I hated Hueber with a vengeance; loathsome slimy creep.
"Is the Minister involved?"
"You don't want to know unless it comes before you in court. "
I looked at him questioningly but he was looking down into his glass. Knowing when to pull back is one of the keys to successful acquiring of information: successful acquiring of almost anything.
There is time enough and plenty.
I ran my finger around his ear.
"Amadeo, I don't want to know anything but when you are going to suggest we move to my bedroom. "
.
Five or six days later, I was woken up by my telephone ringing. I looked at my clock. 2.20am
Christ! Who was ringing me at this time?
It was Amadeo!
"Nadia! Get yourself down to the Questura as soon as you can. "
"Trouble?"
"Big trouble! Hueber has arrested Zen!"
"What?... What charge?"
"The Miletti kidnapping ... paying the ransom."
"Does the AG know?"
"Yes, I've told him, and the Minister."
Zen was in one of the interview rooms. He was seated at a table, Hueber before him, two uniformed officers behind him. His face was bruised and grazed and he had the start of a stubble. His usually immaculate shirt was dirty and torn at the collar and the lapel of his jacket was hanging off. He had been knocked about. Even so, it did not detract from his looks. He was still beautiful.
The Minister, the AG and Amadeo were already there. The Minister looked fraught; Amadeo expressionlessly grey. Only Zen looked unconcerned.
Hueber was ranting on. Zen said nothing.
"For God's sake, get him out of here!" the Minister said to my boss; he meant Hueber.
The AG took Hueber by the arm and they went out.
I took the opportunity to hiss to Zen,
"Don't think you're going to get any help from me."
He looked up at me in wide–eyed surprise.
"Oh? And I was going to give you Hueber's head on a platter." Was he laughing?
"Clown!" I hissed again.
Eduardo and Amadeo were muttering by the door as the AG pushed against it, returning with Hueber who was carrying a briefcase.
Amadeo leant over Zen
"Aurelio, I cannot help you." he murmured softly: there was something in his voice, almost like a supplicant, maybe apprehensive.
Huber was ranting again.
"Disgrace to the force. Do you deny that you attempted to pay kidnappers a ransom?"
"I certainly do."
Huber was purple with apoplexy.
"How can you?" throwing the case on the table."Open it" he snarled. Zen twirled the locks and Hueber snatched the top wrenching it open with such force that its contents flew across the table onto the floor. We all stared stunned at the pieces of newspaper and magazines as they fluttered down.
"But ...but" he spluttered, "You arranged with the kidnappers to pay them, you said ...5 million Euros."
Zen looked at him in surprise.
"It is against the law to negotiate with kidnappers." he said innocently. I looked suspiciously at him; was it too innocent?
.
They found old man Miletti dead. His daughter was distraught. No, not about her father, she was distraught about her brother who had killed him. Her husband and the lawyer's wife were found dead: car crash. Zen brought it all together. Everything cleared up nicely.
Then a shooting in the City brought scandal to the force.
Zen.
He and Tania Moretti, the Superintendant's secretary had been having an affair and her husband had shot himself over it.
Hueber was swift to revenge.
I heard that he had sacked her and Zen for immorality and bringing the force into disrepute.
Tania Moretti.
Hadn't she been Mascati's secretary before Hueber.
Surely she was the one we saw with Vincenzo Fabri in the Imperiali. The fat one.
It clicked. It wasn't Vincenzo that Zen was so interested in that day. It was her!
Bastard!
Perhaps that wasn't fair. He didn't know I was interested and when he did, he told me he was involved with someone, straight away.
So... Hueber had sacked him.
Almost immediately, the Minister reinstated him.
"After all, adultery isn't illegal, or a lot of people would be inside."
"Including you." I thought.
The Moretti woman chose not to return to the Questura but was returning to her home town.
.
Zen was sent to Venice on a case. When he got back, he fell immediately into the Ruspanti case.
Poor Ludo!
Neither he nor his family was ever able to hold on to their money. There was always something dodgy, something iffy, that he seemed to be involved with.
I am sorry he felt he had to do what he did but I am very glad none of his scams ever came to court.
It would have been very difficult to prosecute one of one's own sort of people.
Later, Amadeo told me that Ruspanti's case was wound up. A simple case of suicide.
He told me too that Hueber had been charged. Wrongful accusation of corruption and illegal activities, wrongful dismissal and assault of a junior officer.
Nothing that would get him sacked but certainly demoted and transferred to some backwoods department.
He was to be brought before a Polizia Court Martial.
.
I was one of the three Presiding Officers.
I cannot deny it was sweet.
What was it Zen had said?
'I was going to give you Hueber's head on a platter. '
And I thought he was joking.
.
Eduardo and Amadeo sat to the rear of the room. Although the court martial of such a high ranking officer was very serious, I would not have anticipated the presence of two such important government officials.
Zen was called to give his report.
He sat in front of us.
I wish I could say I was no longer interested but that would not be true.
He was as beautiful as ever and I wanted him as much as before.
