Dani the Hero - 6. Chapter 6

Tuesday at school passed in slightly uncomfortable style.

Giacomo’s friendship with Emilia and Marco seemed to be in critical condition. The three of them barely spoke all day; from his seat on the far side of the classroom, Daniele watched his new friend wrestle with a conflicting mix of relief and hurt feelings as Emilia and Marco ignored him.

At lunchtime, Giacomo made the bold decision to hang out with Daniele on the terrace. Their school was a small and confined world, and the other boy’s sudden shift in allegiance did not go unnoticed. There were stares and ill-concealed whispered conversations as the they sat together on the outside wall, picking unenthusiastically at their packed lunches. If any of the other kids got too close, Giacomo would glare at them, as if daring them to challenge his choices.

At one point, Giacomo leaned in to whisper conspiratorially into Daniele’s ear.

“Maybe we should try holding hands. That would really give them something to talk about.”

Daniele tried his best to laugh at this suggestion.

“Do you ever play Pokémon cards, Dani?” Giacomo asked after a while.

Daniele shook his head. “Who would I play it with?”

Giacomo nodded. “Right. Too bad.” He sighed. “Dio, I want to get out of here.”

“Sorry,” Daniele replied, looking down at his fingernails.

“Hey,” Giacomo protested, “that’s not what I meant, Dani. I’d head for the hills with you right now if we could.”

Daniele glanced over the outside wall so he was staring down into the street below. “Want to jump?” he suggested, trying for a joke.

Giacomo snickered. “Thanks, but I’d like to keep my spine.”

Emilia and Marco were sitting at their usual picnic table. As he looked back up, Daniele thought he caught them glaring at the sight of them laughing together before they both looked away, feigning disinterest.

“Are you ever going to make it up to them?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo shrugged. “Maybe when this is all over, if I can.” He paused. “Emilia’s okay, really,” he went on, “you’d like her. And Marco… well,” he added, his tone ambivalent, “we’ve been friends for a long time.”

The mismatched pair remained there until the end of lunch break: one dark-haired and stylish, in skinny jeans and a trendy jacket; and one soft and blond, in beige shorts and a lavender t-shirt. They were united only by the air of detachment and gloom that seemed to surround them. When the bell rang for lessons, Daniele took comfort in the fact that it was less than two hours until the end of school.

Giacomo’s mood improved measurably from the moment they stepped outside the school gates and set off up Via Roma; by then, Emilia and Marco were receding figures heading in the opposite direction. They walked companionably past the spot below the school walls where Toto kept his Vespa, and then they arrived in the tiny square outside Da Rossi.

Anna was outside the restaurant, setting up tables. It was the first time Daniele had seen any real sign of life at the business since the attack.

“Ciao, Anna,” Daniele hailed her as they approached. “Are you reopening tonight?”

Anna looked up and beamed at him. “Ciao, Daniele,” she replied. “Yes, finally! I can’t wait to get started again. I never thought I’d say this, but thank God for insurance.”

Daniele glanced at the new shopfront, which looked freshly painted and ready to go.

“Everything looks great,” he said.

Anna nodded. “Yes, Angelo’s done a wonderful job.”

“You don’t think they’ll come back?” Daniele asked, glancing briefly at Giacomo, who shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

Anna sighed, looking troubled. “We can only hope they’ll go for someone else next time,” she replied. “Oh! What am I saying? I don’t want them to go for anyone.”

She fiddled thoughtfully with a tablecloth for a moment, then glanced up again, looking at Daniele’s companion with renewed interest.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked.

“Oh, right… this is Giacomo Agnello,” Daniele replied, suddenly realising that he was unused to introducing people.

“Pleased to meet you, signora,” Giacomo chirped automatically.

“Agnello… are you Elena Agnello’s boy?” Anna asked.

Giacomo nodded.

“Oh, but she’s lovely!” Anna replied. “How is she, Giacomo? She looks so tired these days.”

“She worries,” Giacomo said quietly.

Anna nodded. “Of course. Who wouldn’t? Please tell her I said ciao, and if she ever needs anything…”

Giacomo nodded. “I will, signora.”

