Read Cosi Fan Tutti - 5 for Free Online Page B

accessories, pick up a guidebook and
    maps of London.’
    Valeria sighed.
    ‘But what about the men? I still don’t understand how you’re going to get them to be unfaithful in such a short time.’
    ‘Leave that to me. Just remember to leave me the key to the downstairs flat. Oh, and have you got those snapshots I asked for?’
    Valeria Squillace handed over these items, and Zen led her down the stairs to the front door. The football players had dispersed and the steep basalt steps were deserted.
    From the sill of a barred window across the alley, Don Castrese’s cat watched them warily.
    ‘I’ll set up a meeting between our four young lovers just before the girls leave/ Zen told Valeria. ‘But it’s most important they shouldn’t meet until then. If Sabatino and Gesualdo find out what’s happening and get to work on the girls, they could destroy the whole plan.’
    Valeria nodded.
    ‘I’ll take them off to visit their aunt in Salerno. They’ve been promising to go for weeks, and this is the perfect opportunity.’
    She turned to Zen.
    ‘So I’ll see you on Sunday night/ she said lightly.
    ‘What about the neighbours? The porter is bound to see me coming and going, and it’ll be all over the building in no time.’
    Valeria waved dismissively.
    ‘I’ve told him I’m expecting a cousin from Milan who’s down here on business for a few weeks. That and a large tip from you should do the trick.’
    Zen smiled and nodded.
    ‘A presto, allora.’
    ‘Arrivederci, Don Alfonso.’
     
     
    Due delinquenti
     
     
    At about the time Zen and Valeria parted in a quiet alley on the slopes of the Vomero, with only a cat for company, the two men who were the subject of their discussion entered a shop in Spaccanapoli amid the shriek of sirens and the raucous shouts of street vendors. The shop sold wine and beer and filling snacks: balls of cooked rice with a soft heart of melted mozzarella, folded pizzas stuffed with curd cheese and ham, potato croquettes laden with oil and melted cheese.
    The elderly woman behind the counter was adding to the general din by yelling an order to the kitchen, where her husband and a teenage boy were hard at work in the ferocious heat of ovens the size of tombs. Then she saw the two men who had just come in and her face became studiously blank.
    ‘Giosue here?’ asked the older and taller of the pair.
    He was dressed in designer slacks and a tight-fitting sweater which revealed his taut, muscled frame to advantage.
    ‘Eh, oh!’ the woman called to the back of the shop. ‘And these pizzettel’
    The other man reached over the counter and took one of the golden rice balls stacked on a plate. He was wearing jeans and a smartly pressed sports jacket over an
    open-necked shirt.
    ‘Good/ he said appreciatively, biting into the arancia.
    ‘What do you want?’ the old woman asked.
    ‘A double cone with pistachio and chocolate/ returned the first man in dialect as thick as her own. ‘Oh, and a scoop of raspberry, what the hell.’
    ‘We don’t have ice-cream.’
    The man looked shocked.
    ‘You don’t?’
    He turned to his companion.
    ‘They don’t have ice-cream, they don’t have Giosue. So what the fuck do they have?’
    The other swallowed a mouthful of rice before replying.
    ‘They have problems/ he said, shaking his head.
    The old woman made a face.
    ‘Eh, problems! Of course we have problems, and so many!’
    The first man flicked his forefinger at her face.
    ‘Ah, but you have problems you don’t even know about yet. Maybe you have ice-cream too, without knowing it.’
    ‘Maybe they have Giosue/ the other man put in.
    At this point the woman’s husband emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a filthy towel. He was old too, just like his wife, and the neighbour’s kid who was helping out was too young to be any help in a situation like this. Once upon a time he could have seen scum like this off the premises without any trouble, but not any
    longer. He knew it,