IN THE QUIET JUNGLE

Another story in my series about the women through whose lives Detective Chief Inspector Zen wanders. This is the second story involving Nadia Pirio, the wildly ambitious , man eating Assistant Prosecutor General.

Aurelio Zen was created by Michael Dibdin and I only borrow him for my own entertainment.

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My Thanks, as ever, go to Rufus Sewell, for his creation of the delightful Zen, to Cosima Shaw, for her wonderful Nadia , and to Stanley Townsend, he of the beautiful dark eyes.

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The song I have chosen to go with this is 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' by Peretti, Weiss and Creattore.

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The Lion Sleeps Tonight

In the jungle, the mighty Jungle

The lion sleeps tonight.

In the Jungle, the quiet Jungle

The lion sleeps tonight.

Near the village, the peaceful village.

The lion sleeps tonight.

In the village, the quiet village

The lion sleeps tonight.

Hush! My darling, don't fear, my darling

The lion sleeps tonight.

Hush! My darling, don't cry my darling .

The lion sleeps tonight.

Oh ohoho Wim e weh, Wim e weh

Wim e weh , Wim e weh, wim e weh

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IN THE QUIET JUNGLE

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I surveyed my ceiling through half-closed eyelids and thought about the man beside me in my bed.

He is tall, slim almost thin, a good body though, well toned .

His hair, clipped short, is thick and curly, black but with a good dusting of grey .

Only to be expected at his age, I suppose .

Forty-ish ? Yes, a nice, been-around, forty-ish, with all the ease of manner and sophistication that that age brings.

He is good looking in the patrician sort of way, a long straight nose, large eyes which are closed now in relaxed satisfaction. A wide shapely mouth.

We had been, separately, to an official function. We were leaving at the same time and he had offered me a lift home. I had accepted .

I had offered him coffee. He had accepted.

We both knew where it would lead .

We had been down that route before, several times.

And very enjoyable it always is too.

He is a charming, sophisticated, experienced lover.

But I had manoeuvred it.

Not that he had needed much manoeuvring !

We both had known where the evening would end , even though I had another motive.

But the time has to come for what that motive was

I turned onto my side and propped myself on my elbow and looked at him. He was lying on his back,

I rubbed his breastbone with my forefinger, feeling the crisp hairs roll under it.

"A friend of yours came to see me the other day."

"A friend of mine?"

Without opening his eyes, he raised his eyebrows maybe a millimetre or so.

"Mm hmm."

I waited. Playing with his hairs, walking my fingers down to his navel...

It came.

"And who would that be ?"

"Arianna."

A pause.

"Arianna? Arianna von Falconheim?"

" If you say so."

A longer pause, though he still made no move.

I waited again.

I ran my finger down, circling his navel,

"Your friend ."

" She is hardly a friend of mine."

He waited .

Were we playing cat and mouse? I smiled to myself.

"What's this all about, Nadia ?"

Was that the smallest sign of irritation?

Another tiny smile to myself.

" You know very well that she is an escort employed the Department. "

"An escort? Ah! An euphemism ? "

He made a little sound of annoyance and opening his eyes, half turned away from me.

" On occasions, when official functions are male heavy, she is engaged by the Department as an escort." he said coldly.

"A prostitute ?"

" She is engaged as an escort! If she does anything else , that is between her and … whoever.

It is nothing to do with me, the Department, or you.

Prostitution is not illegal in Italy."

I was enjoying this .

Me, Nadia Maddalena Pirio, Assistant Attorney General, and he, Amadeo Oliviero Colonna, one of the country's most senior civil servants, second only to the Minister of the Interior.

As we are both aware, perhaps he is more powerful than the Minister. He controls the Department, feeds information and advice to the Minister but the Minister's is a Government appointed position and so he could be thrown out at any time; whereas Amadeo ... the job is his as long as he wants it.

And he has connections which run deep into the government, into High Finance and into the Vatican.

Here we are, offspring of two of Italy's oldest and wealthiest families, in my bed.

Discussing legalities? Perhaps Amadeo is : and I ? Maybe not!

I wanted to know why this woman had come to my office with the most trivial of inquiries

A triviality? Maybe.

But all knowledge is power. Even the most trivial.

I had learned that at my mother's knee .

And I intend to be powerful. Very powerful.

"So she is?"

"I really have no idea, Nadia."

Hmm. I wonder? Does the gentleman protest too much?

I moved closer and began to rub each knob of his spine, tiny butterfly touches, one at a time, moving downwards.

If nothing else came out of this, he might rise again to the occasion.

Oh yes, he is well able to do so.

I know; from experience.

I blew gently on his shoulder.

" What do you know about her? "

"Not much ." He was curt.

" She told me her name was di Saronna. "

He was still.

" I believe … er ... she uses Arianna on its own professionally; von Falconheim is her adopted surname. . and ... Di Saronna is her family name though she does not use it."