They moved on, taking the low road for once so they approached the square via the quiet tree-lined street above the ceramics workshop. Daniele glanced sideways at his friend, wondering what was going on in his head: would meeting one of Ettore’s recent victims give him pause for thought?

Giacomo gave no outward sign that he was troubled, although he was silent until they reached the square.

“Where are we going, Dani?” he asked as they stepped out under the umbrella pines. “I’m guessing dinner’s not for ages yet.”

Daniele halted, offering the other boy an embarrassed smile. “Ah… I don’t really know.”

Giacomo smirked. “You doof.”

Hastily, Daniele rattled through his mental list of potential destinations. “Want to go to an olive grove?” he said. “I know one with a pretty good view.”

Giacomo gave him a slightly mystified look. “An olive grove? Sure, whatever.”

What are you doing? Daniele asked himself. Are you really taking him to one of Toto and Michele’s romantic hangouts?

Well, at least it’s somewhere to go.

Daniele led the way across the square, and they set off down the hill together.

They followed Daniele’s usual route home until they reached the road, then they headed down to the hairpin bend at San Cosma. They wandered through the little square and struck out along the winding concrete path around the bottom of the cliff beyond. Down below, the blue sea sparkled. The pale concrete of the path and the light golden rock of the cliff reflected the hot afternoon sun, amplifying its effect until both boys were baking. Mopping his brow, Giacomo undid his jacket, revealing another smart fitted t-shirt beneath.

“Do you often do this?” he asked. “I mean, just go wandering around?”

Daniele shrugged his shoulders. “I’m used to being on my own,” he replied.

Giacomo nodded. “I’m getting that. You must have been pretty lonely.”

Daniele stopped and looked at his new friend, chewing his top lip nervously. He was more used to reading people than being read, and he felt exposed. “I didn’t really think of it that way,” he replied.

Giacomo shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry we weren’t all nicer to you when you moved here,” he said.

Daniele found that his wits had quite deserted him. Unsure how to respond, he grabbed the other boy’s arm and tugged him on along the lane instead. “Come on,” he said, “it’s hot.”

Before too much longer, the path turned inland towards the Valle del Dragone and they found themselves among the olive trees. Daniele led the other boy up to a higher level, where they sat in the dappled shade of the silvery foliage. The cicadas scraped raucously, and what little sea breeze there was trickled in among the tree trunks, cooling their overheated brows. In the distance, they could see the tumbledown remains of the Torre dello Ziro, perched high on its rocky crag just in from the coast. As he scanned the sheer cliffs with his eyes, Daniele experienced a brief feeling of falling, and he closed his eyes for a second, dispelling the image.

“All right, it’s nice here,” Giacomo admitted. He stood, looking for a tree to climb. “But do you want to try something a bit more exciting some time?”

“Like what?” Daniele asked.

“Like some rock climbing? There’s a place in the valley… I’ve never tried it on my own, but I reckon, if we work together, we could do it.”

“Rock climbing…? I don’t know,” Daniele said doubtfully, remembering, again, that feeling of falling.

“C’mon, Dani,” Giacomo entreated him with a flash of that oh-so-persuasive smile, “it’ll be fun.”

“Ah…” Daniele replied, wavering, but then he conceded defeat. “All right.”

* * *

The two boys arrived at Daniele’s house a short while before dinner time. Daniele, who was feeling inexplicably anxious but realised that the niceties had to be observed, led his friend into the kitchen diner first so he could be introduced to Daniele’s parents. The savoury smell of cooking tomatoes, garlic and anchovies assailed their nostrils as they entered the light and airy space.

“Ciao, Mamma,” Daniele said to Patrizia, who was busy at the cooker.

“Oh, good, you’re home,” Patrizia replied, glancing over her shoulder. “Dinner will only be half an hour.”

She turned away from the cooker top, where she had just finished adding the main ingredients to a pan of pasta sauce. A second pan stood nearby, ready to boil the pasta. It looked like they were having spaghetti.

Patrizia stepped forward to greet their guest. Paolo, who looked like he had been doing his accounts at the dining table, joined her.

“Buonasera,” Patrizia said to the new arrival, looking at him with great interest. “You must be Giacomo. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Giacomo smiled politely, standing shoulder to shoulder with Daniele. “Buonasera, signora Ferrero,” he replied.

