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.