“Maria?”
“Si.”
“Maria. My name is Cesare De Luca. I am a detective inspector with the Vatican police. I understand you wish to report your husband, a policeman of the Carabinieri, missing.”
“Yes,” she replied. De Luca thought she sounded close to tears.
“Has your husband ever done anything like this before?”
“No he hasn’t. He’s a good man. A good husband and father.”
“Maria please try to remain calm. Can you tell me when you last saw him.”
“Yesterday morning. He left for work at 8 o’clock. He kissed the children goodbye and then myself. He always does,” she continued whilst choking back the sobs. “I just want him home.”
“Yes I understand Mrs Balotelli. Please try not to get upset. I would like to assure you that we are doing everything we can to locate him. I know this is probably the wrong thing to say to you right now but we would not treat a person as missing until 24 hours has passed. Not even one of our own.”
De Luca heard her sobbing again.
“I truly understand how you feel Maria. I’m sure there is a perfectly logical reason to your husband’s whereabouts. Is there any family or friends he may have stayed with overnight?”
“No. I’ve tried them all. Everyone I can think of. He’s never done this before in six years of marriage.”
“Is there anything else you can think of to help us Mrs Balotelli.”
“I can think of nothing.”
“I understand. As I said I’m sure there is a perfectly good reason as to why he didn’t come home last night….Probably a mistress,” De Luca was thinking. He decided not to tell her about the missing police car, “I will personally get back to you as soon as there is any news. In the meantime Maria the number I’m ringing you from is my own mobile number. If you can think of anything else please don’t hesitate to call. Don’t worry Maria. We will find him as soon as we can.”
She thanked him and he waited until the line went dead. De Luca reached into his trouser pocket and took out his keys. He selected one and opened the drawer in his desk, reached in and took out a 9mm Beretta, checked it and put it in it’s holster on the belt around his waist.
Thirty minutes since he’d spoken to Ferrara and De Luca left the police station and got into the black Lancia that was waiting for him.
“Have you got details of Balotelli’s patrol patterns?”
“Yes sir. Did you speak to the wife?”
De Luca nodded.
“She wasn’t much help. Just kept bleating on about how he’d never done this sort of thing before. He’s probably been shagging some bit on the side all night. When I catch up with him I’ll have his balls for not returning his car. The tax payers own that car not him!”
“Yes sir. Did you tell his wife all this?”
De Luca turned his head.
“Of course I didn’t. I told her we were doing everything we could and that there must be a perfectly good reason. But I’ll tell you this. If he’s used that car for anything other than police work we won’t have to worry about the wife killing him. I’ll do it myself.”
“Yes sir.”
“Now. Where does this Balotelli patrol?”
“I quickly checked with records and he…..” Ferrara pulled out a map and pointed to the A12 road, “He issues most of his tickets here. He books motorists for overtaking on the white lines.”
De Luca was reading the map.
“I know it well. We’ll start there.”
De Luca got out of the black Lancia and stretched his legs. Ferrara had stopped the car at the large run off area that was triangular in shape. Armco barriers stopped anything from tumbling off the cliffs. De Luca looked down the road at the approaching traffic. A Porsche sped past a lorry, overtaking on the white lines. The two detectives stared at the driver who slowed down and looked guiltily at them as he drove past.
“I can see why he likes to sit here and catch offenders,” De Luca said, “There’s another one.”
This time it was a speeding BMW. De Luca watched another two cars break the law before turning his back on the traffic. He looked at tyre marks left in the dirt. Some were clearly HGV’S or coaches. No doubt providing tourists with photographic opportunities. Many were car tracks. One of which caught his eye.
“Hey Mario. You’ve got one of those I-phones haven’t you. Get over here with it.”
Ferrara offered his phone.
“These have a really good camera on them don’t they?”
“Very good.”
“Take some pictures of all these tyre marks. Especially this one.”
Ferrara began flicking the touch screen on his I-phone until he got the camera symbol.
“Just stills or video?”
“Do both.”
“Yes sir. Why am I photographing tyre marks?”
“Why?”
“Yes why?”
De Luca smiled at his apprentice. He had much to teach the young detective.
“The Carabinieri had new vehicles earlier this year didn’t they?”
Ferrara nodded while clicking away.
“To my knowledge, apart from the vans the cars were all Alfa Romeo’s.”
“Yes.”
“Then they would have all been supplied with the same brand of tyres if straight from the factory.”
“So if the cars are all new they would still be on their first set of tyres.”
“Correct and one of these tracks may match the tyres on Balotelli’s Alfa and if I’m right I think it’s this one.”
Ferrara took photographs of the tracks in as many angles as he could.
“Get those sent to Ezio in forensics straight away.”
“Yes sir,” Ferrara began sending the MMS data.
“And tell him I want analysis immediately. The moment he can pinpoint make and brand.”
Midway through the messages being sent Ferrara’s phone rang in his hand.
“It’s Ezio,” Ferrara said answering.
The conversation was very brief.
“They’ve got a location for Balotelli’s last known position.”
De Luca reached into the Lancia for the map. Ferrara drew his finger on the map until he found the coordinates he was searching for.
“Balotelli’s car’s tracker last reported from this area here. It’s an old abandoned airfield.”
De Luca folded the map.
“I’ll drive,” he said as Ferrara raced round to the passenger side. De Luca reached out of the driver’s side window and placed a single blue light on the roof. Traffic instantly slowed on the busy road to allow him to pull out.
De Luca turned off the blue light and reached out and removed it from the Lancia’s roof as they approached the mesh gates to the airfield. The gates were locked as De Luca had expected them to be. He stopped the Lancia on the small, dirt, pull off area and looked around.
“There’s nothing here,” Ferrara said.
De Luca shook his head.
“It’s been derelict and up for sale for years,” De Luca noticed the heavy chain and padlock on the gate, “That’s new though,” he said pointing out of the windscreen. He opened the driver’s door and got out of the car slowly. He examined the heavy, brass padlock attached to the chain.
“Definitely new,” he said. He looked through the gates, “There are tyre marks on the grass. More than one vehicle and recent.”
De Luca bent forward with his knees far apart and cupped his hands between his legs.
“Come on.”
“What sir?”
“You’re going over the fence. I’ll give you a boost.”
Ferrara scrabbled over the gate and dropped down onto the soft grass on the other side. De Luca reached into his pocket and withdrew a leatherman tool and tossed it over the fence. Ferrara caught it.
“You’ll find pliers on that. Cut some of those clips and let me in.”