Paolo nodded a greeting. “Ciao, Giacomo,” he added.

Patrizia flicked a stray lock of her long blond hair back over her ear. “We’d love to meet you properly over dinner,” she said, “but let’s get the food on the table first. I hope you like spaghetti alla puttanesca, Giacomo?”

Giacomo nodded. “That sounds great, signora.”

“We’ll leave you to it until then,” Paolo said. “Daniele, why don’t you offer your friend a drink? You must both be thirsty.”

Daniele glanced at his friend, who nodded. Daniele made his way to the fridge and grabbed two cans of Lemon Soda, passing one to the other boy. They slipped back out of the kitchen and Daniele conducted his guest to his bedroom.

“That went well,” Daniele said.

Giacomo giggled. “You really don’t do this very often, do you?”

Now it was Daniele’s turn to wait while Giacomo inspected his private domain. He sat down on the bed, watching anxiously, while the other boy looked around and examined the view from the windows.

“Nice room, Dani,” Giacomo commented without resentment. “It looks bigger than mine.” He glanced at the double bed, which dwarfed its lone occupant, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “And that bed looks like the best.”

He moved into the desk area, glancing down at the piles of handwritten stories on Daniele’s desk.

“Foul Filippo and the Swifts?” Giacomo asked, reading the title of the top one.

Daniele flushed and leapt up to distract the other boy. Hadn’t his new story featured a suspiciously familiar dark-eyed boy who needed rescuing? Yes, as a matter of fact, it had.

“That one’s not finished,” Daniele replied hurriedly, placing a restraining hand on the top sheet. Giacomo let it go. Instead, he reached out and tweaked the lavender tie-dye t-shirt Daniele was wearing.

“How many of these do you have?” he said, a familiar mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Let’s see the collection.”

Reluctantly, Daniele led the other boy across the room and opened the wardrobe. Giacomo whistled quietly.

“Wow, Dani, you have a whole rainbow in here!” he said, apparently impressed. He reached in among the rack of tie-dye t-shirts and pulled out a red one. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear this, though,” he added, passing it to Daniele.

“I don’t like it as much,” Daniele replied, holding it up against his chest so the other boy could see. “It’s too…”

“…dangerous?” Giacomo suggested, with a playful smirk.

“It doesn’t suit my colours,” Daniele replied, gesturing to his blue eyes and blond hair.

Giacomo tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I guess you really do put some thought into this.”

“It would suit you, though,” Daniele said. He held it out to the other boy and looked at him determinedly, issuing a slight challenge of his own. “Want it?”

Giacomo looked at it dubiously for a moment, then accepted it with an expression that was ambivalent, but good humoured.

“All right,” he replied with a trace of a smile. “Maybe I can sleep in it.”

* * *

Patrizia called them out for dinner a short while later. The two boys came through cheerfully and sat down together so they were facing Patrizia and Paolo across the table.

Patrizia spooned generous helpings of steaming spaghetti into warm bowls and then passed round some freshly grated Parmigiano cheese. The two boys set to their meal with a will, tired and hungry after another busy day at school.

“So, Giacomo,” Paolo said as they ate. “Tell us about yourself.”

Between mouthfuls of pasta, Giacomo told them briefly about his home above his mother’s shop and explained that they lived alone. Daniele had already told his parents all this, but they seemed pleased to be hearing it from Giacomo himself.

“So, you’re not new in town?” Paolo asked.

“No, signore,” Giacomo replied. “I’ve always lived here.”

Paolo glanced curiously between Giacomo to Daniele. “So how have you suddenly become such good friends?”

“I fell and hurt my head,” Giacomo replied, understating the incident with alacrity. He raised a hand to his forehead to show Daniele’s parents where he had hit the barrier. “Dani came to my rescue.”

“Did you really, caro?” Patrizia asked Daniele. “You never mentioned that.”

Flushing slightly, Daniele mumbled an explanation about how he had treated Giacomo’s wound and given him a ride back to the pharmacy.

Patrizia and Paolo stared at Daniele in astonishment. “That’s so brave of you, caro,” Patrizia gasped. “I never would have known… at your age…”

Paolo nodded. “Great work, champ.”

