Page 116 of A Scottish Teashop in Napoli

‘The Toad…?’

‘Fuck!’ cried Lucy, jumping up and knocking over her wine. ‘Oops.Fuuuck! Crap! Sorry. Those poor wee toads will be burned to a crisp.’

Chapter Twenty-Six

‘Officer Bianchi?’

‘Sì?’

‘You can go through now. Interview room three.’

Dario stood up and straightened his tie. ‘Grazie.’

His stomach churned as he made his way along the corridor. He drew a steadying breath. This was his main chance, but he had to keep his cool if there was to be any hope of getting the information he needed to bring the rest of the perpetrators to justice.

‘For the purposes of the tape, Officer Bianchi has just walked in the room,’ said DCI Marino, rising from behind his desk and firmly shaking Dario’s scarred hand.

Dario winced slightly then allowed himself a slight professional smile as he pulled out a chair and took his place opposite the accused, supported by his lawyer.

He was taken aback at his reaction to the pale, dishevelled youth facing him, jaw clenched, sunken, lifeless eyes boring into the desk. Far from wanting to beat him to a pulp for what he had done, he felt a wave of pity tug at his heart.

‘Over to you, Officer Bianchi,’ said DCI Marino.

Dario recited his name, rank and the time.

‘How old are you, Tommaso?’

‘Sixteen,’ he mumbled.

‘Look at me, please.’

The young man took a deep, shaky breath and ran his hand through his unruly hair, revealing track marks on his arm.

Dario leaned forward, his nose millimetres from the boy’s, forcing him to lift his watery gaze.

‘As you can see, your actions have had serious consequences.’

Tommaso looked at Dario’s scarred face then turned away again, agonised self-hatred and helplessness creeping over him.

‘I know the attacks weren’t your idea,’ Dario pressed. ‘And I get the feeling you’re sorry for what you did. Am I right?’

The young man sniffed, wiping his nose on his torn sleeve.

‘I don’t excuse your actions, but I know the reasoning behind them. You’re unemployed, and you were offered a substantial reward, right?’

There was a lingering silence, broken by an exasperated DCI Marino hitting the desk with his fist.

‘What have you to say?’

Dario shot the detective a warning look. ‘Per favore…’

He ploughed on. ‘I don’t believe you’re a bad person. You can start over. I believe you want to change, to work, to get ahead in life. And we can help put you on the right path, but you need to help us first.’

DCI Marino slid a file across the desk. Dario opened it, carefully laying out several black-and-white headshots in a neat row. Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms.

‘Take a long look and tell us which of these men you recognise.’

Tommaso’s gaunt face turned ashen, cold fear running over his body.