Bella Italia Read online

  24

  January

  Detective Carlo Martuccia opened the front door to his apartment and stepped inside. He walked into the living room, where the TV was on. His wife, Ciara, got up from the couch and kissed him.

  “Hi, honey,” Martuccia said. “How was your day?”

  Ciara shrugged her shoulders. “Long and tiring. Those alternating shifts are exhausting.”

  Martuccia acted surprised and said sarcastically, “Oh, really?” As a detective, he always had alternating shifts, so he knew exactly how she felt.

  Ciara went along with his act. She made a disappointed face and playfully pushed him away from her. “Go away—you’re mean.”

  Martuccia quickly stepped forward again and took her in his arms. “Oh, baby, I’ve longed for you all day.”

  She let out a sigh and relaxed somewhat. “I’ve longed for you, too, my big, strong policeman.”

  “Well, I don’t know about the strong part anymore. I’m wiped out, too.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Ciara answered mockingly. “It’s hard sitting around all day in your office and ending the day with dinner with all of your colleagues, recapping the latest developments in all of your cases. All of this on the government’s tab, of course, with excellent food and wine. Yeah, I can imagine you must be completely exhausted by the time it’s eleven thirty.”

  Martuccia grinned. “Unfortunately, your description is not exactly consistent with reality. The food and wine were indeed good, but that can’t really be said of the atmosphere. It is a miracle that we didn’t come to blows with each other.”

  Ciara was suddenly serious. “Was it that bad?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. But enough about work.” He held his hand just above his Adam’s apple. “The shit that happened tonight, I’ve really had it up to here.”

  Ciara pinched him in his arm and winked. “But now you’re home. Go and have a look at the little one and freshen up. Meanwhile, I’ll open up a bottle of wine.”

  “Good plan.” He kissed her quickly and turned around. “I’ll be right back.”

  As quietly as possible, he walked into Gianni’s bedroom. He pushed the door handle down slowly, opened the door, and carefully walked inside. With extreme precision, he pulled up a chair with wheels to the crib and sat down quietly.

  Every time he looked at his son it warmed his heart. Especially when he was sleeping so angelically like this. During the day it was usually a very different story, the little devil.

  He was really blessed. With his wife, with his family. Both his own mother as well as Ciara’s mother were always ready to help. The two grandmothers also often came up with great tips and ideas that were very helpful in helping to raise little Gianni. Those tips could be about a variety of things: tricks to help him eat, to help him fall asleep, or to do something simple that would keep him entertained for hours. When it came to raising children, these experienced women had an answer for everything. While he watched his little son now, he could feel himself become more relaxed. What a beautiful little boy he was.

  During moments like this, he felt he didn’t see enough of him, but he also knew that he had found his calling in doing his type of work and that he had to do it, no matter what. His mother and mother-in-law had set up a type of work schedule amongst themselves, so that they could take care of their grandchild when both Ciara and he had to work at the same time. They did the same thing for a few of their other grandchildren whose parents both worked. It was a mystery to him how they managed to spend all that time with all their grandchildren. But they did it out of love and didn’t want to hear a thing about spending their free time any other way. This is what they loved doing the most with their free time! It was also a tradition held in very high regard with both families.

  Everything revolved around the children, he thought. He grew up in a safe haven in Italy. Maybe that is why he became a police officer—to keep the streets safe for children? For his own child? It sounded like such a cliché, but during tonight’s dinner, which was actually more of an office meeting, it seemed to him that this view was shared by many of his colleagues. Many of them had children and because of that they all had a big problem with the decision made by the corps leadership today. As of now, the Monster of Garda murder case was officially closed. In the eyes of the general public, that is something that had already happened months ago, but internally, within the department, his team had managed to stretch out the investigation with very limited resources. But from now on, the murder of the German boy Mats would go into record as solved, even though almost all of his colleagues saw it as a typical cold case. Even if everyone in upper management was convinced that the homeless man Ottavio Galli was the killer, they knew better. In their eyes, management was making a big mistake. Maybe even a very crucial mistake, one that could come back to haunt them one day.

  Even though he shared his colleague’s opinion, he could still sympathize with the decisions made by his superiors. The number of robberies was on the rise, drug use had increased (which, in turn, made the drug trade flourish), and the problems with immigrants were spiraling out of control. He had heard loaded phrases like “limited budget” and “shifting priorities” used once too often. Nobody had a say in anything anymore. It wasn’t said in so many words, but if you had any insurmountable objections to anything at all, you could just pack your bags and leave. This decision was final and irrevocable. He had to keep his job. For his wife and child.