Patrizia and Paolo exchanged a glance. Giacomo turned to Daniele, amused, and mouthed the word ‘champ?’ Embarrassed by the whole conversation, Daniele gave him a kick under the table. Giacomo snickered and kicked him back.

Daniele’s parents seemed spun by the whole story. Perhaps, he thought, they were starting to realise just how much he had been keeping from them lately. In the past, he had always told them everything.

Well… almost everything.

After dinner, Daniele waved Giacomo off in the street outside the house, flanked by both his parents. Paolo, visibly tired, had offered Giacomo a lift back up the hill, but Giacomo simply shook his head and said he’d be happy to walk.

Daniele watched as his new friend set off into the gathering dusk with his old red t-shirt tucked under one arm, and they exchanged a parting wave. Daniele wondered whether the other boy was heading straight home, or whether he was heading out to gather more intelligence for Ettore. The thought left him torn between the rational hope that his friend was just going to bed and an irrational wish that he could be out there too, keeping Giacomo company as he carried out his secret mission.

Once his new friend had disappeared into the semi-darkness, Daniele and his parents headed back to the kitchen to begin the washing up. Daniele looked expectantly at his parents as they cleared the table together, waiting to see what they had to say.

Patrizia smiled cautiously at him. “Giacomo seems like a nice boy,” she said, “and you obviously like him a great deal.”

“He seems very… cool,” Paolo added, scratching his head thoughtfully.

“Be careful with him, though,” Patrizia went on. “I… that is, we… wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Daniele frowned in puzzlement. “Why would Giaco hurt me?”

“Never mind, caro,” Patrizia smiled again, beckoning him in both arms. “Come and have a hug.”

Daniele complied, and then took himself off to get ready for bed.

* * *

The next morning, Daniele set off early, looking forward to another chance to spend time with his new friend. Buoyed by Giacomo’s successful introduction to his parents, Daniele had already largely forgotten the awkwardness of the previous lunchtime.

Dressed in teal, he climbed the stairs into town with a spring in his step, school bag over one shoulder. Swifts flew overhead in the early morning sun, which only struck the top of the high stone walls, leaving Daniele in the comfort of the shade. The air was still fresh and mild; it would not achieve its full heat until after lunchtime. Even passing the gates to Filippo’s house could not bring down his upbeat mood.

Daniele hoofed it across the cathedral square, where the shopkeepers were just setting up their morning displays; a couple of early cicadas were already scraping away in the pine trees, and the pigeons were pecking around the feet of the breakfasting couples at the bars. It seemed every bit like a normal May morning in Ravello.

Following his usual route, Daniele headed straight for Via Roma. He trotted cheerfully past the ice cream parlour and the first couple of shops, but then he rounded the first corner and stopped abruptly, jaw sagging in dismay.

Salvatore’s shop had been wrecked.

Daniele backed up against the rough rendered wall of the building opposite as he surveyed the dreadful scene. It looked as though the front door had been kicked in with a single, massive blow, and the glass window was smashed. Inside, it looked like the attackers had swept as much stock off the shelves as they could in a short space of time; the floor was littered with smashed packets and jars and a congealing mass of their former contents. A powerful combination of clashing aromas wafted out of the store.

At the counter, a tired and careworn-looking Salvatore was giving a statement to the same young police officer who had interviewed Anna after the attack on Da Rossi. The interview was being supervised by none other than officer Leggero, the Carabinieri chief whom Daniele had seen Ettore Neri pressuring at the house in Sambuco. Now dressed in his more familiar uniform, he was standing in silence, hands behind his back, his silvery hair neatly combed. His face was grave. Daniele stared at him, not quite hating him, for hatred wasn’t in his nature, but stunned by the nerve of the man.

“So, the attack took place at…” the young police officer was saying.

“At around five o’clock this morning,” Salvatore replied.

“And you know this because…?”

“We live above the shop,” Salvatore said tersely. “I remember seeing the clock on my bedside table when I was awoken by the sound of the attackers smashing the door in. We were able to react quickly. My son Toto was first on the scene; the attackers fled when he challenged them, but he’ll be able to describe them for you.”