Surprised, I said , " the Florentine di Saronnas?"

The Colonnas and the Pirios may have been lording it in Rome for the past four hundred years but the di Saronnas had been feuding with the de Medicis in Florence for two hundred years before that.

He tipped his head in a small nod.

I was impressed; and surprised!

Oh, not that a member of such a wealthy old family should be an 'escort'. No, several members of both our families, and Amadeo's for that matter, have been , how shall I put it? Courtesans .

No, I was surprised that the information had slipped under my radar.

" Do you know this for a fact?"

Again the hesitation.

He swung his legs out to sit on the side of the bed.

"Yes…yes ." The irritation showed now.

"You sure ? "

"My family have known hers for years, I have only known her for a few years. Not well. She's quite a few years younger than me."

" Does she have 'connections'?"

'Connection' has only one meaning in our work.

The Cosa Nostra.

He snorted, a little scornful sound. He put on his briefs and reaching for his pants, stood to pull them on .

"Everyone engaged by the Department is vetted to the highest standard."

"You had better be sure, Amadeo. She was asking about Zen. It could mean his death sentence. "

He turned a stunned face towards me and sat back down on the bed.

" Jesus Christ!"

Detective Chief Inspector Aurelio Marco Zen, of the Polizia Roma, Murder Squad, a prime witness in the forthcoming show trial of the Mafia Corleone family

Missing, presumed dead, as they say.

At present, somewhere in Italy, under Witness Protection, after three attempts had been made on his life.

An officer of intelligence and integrity, endowed with wit and an amused cynical view of the world; he is never dishonest or corrupt though he is not above using downright underhanded methods when he feels them appropriate.

No-one sees fit to give a description of his personal appearance.

He is tall, strongly built, black curly hair sparkling with silver; he has all the beauty of a Michelangelo marble, long straight nose, amazing green eyes and his mouth… well, that's the picture.

And yes yes, I Nadia Pirio, Assistant Attorney General have the hots for him.

Yes, he knows it.

He had declined my proposition very politely, almost charmingly.

Later, I had broken several things in frustrated rage, but I do not give up easily.

I am a very determined woman.

I intend to bed the inspector .

Oh, yes!

And I'd rather it is sooner than later.

"What did you tell her ?"

"He was dead… that is the official line ... ... you don't think….?"

"No! but we don't want anyone even thinking about Zen until your office is ready."

No. I didn't want that either .

All I want is to make things uncomfortable for that little red-headed bitch who got the better of me in my own office.

"How close to trial are you ?"

" More or less ready, except for a few minor details . As soon as the Judiciary gives us a date, we can go ahead ."

He picked up his shirt and stood.

"Are you going?"

" I have to make an early start now. Things to do. Get the Judiciary to find a window in the Assizes diary as soon as possible ; get onto Witness Protection ; "

He shrugged.

"It is time Zen came home."

"You think that she …"

"Not for a minute." he interrupted. " But it is best to be on the safe side.."

A little frisson ran around me.

Zen back in Rome!

Yes ! The thrill of the chase was there beginning to stir in my belly .

I studied Amadeo .

He was a most attractive man , maybe not quite the high excitement value of Zen, but perhaps that was because he is attainable and Zen is not.

Still, I like achieving the unattainable.

"Why aren't you married, Amadeo?"

He looked back at me as he tucked his shirt in and buckled his belt.

" I might ask you the same. Or is that a proposal?"

I turned onto my back and laughed .

"No!"

No: but perhaps it is something for me to consider. Sometime.

He has money, an old name, position, connections ; he has looks, charm and he is good in bed, though I somehow have the idea that he might expect fidelity in his marriage.

And children!

Neither of which is on my agenda.

Still, both objects could be got around.

I am smart, and discreet.

He slipped on his jacket, tucked his tie into its pocket and bent to brush my mouth with his. I smiled at him.

He raised his eyebrow.

"It was good for you ?"

It was only a formality. He knew. I smiled again.

"It was good."

" Ciao, cara."

"Ciao, Amadeo."

. * * * * *

Three days later, I had a 6. 30 am meeting with the Attorney General , Chief Superintendent Mascati and some members of the Judiciary. A date to go to trial was set. I returned to my office and going through some of the papers, found that there were several things that I had wished to discuss with Mascati.

I picked up the phone .

I thought .

I could ask him to come over; then on the other hand, I could go to the Questura .

Why not ?

A stroll through the streets while they were still fresh, might be pleasant . And before eight o'clock, who knows what I might surprise at the Questura?

The building was still quiet.

I took the lift to the fourth floor. None of the murder squad were in yet, the offices empty and dim.

