Chapter 1: Spit out by a whale
Inspector Romano was fighting to free himself from the whale. It had swallowed him unaware in a flash of a moment, and he struggled to get out. The sirens on the shore were his only clue which way to swim. He was knocked about as he fought. A piece of furniture hit his arm. Was that his favorite armoire? How had the whale found it? Had it swum up on shore and grabbed him?
A slap on the face brought him awake. Lydia, in her occasional place by his side in the bed, mumbled, "phone... make it stop" in his direction. The inspector freed himself from the blankets and dragged the phone toward the kitchen to take the call in peace.
It was Catterina. "I hope there hasn't been a whale attack?" he asked the station desk officer. "A whale?" she answered confused. Romano continued, "I assume there's been a capsize?" Ever since Rome had instituted enhanced patrols, to the south of the island, to deter illegal immigrants, the traffickers had taken more risks to avoid detection. More risks meant more accidents and more accidents meant more bodies and still larger piles of paperwork on his desk.
"No sir," answered Catterina, "It's sergeant Carlo. He asked me to tell you there's been a murder. At the big house at the end of Strada Lucciole. Adult male, mid-40s. I've sent Di Stefano to pick you up."
After they hung up, Romano put on the espresso. He needed a double to get to fully awake. He was just finishing when Di Stefano pulled up. He quickly hurried to gulp down the last dregs and let Lydia know he was leaving.
She managed to stir herself again. She was a picture in the moonlight that streamed in soft rays through the window, one breast and a hip revealed. She was still groggy, but managed to say, "Don't forget I'm leaving for home this afternoon. Will you be back to take me to the airport?"
"Of course I will," answered Romano. "And of course I remembered."
"Don't start with me," answered Lydia, beginning to fully wake and beginning to get fully cross. "Last time I was here you stood me up and I barely made my flight."
Before the conversation could bloom into a full confrontation, Romano suggested she get back to sleep, assured her he would be back on time, and ducked out the door to meet Di Stefano.
Di Stefano, whose foot was apparently made entirely of lead, got the inspector to Strada Lucciole in record time. He was unclear what route they had taken, as he had had his eyes firmly shut most of the way. But he was grateful they hadn't encountered the Carabinieri. A heated inter-policing turf war was the last thing he needed.
He shakily stepped from the police car and proceeded into the macabre circus, that attended every suspicious death, to find his Sergeant, Carlo.
"Are we sure it's murder?" He asked, once he'd found Carlo, outside the door to what appeared to be the master bedroom.
"Boss, unless the dead guy smashed himself on the back of the head, and then managed to hide the murder weapon before dying, I think we can safely assume its murder." Carlo had always had a way with words.