“So, all this damage…” the police officer said, gesturing around the ruined shop with his pen.

“…took place in the space of less than a minute, yes,” Salvatore confirmed.

“It must have been a quick, brutal attack,” the police officer said.

Salvatore glared at him. “Evidently.”

There was movement within the gloomy depths of the store, and Toto came into view as he stepped out from behind the counter. His intense brown eyes flashed out through the open door, catching sight of Daniele lurking in the street. Leggero’s eyes also turned in his direction, settling on him with a trace of puzzled recognition.

Daniele’s nerve failed him. He turned and set off along the street at a fast walk, weaving between passers-by, heading towards school. His head felt hot, and he could feel his heart pounding.

Someone behind him seized him by the arm, pulling him up a narrow little side turning under the overhanging buildings. Daniele found himself planted firmly against the wall on one side of the alley, and came face to face with Toto, who was leaning against the opposite wall. Toto’s eyes were burning with emotion.

“Did your new friend do this to us, Dani?” he said quietly.

Daniele shook his head. “I… I don’t think so…” he ran his hands roughly through his hair. “I don’t know…”

“It was Antonio, I’m sure of it.” Toto said furiously. “I saw them when they took off. Antonio and some other guy… I didn’t know him.”

Daniele’s head was reeling. “Filippo…” he managed. “I saw Filippo hassling your father last week.”

“Filippo?” Toto frowned. “Papà never said anything about that…”

More fragments of Daniele’s memory were falling into place. “Filippo lost his cool,” he stammered. “He threatened him. He mentioned Marta Rossi… said something about ‘queer-lovers’.”

Toto’s eyes narrowed. “So, that’s his agenda, is it?”

“So… maybe it wasn’t Giacomo this time,” Daniele said in a small voice, then he burst into tears.

The anger left Toto’s eyes at once. He knelt and pulled Daniele into a fierce hug.

“Jesus, Dani, what am I doing?” he said.

“I’m sorry, Toto,” Daniele sobbed into his shoulder.

“Not… your… fault!” Toto replied, squeezing him even harder.

“I just want to help him, Toto,” Daniele said tearfully. “He… he’s not proud of what he’s doing.”

Toto released him. “So that was who Michele saw you with the other day,” he said, more gently. “You’ve made contact?”

Daniele nodded. “We’re friends now,” he said.

“That’s great, I guess. What’s he like?”

Daniele shrugged. “We really have fun together, and I think he, I mean I…” he hesitated. “I really like him.”

“Why does he do it, then?” Toto asked in frustration.

“He says they need the money,” Daniele replied miserably.

Toto reached out a hand and wiped the tears away from Daniele’s cheeks. “Christ, Dani,” he said, “how did you get yourself so caught up in all this?”

Daniele gave him a watery smile. “Just luck, I guess.”

Toto shook his head with what might have been the ghost of a smile, but then his expression became serious again.

“Listen, Dani,” he said, “I don’t know how much longer we can give you. I’m going to have to tell Papà something, and then, well… if the police won’t do anything…”

He left the last point unanswered, but Daniele got the message.

“I’ll talk to Giacomo,” he mumbled.

Toto pulled Daniele into a quick hug once more, then surprised Daniele by planting a quick kiss on his forehead.

“I’d better get back, or the police will start asking questions,” Toto said. “Be careful, Dani.”

Toto slipped back out of the alleyway and trotted back up Via Roma, leaving Daniele alone. Daniele wiped away the last of his tears, then fixed his hair as best he could before resuming his journey to school. Before he knew it, he was running.

* * *

Daniele joined the trickle of pupils climbing the school steps. Most of them were streaming straight up to the school building, but there was still time in hand, and Daniele needed a moment to himself. He detoured down into the empty lunch terrace and took his usual spot on the outside wall, resting his face in his hands.

At the memory of Salvatore’s wrecked store, the tears threatened to start all over again.

Please, no… I don’t want to cry again…

“Dani?” said an uncertain voice. “Are you okay?”

Daniele glanced up blearily and saw Giacomo. The other boy was standing in front of him, school bag dangling from one hand, dark eyebrows knotted in concern.

