Read Cosi Fan Tutti - 5 for Free Online Page A

came a written reply, via fax, stating that no records existed in those names. Given that the police maintained a dossier on just about every man, woman and child in the country, even if only to list whether or not they had fulfilled their legal duty of voting in every local and national election, the complete absence of the men’s names was itself a form of negative proof that something was amiss.
    But it was the next development which seemed to confirm that Signora Squillace’s suspicions had not been exaggerated. This took the form of a telephone call from an official at the elite Direzione Investigativa Antimafia. He explained that Zen’s request had been routinely copied to him since the two names were on a file of suspected gang members whom the DIA had under long-term surveillance, and wanted to know what had brought them to the attention of the port police. Zen invented a vague but plausible cover story and promised to relay any further information he might have to the DIA before taking any action himself.
    At a second meeting, over lunch in a restaurant beneath the Castel dell’Ovo, he had reported his findings to Valeria Squillace. Oddly, she seemed almost reassured by this proof that her worst fears had been realized. The question was what to do now.
    ‘Why not just forbid your daughters to see them?’ Zen had suggested.
    Valeria merely smiled sadly.
    ‘You’re out of touch, Don Alfonso. The girls simply wouldn’t obey me. They’re in love, or think they are. For the young these days, that’s a licence to do anything.
    Besides, it might just make matters worse as far as the men are concerned. Gangsters never take no for an answer, even if they’re not really that interested. It’s a question of principle with them.’
    Things had come a long way since that stiff-backed, exploratory rendezvous at La Cantinella. In retrospect, the turning-point had probably been Zen’s agreeing to
    give up smoking. Valeria’s late husband had been a sixtya-day man, and the smell of cigarettes, she explained, still evoked disturbing memories. Much to his surprise, Zen
    had simply shrugged and said, ‘All right/ It was just another example of how he had changed since moving to Naples. All his habits and attributes had come to seem
    provisional, decorative impedimenta related to choices he had once made for reasons now forgotten, no more a part of him than his clothes. He’d started smoking at a certain moment, now he would stop. Why not?
    The decision had meant handing over the remaining 320 packets of the contraband Nazionali to old Signor Castrese across the street, but it had been worth it. Never before had Zen had a relationship like this with a woman: warm, intimate, friendly, informal, but completely nonsexual.
    This is what it would have been like having a sister, he thought as they lay sprawled side by side beneath the green awning, the table between them littered with
    the remains of the simple meal Zen bought on his way home - a selection of cold antipasti, half a crusty loaf and some insalata Caprese.
    They still had their differences, though, notably over the success of the plan Zen came up with for separating Valeria’s daughters from their unsuitable suitors.
    ‘But will it work?’ she repeated. ‘That’s the question.’
    ‘Of course it will/ Zen replied lazily.
    She shook her head.
    “I don’t feel right, playing with their emotions like this.
    They’re such darlings. I remember when they were babies
    ‘But now they can have babies. And it’s your responsibility to make sure that that happens with the right person and in the right circumstances.’
    ‘You’re so logical, so Northernl Life isn’t that simple.’
    She glanced at her watch.
    “I must go. The girls will be home in half an hour. I don’t want to have to lie to them about where I’ve been.’
    ‘The essential thing now is to make sure they don’t try and back out. Take them shopping, let them choose suitable clothes and