Damned psychopaths, asthenics, schizophrenics! Then the young man’s face, turned soft with anguish, like mayonnaise coming loose from a jar, aroused his pity. ‘Let’s go back to my sister’s.’ They had been sitting for almost an hour in the car, parked outside the Musocco cemetery and, what with th...
But Duca and Mascaranti kept their heads bowed over the kitchen table and those fine, thick, pale brown files. Technically, there had been three falls into the water. The first went back almost four years. A young couple, a woman of twenty-four named Michela Vasorelli and a man of twenty-nine nam...