“Ettore attacked Salvatore’s,” Daniele said.

“Isn’t that Toto’s father’s shop?” Giacomo replied. “Crap… I’m sorry, Dani.”

“Did you…?”

Giacomo shook his head at once. “No! I’ve never done Via Roma, I swear. Too public.”

Relief coursed through Daniele in an unexpected wave. Some of the tension left him, but so did his self-control. He started to weep again, wiping the tears away in frustration.

Giacomo plopped down on the wall next to Daniele. Discarding his school bag, he placed a comforting arm around Daniele’s shoulders. As Daniele felt the other boy’s warmth and his slow breathing, gradually, the tears left him.

“When are you going out again?” Daniele asked.

“Tonight,” Giacomo replied hesitantly. “I… I have to report to Ettore again.”

“I’d like to go with you,” Daniele said.

Giacomo drew back in alarm. “Go with me…? I dunno, Dani…”

“Please, Giaco,” Daniele said insistently.

Giacomo twisted his hands together uncomfortably for a moment, but then he nodded. “All right,” he said, “on one condition. We make sure there’s no way Ettore gets to see you.”

Daniele nodded. “Deal.”

Giacomo smiled slightly. “Wait outside my place at eight thirty. I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

For once, Daniele was glad that both his parents usually worked late in the evenings. It meant he could slip out at a late hour without having to answer any awkward questions.

Daniele assembled a basic dinner and ate it without much enthusiasm. His mind was entirely focused on what he was about to do: he had never snuck out at night before, and the thought of it brought a frisson of anxiety and an uneasy sense of guilt; but there was an element of excitement, too, at the prospect of an illicit adventure.

Before he left, he made sure to leave one of his bedroom windows open a crack. With luck, if his parents got home first, they would assume he had gone to bed already and would decide not to disturb him. Daniele would sneak back in from the sun terrace and they would be none the wiser.

The sun was sinking behind the hills as Daniele let himself out of the house. He stole through the deserted stairways of the hillside, taking the back way into town, heart thudding anxiously in his chest. As he approached the narrow tunnel under the Villa Rufolo, the streetlights sputtered into life, illuminating his echoing journey with a dim glow.

Glad of the darkness, Daniele turned up the Bishop’s Way and climbed up to the Toro through the whispering trees. Crickets chirruped in the gardens to either side.

The Toro itself was brightly lit by decorative lanterns hanging from the walls of the imposing palazzi. A smattering of visitors passed by in twos or threes on their way to or from the cathedral square. Feeling too exposed out in the street, Daniele slipped through a tall stone archway opposite Giacomo’s home and melted away into a small, landscaped belvedere that looked out to sea. The terrace framed a dramatic view down over the coast at Minori and Maiori, where the lights on the twin waterfronts were shining brightly as the last streaks of red disappeared from the sky.

A quiet ‘click’ from the street caught Daniele’s attention, and he turned to see Giacomo emerging from the door to his apartment, dressed in dark colours. Wishing he’d thought to get changed himself, Daniele advanced to the archway and gestured to his friend. Giacomo snuck across the street and joined Daniele on the belvedere, his expression excited in the shadows.

“I can’t believe you actually came,” he whispered. “This is so weird.”

“I said I’d come, didn’t I?” Daniele replied. “Ciao, Giaco.”

“Ciao, Dani,” Giacomo replied, extending a fist for Daniele to bump.

“Where are we going tonight?” Daniele asked.

“I don’t normally have to go to Ettore this late,” Giacomo replied, “but he’s going to be travelling for a couple of days. I thought we could check out San Martino ‘cos… you know… it’s on the way.”

“Isn’t it mostly houses round there?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo shrugged. “Ettore takes houses if that’s all I can find. Come on, Dani.”

They left the belvedere and set off along the street. It was more or less full dark now; they stole through the shadows as they made their way down to the square with the fountain. They were careful not to be seen as they passed the hotel where Daniele’s mother worked; the nagging feeling of guilt returned, but Daniele’s pulse was racing and, as they made their way up the narrow street beyond the square, he became swept up again by the excitement of their mission.

“How many times have you done this, Giaco?” Daniele asked as they passed between the old buildings. Here and there, lights glimmered behind open shutters.

