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‘I would like everyone to stand. I am asking you, please. Stand up for just a moment. Here with us is a great writer who must be honoured for what he does.’
    Everyone stood up amidst the din of chairs and broke into a wild applause for the old Indian man, who began bobbing his head, looking rather embarrassed. ‘Bravo! Well done! Bravo! Thanks for being you!’ someone, who had probably heard Sawhney's name for the first time tonight and certainly wouldn't buy his book, called out. Even Tremagli, reluctantly, was forced to stand and applaud that farce. A girl in the second row pulled out a lighter. Everyone else quickly followed suit. Flames lit up everywhere. Someone turned the big chandeliers off and the long room was lit by a hundred little flames. It was like being at a Baglioni concert.
    â€˜Why not?’ Ciba pulled out his lighter, too. He saw the managing director, the general manager and the whole Martinelli group follow suit.
    The writer was satisfied.

 
    7
    â€˜Mantos, I have a proposal to make. Come to Pavia tomorrow for a business lunch. I've already got you booked on a flight for Milano.’
    Saverio Moneta was on the side of the motorway to Capranica. He couldn't believe that the famous Kurtz Minetti, the high priest of the Children of the Apocalypse, the one that had decapitated a nun with a double-edged axe, was talking to him. He rubbed a hand across his burning forehead. ‘Tomorrow?’
    â€˜Yes. I'll get one of my followers to come and pick you up from Linate.’
    Kurtz's voice was reassuring and accent free.
    â€˜Um, what day is it tomorrow?’
    â€˜Saturday.’
    â€˜Saturday . . . Let me think.’ It was impossible. The next day was the beginning of the ‘Kid's Bedrooms Week’, and if he asked the old man for another day off his father-in-law would pour kerosene over him and set him on fire in the shop car park.
    He took his courage in both hands. ‘No, tomorrow I can't make it. I'm sorry, but I really can't.’ I must be the first person who has dared to say no to an invitation from the greatest expert of Italian Satanism. He'll slam the phone down in my face .
    But Kurtz asked him: ‘And when could you make it?’
    â€˜Well, actually, to be honest, I'm quite busy for the next couple of days . . .’
    â€˜Of course.’ Kurtz seemed more surprised than annoyed.
    Mantos took a risk: ‘Couldn't we discuss it over the phone? You've caught me at a bad time.’
    Kurtz breathed in deeply through his nose.
    â€˜I don't like discussing these things over the phone. It's not safe. I can only give you an idea. As you well know, the Children of the Apocalypse are the number one Satanic sect in Italy, and the third-biggest in Europe. Our website registers fifty thousand hits per day and we have a calendar rich with events. We organise orgies, raids, black masses and excursions to Satanic sites, like the pine forest of Castel Fusano and the Al Amsdin caves in Jordan. We also have a small theatre, where we show the greatest films of demoniacal cinema. We are also developing a half-yearly illustrated magazine called Satanic Family .’ His voice had changed, it was becoming more animated. He must have given this speech a number of times. ‘Our followers are spread out like leopard spots all across the peninsula. Our head office is still in Pavia, but at this point, given the situation, we have decided to expand and take a step forward. And here you come into play, Mantos.’
    Saverio undid the button on his collar. ‘Me? What do you mean, me?’
    â€˜Yes, you. I know that you have been having some organisational problems with your Wilde Beasts of Abaddon. It's a predicament familiar to a lot of small sects. The Reaper told me that you've had a number of deserters over the last season and there are only three of you left.’
    â€˜Well . . . To be honest, if you include me, there are actually four of