  Carlo stood up slowly. He leaned over and gave his son a kiss on the forehead as gently as possible. Gianni moved for a moment and Carlo froze, but his son continued his sleep soundly. Carlo sent him an air kiss and carefully walked to the door. He was looking forward to sharing a nice glass of wine with his wife. Once they started talking, the job stress usually disappeared into the background, and he could finally begin to fully enjoy his evening.

  A wonderful prospect.

  25

  Petra opened a beer for Hans. She decided on a bottle of water for herself, which seemed wiser for now. It was ten thirty; Niels was asleep and Hans was watching TV. This was the ideal moment to have the talk she’d been dreading.

  After her parents and sister had gone home on Christmas Eve and Niels had gone to bed, she had stayed up and talked with Hans. He had asked her how she was doing and said that he could see her suffering in all of this, but she had responded defensively, despite her good intentions to talk to him about it. She had wondered what could have happened that had made Niels react so intensely to the Brazilian soccer shirt. It had to be connected to their Italian vacation somehow. Had he seen something that he associated with that shirt? They would have to tell Irene about it as soon as possible, to see if she could get to the bottom of it. Hans had one arm around Petra and said that maybe she should go and see Irene as well. Petra had nodded in agreement, but suddenly felt empty and tired. She promised to talk about it again later, but wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

  As relaxed as Petra had always been, she now seemed to become irritated rather quickly. Every once in a while she felt like just forcing Niels and pulling the information out of him, and she was shocked by her own thoughts. Then she would console herself with the thought that they literally had tried everything to encourage his development. The karate lessons were a good example of this. At first, Niels had reacted surprised at their suggestion to participate in a fighter sport, but when they gave him the option to choose he became excited and chose karate. He had only had a few classes so far, but it was a start. They had taken another step. Hopefully, it was the right one, but that would remain to be seen.

  Although neither Hans nor she had said it out loud, small irritations in their relationship were also growing between them. Always about silly little things. Things you normally would move right past in a relationship. But this week Petra had reached her limit. She followed Liesbeth’s advice and scheduled a talk with Irene. There she let it all out. It had given her some relief, but had also left her feeli
ng alone and vulnerable. What was going to happen now? Would they simply have to accept the fact that they may never know exactly what had happened? Would Niels continue to have problems because of this for the rest of his life, or would he be all better by next year? They didn’t want to pressure him, but because of that it seemed as if he was becoming increasingly distant. He acted pretty normal these days, so in fact they should be happy, and maybe he was far more resilient then they gave him credit for? But what happened on Christmas Eve seemed to prove the opposite. Irene had said that she wanted to see how Niels responded to the karate lessons, but that Petra had to talk to Hans and work on regaining each other’s trust in order to truly support each other. There was nothing more difficult than asking for help, especially for parents who took the responsibility of their child as seriously as they did. But there was no way to be there for your child if you weren’t also there for each other. Petra knew this, and for the first time she also felt that things needed to change. Irene had complimented her on taking the first step and coming to talk to her. Now she also had to do this at home.

  She walked in to the living room, put the beer down in front of him on the table, and took a seat on the couch.

  Hans looked away from the TV quickly, saw the beer, and said, “Nice, thank you.”

  She took a sip of her water and took a long, deep breath. “What are you watching?”

  Hans made a serious face. “A news show. It’s always the same thing. Politicians fighting with each other. A lot of whining. I’m going to turn it off in a minute.”

  Petra nodded. “Okay, good.”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to talk to you tonight.”

  “Oh, okay.” He sounded a little hesitant. Hans had already turned the volume down, but now he turned the TV off. She had his full attention.

  Petra cleared her throat. “So, I went to see Irene. You were right. I had definitely reached my limit. I don’t say that to place any blame on you. I know you also did everything you could, and yet, we talk about it but we are never completely honest with each other about it. I can only speak for myself, but I have a feeling you haven’t told me everything going on with you either? You’ve kept quiet to spare me the trouble. I wanted to be strong for Niels, for you. I am no good to either one of you if I am an anxious mother and wife all the time. But now I see that this way I’ve been doing it doesn’t work. When I said last summer that we would get through this together, I didn’t know then what that really meant. I’d like to work on that now. Together with you.”