“Shh!” Giacomo replied quietly. “We’re passing Marco’s house.”

Daniele bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder nervously until the row of little houses disappeared from view. They slipped through another archway and broke out into a tiny square.

“I dunno,” Giacomo said. “A few times. I’ve been doing this for a couple of months, ever since…” But he left the last remark unfinished.

The street through San Martino began as a broad flight of steps that led up past an imposing curved wall of houses. Now, Giacomo became focused.

“What are we looking for?” Daniele whispered.

“We’re checking out anywhere that looks empty. Look through the windows. Ettore’s interested in anywhere that doesn’t look secure or that has stuff worth stealing.”

Daniele’s earlier excitement had sputtered out now that he faced the reality of the task. He tried to do as he was told, but his heart wasn’t in it. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ordinary people who lived in these houses, and the effect it would have on them if they were burgled. He wondered how his friend could stand it.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Daniele whispered after a while.

“It’s all right,” Giacomo replied, placing an understanding hand on his shoulder for a second. “Just don’t give us away, okay?”

Daniele nodded and followed his friend silently up the empty street, watching as he clambered up to peer through darkened windows. Giacomo produced a notepad from somewhere and jotted down what looked like a couple of house numbers and a scribbled note about their contents.

“Ettore’s usually okay if I give him a couple of addresses each time,” Giacomo whispered. “He doesn’t need too many.”

Before long, they had emerged from among the houses, arriving at the cemetery. Concrete tombs stood in terraced ranks below them, their photos and inscriptions illuminated by artificial candles that glimmered dimly in the night. The terracotta roof tiles and floral tributes that brightened the scene by day made little impression on the darkness.

“It’s a long walk to Sambuco,” Giacomo said quietly, his dark eyes attentive in the gloom. “Are you sure you want to come?”

Daniele nodded again. “I’m going with you,” he replied.

Giacomo smiled. “Cool. Let’s go, then.”

They followed the street until it merged with the main Naples road. For a moment, Daniele imagined what it would be like if his father’s taxi were to pass by at that moment.

That would be an amazing way to be busted.

But the road remained deserted, and the two boys stole across it to the safety of the quiet road down to Sambuco.

The valley road was lit periodically by street lights, creating bright spots of light in the gloom. Daniele felt better, somehow, to be back among the trees and rocks of the countryside; away from the empty gazes of those blank windows, he could breathe easier. They walked down the gentle hill together, sticking to the shadows wherever they could.

“I kinda like this,” Daniele said.

“Like what?” Giacomo asked, glancing at him with eyebrows raised.

“Being out here, at night, with you,” Daniele replied.

Giacomo gave him a smile. “Yeah, it’s kinda cool.”

“But I hate what you’re doing,” Daniele went on, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s wrong.”

Giacomo glanced at his feet. “Yeah, I know.” He paused, before adding awkwardly, “You know, I only give Ettore the addresses of people who look like they can… afford it.”

He glanced up at Daniele, perhaps hoping for some sort of validation, but Daniele could tell from the look in his eyes that he already knew it made no real difference.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, passing a few isolated properties as they approached the first built-up area of the village.

“I saw Toto earlier,” Daniele said. “They’re onto Ettore, you know. I think… they might try to bring him down.”

“Good,” Giacomo replied.

Daniele frowned. “I thought you said you needed the money?”

“We do, but…” Giacomo began, but then he faltered. “Ah, forget it. You know how I feel about doing all this. I just… can’t explain.”

They passed through the first proper cluster of houses and then they were out in the open again, passing the layby where Daniele had hidden last time. The log pile was still there, untouched since their earlier visit. They walked the last few metres and paused in the gap between two streetlights, at the top of the staircase that led down through the terraced plantations towards Ettore’s house. Giacomo fished a small battery-powered torch out of his pocket.

It was now or never; Daniele decided to play his final gambit. He took Giacomo’s hand in his own and tugged at it gently.

“Let’s just go back, Giaco,” he said. “Forget about Ettore and his money! Let him go down all alone with his stupid scheme.”

For a moment, the other boy looked tempted. His dark eyes flickered briefly to their entwined hands and then back up to Daniele’s blue ones.