He read his report.
The Chief of Police said "Just a few questions, to clarify matters, Chief Inspector Zen.
"Did the family ask you to pay a ransom?"
"No sir."
Did the family give you money to pay the ransom?"
"No sir."
"But when the kidnappers demanded another five million, you agreed, as a trap?"
"Yes sir."
"You always intended to use paper?"
Zen smiled.
"Where would I get five million Euros?"
He moved his hand to scratch his knee. This, I have noticed, is a habit of his.
I watched it: he has beautiful hands.
.
I could see them outstretched, the blue satin ribbon tying them to my headboard contrasting with their tan. His eyes were closed with those ridiculously long lashes lying on his cheeks. I nibbled his lips and then kissed and took his ear in my mouth, my tongue licking and pushing into it. He groaned. I blew my way down his chest running my finger from his knee up his thigh, sideways along the valley of his groin. His breathing was hard now.
I brushed my nipples upwards along his side. I licked and kissed his nipples till he groaned again.
I straightened and reached for the bottle of Prosecco Spumante that was chilling in the icebucket on the night table. I eased the cork out and with my thumb over the top, shook it hard and let the cold froth fizz in the hollow at the base of his neck, down below his ribs to his concave belly till it filled his navel, pouring until it ran down the runnels that led down his groin from his hips.
Fizzing, bubbling, sparkling, icy cold.
He gasped and moaned. I bent over him and licked every drop, from his throat, from his belly, his navel, from both sides of his groin.
Still holding the bottle, I straddled him and took a deep mouthful of the wonderful icy fizz. I bent over him with my mouth on his and slowly let the wine run from my mouth into his, letting my tongue slip in with it.
I lifted my mouth to murmur "How do you like that Dottore? Would you like me to do it anywhere else? Like" I ran my fingers down his belly along the fine line of hairs that led to strong springing bush at his crotch.
"Here? Or what about this?"
I slid the cold, cold bottle up along his thighs.
A sharp in intake of breath." Bitch!"
I laughed "Yes."
"Shall I untie you?"
I undid the ribbon on one hand with my teeth and slowly moved my mouth across his arm, across his cheek, on his mouth, across to the other ribbon and pulled that free. He has such beautiful hands, big, strong and shapely.
My eyes met his and I fell drowning into the green depths of them.
There was a murmur of a voice.
He raised his eyebrows.
"Counsellor?"
My eyes still held his.
He looked questioningly back.
I could see his hand resting on his knee.
"Counsellor" The Chief of Police repeated. "Is there anything you would like to ask?"
" Er... er no. Thank you, no."
"Thank you, Inspector. That will be all."
He got up and walked to the rear of the room and sat down beside the Minister and Amadeo.
I stored that fact at the back of my mind to mull over later, together with the fact that I had been fantasising about him in the middle of a case.
Hueber was demoted, of course, and was to be transferred to another region.
The Minister, my boss the AG, and Amadeo were talking on the steps of the Palazzo when I left the building. The AG beckoned to me. I had just joined them when Zen left the court house and came down the steps.
"Call him." the Minister said to Amadeo.
"Aurelio" he said as Zen joined us. "You will be glad to know that when he is well, Superintendant Mascati will be resuming his position at the Questura."
"That is good news, sir."
"Yes. In the meanwhile, I am appointing an officer to act up. You."
The look on his face was comical; he was not expecting that. Neither was I.
A few more pleasantries and Zen was dismissed.
As he moved away, I excused myself and went after him. I caught his arm.
"You always manage to land on your bloody feet, don't you?" I hissed.
His eyes danced. "Maybe," he said. "but my feet hurt."
I paused.
"My offer still stands, dottore."
Our eyes met for a moment, then he saw someone.
"Excuse me Counsellor, there's someone I have to speak to."
Who?
Favelloni! He was climbing the steps towards us.
Of course, today was the hearing to decide the amount of his compensation for wrongful imprisonment.
They spoke briefly.
Zen moved on down. I watched as he ran lightly down the steps. He put his hands in his pants pockets, the fabric pulling tight across his hips, emphasizing the movement and strength of his thighs.
I smiled.
I could feel it.
The smile on the face of the tiger.
Oh! I am going to have you, Zen.
Sooner or later, I will have you.
.
Three lovely and very different ladies: Tania, Arianna, and Nadia.
Three questions.
Will Tania ever come back?
Will Arianna ever be a Lady of the Morning?
Will Nadia ever manage to have Zen?
Answers on a postcard to Danny Cohen c/o the BBC, with my compliments.
.
Acknowledgement.
To Rufus Sewell
Not content with taking his looks, rampaging and pillaging through his work, I have now taken to using his personal mannerisms, actions and property.
(Rooftoppers, how many can you spot?)
I have even stooped to stealing his comments.
Two of phrases I have used about Zen are his:-
"Just an ordinary sort of bloke."
And
"He might land on his feet but his feet hurt."
Thanks, Roof! You are not just a pretty face!
.