Mascati's office was at the end of the main corridor. My heels clacked on the tiles until silenced by the carpet of his secretaries' office. I crossed it to Mascati's sanctum. The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it gently open . Someone was leaning over the desk, his back to me, propped on one arm, his body curved sideways, intent on examining some papers.

Ah, Mascati.

But no!

The broad shoulders stretched his white shirt to a narrow waist and slim hips with long legs, one foot crossed over the other. Just above his collar, a black curl lay in the nape of his neck.

No . Not Mascati !

Mascati's backside is almost twice the size of the one before me.

"Buon Giorno, Detective Inspector!"

Startled, he swung around so fast he almost fell over.

"Back in the land of the living, I see."

"Good morning , Assistant Attorney General. "

He looked a bit discomforted.

Good, I smiled to myself. Keep him on the hop. Before he regains his composure.

" Is Chief Superintendent Mascati around?"

"Er… yes… He's …um… somewhere " his voice trailed away.

I leaned against the door to click it shut, put my briefcase and handbag on the desk and moved around him to Mascati's chair.

I put my hands lightly on his hips as I squeezed past him. I am tall, in heels almost his height and my eyes and mouth were on a level with his.

I could have gone around the other side of the desk, there was more room but why make it easy for him? Besides, I enjoyed it.

I sank into the chair and swung my legs up on to the desk. I crossed my feet and turned them to admire my Ferrogamo beige suede 10 cm heels . Of course, I wasn't really admiring my shoes. After all, I have seen them many times: I was neatly drawing Zen's attention to the length of my rather good legs. Yes , he was looking.

"You are well now, Dottore?"

"Er yes , thank you . Um the Superintendent won't be long. Is there anything I can help you with ?"

He was pulling on his jacket.

"No-o " I said regretfully. "Ready for court?"

"Er …um Yes.. I was going over my deposition…."

"Ah, Assistant Attorney."

It was Mascati.

"What can I do for you? Did we forget something earlier?"

"Yes, one or two things."

We had finished going over my queries and I was folding my papers into my briefcase.

" Dottore, what do you know of an Arianna?"

He pursed his lips in thought.

" Arianna? Arianna?" he tipped his head as in thought, but his eyes were wary.

"Mmmm. She came to my office, while you were away. Arianna… Arianna von Falconheim."

"Von Falconheim? I don't think…. Arianna von Falconheim."

He blew out a considering breath while slowly shaking his head.

"No-o."

"She was asking after you."

"No -no-" he held up his hands in disclaim.

I persisted

"Arianna? Arianna di Saronna?

She is sometimes engaged as an escort by the Department?"

He gave a little cough of laughter.

"An escort? Above my touch, I think."

"Oh?" I watched him closely. "I thought perhaps she was your mistress."

" My mistress?" His jaw dropped in astonishment. " I live with my mother, Counsellor !"

"The one does not necessarily preclude the other, Dottore."

"No, but "

"Forgive me, Counsellor," Mascati interrupted smoothly. "But if it came to my attention that Inspector Zen was maintaining his mother and a mistress, I should be examining his finances very closely."

I saw Zen's eyes, under their lowered lids, slide sideways to meet Mascati's .

Two pairs of beautiful eyes, one pair green, the other black, looked at me with the guileless eyes of three year old children.

The guilelessness of three year olds who were up to no good ; who were intent on deception.

Mmmm.

I did not believe either of them.

There was something.

Mmm...Yes.

Another thing I learnt from my mother was when to give up; or to appear to do so.

So I let it go; tucking it at the back of my mind for future reference.

"Right," I gathered my handbag and briefcase. " Are you still under Witness Protection, Dottore? Should I not see you before, I will see you both in court.

Of course, I saw Zen before the trial opened .

Almost every day; sometimes twice or three times a day .

I sent for him or called at the Questura to see him.

None of which was necessary . The Corleone case was totally prepared, but it kept him jumping.

At little intervals, I found myself humming a song .

I had no idea what it was but it was there all the time .

Most irritating.

De dede de de dede dede de de de de de de

Or

De dede de dede de dede

I could not think what it was.

On the second day of the trial, I woke early and had my breakfast , thinking about the coming day.

Zen was on the stand today, all day today and all day tomorrow.

One of the prosecution's prime witnesses.

Not a hard examination ; just taking him through his evidence .

Just him and me.

My attention solely on him; and his on me.

De dede de dede dum dum dum dum.

I put on my lipstick. Looking critically in the mirror, I ran my tongue around my teeth, rubbed my lips together and then satisfied, I put on my jacket and picking up my briefcase, left my apartment.

Dum di dumdum de dum du dum.

The lift arrived and I stepped into it. As the doors closed, it came to me.

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'Hush my darling , don't fear my darling,

The lion sleeps tonight .

In the jungle, the mighty jungle,

the lion sleeps tonight .'

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I laughed to myself in exhilarated anticipation .

Not so.

The lion is awake.

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