“I wish I could,” he replied, tugging his hand away, “but I don’t have a choice.”

Daniele couldn’t think of anything else to say. Shoving his hands in his pockets again, he looked down at his feet, scuffing the tarmac with the tips of his shoes.

“I have to do this part on my own,” Giacomo said, forcing Daniele to meet his gaze once again. His expression was open, vulnerable. “But having you come this far means a lot. Will you wait for me?”

Daniele nodded. “I’ll meet you by the log pile.”

The other boy responded with a smile that was strangely beautiful.

“Thanks, Dani.”

Giacomo lit his torch and disappeared off down the steps that led into the valley. Thoughtfully, Daniele wandered back to the layby, his eyes mainly on the tarmac. When he reached the log pile, he glanced up briefly to lean on it, then did a double take.

Daniele stared along the road, squinting into the darkness. For a split second, he could have sworn he glimpsed a running figure among the houses, disappearing around the bend where the road continued up the valley.

Maybe I’m just seeing things.

* * *

Daniele arrived home just as his father was parking his taxi in the street. He hid in the shadows at the foot of the steps down from town until he was sure Paolo had gone inside, then he stole onto the sun terrace and slipped in through his bedroom window, using his parents’ voices for cover as they conversed in the kitchen.

He would have liked a shower, but there was no way of taking one now without raising awkward questions, so he got changed quietly and slipped straight into bed. Washing could wait until the morning.

Exhausted, Daniele lay back with his head on his hands for a while, staring at the darkened ceiling. He had tried to persuade Giacomo to break off his arrangement with Ettore, and he had failed. There was nothing he could do, now, to prevent Toto, Salvatore and the other victims from trying to bring Ettore’s scheme down. He could only hope that Giacomo would escape it all unscathed. He wondered how Giacomo would feel if he found out the part Daniele had played in exposing the identity of the perpetrator.

All Daniele could think to do, now, was to stick by Giacomo and try to be a good friend if things got tough.

With that thought, he closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him.

* * *

At lunchtime the next day, Daniele assumed his usual position on the outside wall of the terrace. Giacomo had done one of his temporary disappearing acts again and, for the moment, was nowhere to be seen, so Daniele ate alone.

Daniele had just finished eating his sandwich when something small struck him in the chest. He saw an old, dried-up pinecone, probably from the tree in the centre of the terrace, bouncing away across the thin grass.

He looked up and came face-to-face with Marco. Daniele stood up hurriedly, suddenly possessed by the irrational notion that Marco might try to push him off the wall.

The smaller boy stood nearly a head shorter than Daniele, but he squared up to him boldly all the same. Emilia was hovering a couple of metres away, looking uncomfortable.

Up close, Daniele saw that Marco’s blue check shirt was old and faded and his jeans were almost worn through at the knees. The shaggy hair that surrounded his mousy face needed cutting. His grey eyes, though, burned fiercely.

“What have you done to Giaco?” he demanded.

“Done?” Daniele replied. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Yes you have!” the smaller boy cried. “You must have! You’ve turned him against us somehow. He won’t even talk to us anymore.”

“I swear, we’re just friends.” Daniele protested. “We…” he went on, but Marco cut him off.

“Save it,” Marco spat. He lowered his voice so only Daniele and Emilia could hear. “I saw you together last night, going for your secret little walk, holding hands…”

Suddenly, Daniele knew he hadn’t imagined that retreating figure in the darkness.

What can I say?

“I…” he floundered.

From the look on Marco’s face, Daniele could tell that the smaller boy took his silence for an admission of guilt.

“You can’t just take my best friend away like that,” he hissed. “We’re going to fight, Daniele.”

“Fight…?” Emilia broke in; apparently, she hadn’t known this part of the plan. “Marco, don’t be stupid!”

The smaller boy silenced her with a glare, before turning back to Daniele. “I’ll be looking for you,” he said. “Just as soon as I find you on your own…”

He turned and stormed off. Emilia spared Daniele a short, troubled glance, and then followed him. Daniele watched them go, his mouth hanging open in shock.

He had never fought anyone in his life, not for real. Would the smaller boy follow through on his threat? What was he supposed to do?