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Chapter 8: On the Milan Operation
Detective Inspector Gina Alfredi looks in disbelief at the CCTV images. She should be used to the absurd indulgences that surround the Milan Shoe Fair each year, but this takes the biscotti. The stiletto heeled shoe that she can see on the screen must be 4 metres high. It’s perfect in every detail, from the tip of the heel, the replicated stitching, the shaping of the toe and the sole. Heaven only knows what the leather that’s covering it must have cost. But that’s what you find with the shoe designers here, no expense spared. Still, the costs of the display would be easily covered, but the price of Satvaya’s shoes meant that Alfredi was never likely to afford a pair.
Standing behind her, Gina’s colleague, Sergeant Vincenzo, is more interested in checking out how his DI’s arse is moving in her trousers, but his attention is brought back to the needs of the moment by Alfredi’s clipped commentary.
"Two men. We see them here. They know what they are doing, where they are going, no doubts, no hesitation." Alfredi turns around; Vincenzo has the sense to be looking towards the screen.
"This where they called us in?" The view zooms shakily as though the CCTV operator didn’t quite believe what he was looking at.
"That’s it. Once he saw this, the guy in Security knew they had a problem." The picture shows a girl struggling helplessly against ropes that are holding her against the heel of the display shoe. The picture moves around as the operator tries to make out exactly what is going on. Its movement gives the footage a prurient feel, as though the CCTV operator was keen to take in every detail. It lingers on the way the ropes at her ankles fix her legs against the heel, the ones at her waist press her buttocks back against it, the way that her arms have been dragged around behind the stiletto so that her wrists could be tied.
"Perceptive!"
"Have you spoken to her?" Alfredi nods at the screen. Her hair is naturally dark, growing out at the roots from a pale blonde dye that she’s decided she doesn’t like.
Vincenzo shakes his head. "Not yet. That’s next. Do you want to do it?"
"No. You do it." Alfredi knows whatever she’s says, she’ll be wrong. If she does it, she’s hi-jacking his work; if she lets him do it, she’s being the idle bitch-boss that lets him do all the grunt work before taking the credit.
Sergeant Vincenzo leaves Alfredi with a muttered "OK" and heads to the interview room. The girl from the CCTV footage is sitting on a chair, wrapped in a blanket. She’s still obviously shocked by her ordeal. The cloth that the raiders used to gag her is hanging limply around her neck. It’s still there even though she was freed more than an hour ago.
In spite of her experiences, she’s on her feet as soon as Vincenzo enters the room. "Have you any news? What’s happening? Why am I still here?"
The last thing Vincenzo needs is this excitable woman haranguing him. "Please. Sit down. We are doing all we can. It will take some time but, if we can ask you a few questions, then you can go."
"Where is Rani? Have you found her?"
"No, we haven’t." Vincenzo was blunt. There seemed little point in saying anything else. Rani Satvaya had obviously been the target of those raiding the offices and Vincenzo had his own views about what would happen next.
The attack on the girl had been an unfortunate but necessary inconvenience for the raiders, the thing with the shoe was an improvisation, or maybe to make a point, Vincenzo thought. Of course, they had amused themselves in the way they had left her helpless. Why wouldn’t you, Vincenzo thought, looking down at the seated girl. Behind her tear-streaked face, bedraggled hair, and scared dark eyes, she was an attractive looker. She, conscious that his gaze was more than that strictly needed for the conversation, drew the blanket closer around her, covering her skirt, ripped in the struggle with the intruders when they grabbed her, and her blouse, torn open as they’d given themselves a moment or two’s amusement once she was helpless against the heel of the shoe.
"So, what happened after they tied you up?"
"Apart from their stupid games? Stupid male games!" She spat it out as if she imagined the police officer would consider them of little consequence. "I don’t know. I couldn’t see. They came back with Rani. She was tied and blindfolded. Gagged, too, just like me. Squealing and wriggling, trying to break free of them, of course! They had her bag, the designs for the new range. Took her out front, maybe ten minutes before the Security got to me."
"And then you were freed?"
"Yes."
"These men – did you recognise them?"
"No – they had masks. Like animals – a fox and a cat."
"Not seen them around the office before?"
"No, I told you. We don’t have foxes and cats."
"Weapons?"
"I don’t know. I didn’t see anything. They just grabbed me. He was strong, the Fox. The Cat did the work with the rope. But they both wanted their fun."
"And you hadn’t seen them before?"
"No, I told you."
"What happened after they left?"
"How the hell should I know? I was tied to that fucking shoe? Remember? Go ask Security? They got CCTV, they’ll tell you."
Vincenzo eases off the pressure and offers her a cigarette. She snatches it greedily, taking a deep drag as soon as it’s lit.
"They say anything?"
The girl shakes her head and then reconsiders for a moment, "Oh, yeah – ‘Nice Tits!’ – if that helps? Maybe there was a Neapolitan accent. I dunno. I was more worried about what else they were going to do to me."
Vincenzo stubs his own cigarette out. He knows he isn’t going to get much more from the girl. He tells her she can go. Angelina, a woman police officer comes in to help her out. Vincenzo wonders how she’d look up against the shoe heel.
Gina Alfredi isn’t too impressed with the outcome of Vincenzo’s interview. "Maybe Neapolitan? A big help!"
Vincenzo shrugs.
"It looks like a business hit to me. Who do we know who didn’t like Rani’s shoe business? Anyone in Rani’s family? Other Bangladeshi businesses wanting to come here and maybe didn’t like how she was doing it? I think this has something to do with her business or maybe some of her old friends in the movie business. We should check that out."
"Sure, boss." Vincenzo isn’t enthralled by the amount of work that this implies. He looks at his watch. Time for a coffee. Maybe he’ll find that Angelina in the canteen, he thinks. More chance with her than this frosty bitch.
© Freddie Clegg 2011
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