  Hans nodded. But somewhere deep inside it did bother him a little that she hadn’t told him she had made an appointment with Irene, though, at the same time, she had followed his own advice, and he couldn’t blame her for what he hadn’t done himself. He tried to shake the negative feeling and knew he needed to hear her out and that he needed to be honest with her now too.

  “I can see how hard you work at trying to stay as positive as possible in this difficult situation, and I think I manage to do okay with it as well,” she continued.

  “Not just okay!” Hans grinned. “You’re doing a terrific job. You are such a strong woman, Petra. I’m so incredibly proud of you!”

  “But still, there is friction, Hans. You know that just as well as I do. Small irritations and frustrations here and there that we try to hide, something we manage to do sometimes, but other times we don’t.”

  “But that isn’t really surprising is it? I mean we’ve had quite a lot to deal with. Now it’s karate lessons, which unintentionally brings some new tensions along with it. How will he respond to it? Will it be a success, or will it end in a drama?”

  Petra shook her head in disagreement. “No, I think that’s the normal stuff. At least I think those are normal reactions. Obviously, I’ve never experienced any of this before. But I see the karate lessons as an extension of his therapy. He’s only just started, but for now he seems excited about it. I hold on to that. But it’s not enough. I now realize that we have buried our feelings in order to come across as strong as possible. Because above all, we don’t want to burden the other with the problems we are facing personally. But if we fall apart, we will accomplish exactly the opposite result of our original goal.”

  Hans had put his hands under his chin while he listened and stared directly at her. He broke the sudden silence in the room. “I’m so glad you brought this up. I’ve been struggling with it myself, and I’ve been keeping everything to myself all this time. I thought that was the way to do it. But now I see that I was fooling myself. I have tried to discuss it with you, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about that, especially during those moments when you retreated. So let’s just be honest with each other from now on. How bad are things with you?”

  Petra shrugged her shoulders. “I will survive, but I think I would do much better if I could talk to you about all of it. I can see clearly now that it doesn’t work this way.”

  Hans got up right away, took a seat next to her, and put his arms around her. “I have so much to tell you and to share with you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  “I have a lot to tell you, too.” She felt the first tears forming and didn’t try to stop them.

  26

  March

  Ben Holdinga called his students together. He wanted to spend the last fifteen minutes of class on sparring, free-form dueling using a variety of techniques. The twelve students stopped their exercises and gathered right in front of him. The discipline was seeping in slowly but surely, which did him good. This was just a beginner’s class, with the students’ levels ranging from white to orange belts. You couldn’t expect them all to have the same iron will and discipline that you would find with the students in the advanced classes.

  “During the last fifteen minutes of class we’re going to do some sparring,” he said in a very relaxed manner. “In doing so, I only want to see you use the techniques we have learned during the past few weeks. Try to use everything you know, but only from what you have learned. Do not freestyle.” He mentioned that explicitly because there were a few students in this class who had changed over from different fighter sports to karate. Unconsciously, they used techniques from the other sports, which didn’t coincide with his sport and teaching technique.

  He divided the group into six pairs standing across from each other. When he clapped his hands, they took their starting position quickly.

  “Good luck,” he said and took a few steps back to create enough room for the beginners who, caught up in their enthusiasm, would probably give it their all.

  “Semi-contact,” he responded sternly after a few seconds, when a boy pounced down on his opponent’s body a little too hard. “The intention is not to hit air or injure someone. Your movements should be controlled and effective.”

  Things in the advanced classes might be far riskier and tougher, but because of the lack of control or any real experience the chance for injuries in this class was far greater. His attention was drawn to Eelco and Niels, two quiet boys, similar in stature and technique. Eelco was two years older than his opponent and a few inches taller. Eelco’s kick was technically very good. The ball of his foot touched Niels’s left shoulder. But instead of taking a step back, Niels stayed frozen in place for a moment. Eelco responded well by placing his weight forward and delivering a straight hit to Niels’s right shoulder. By doing so, Eelco had scored two points in no time at all, but suddenly Niels surprised him by stepping forward and delivering a series of superfast punches with his fists. By doing this, he not only violated the agreements about what techniques could be used, but his punches were also way too hard.

  “Stop!” Ben yelled out and walked toward Niels. Niels stopped immediately and looked at him, seeming slightly embarrassed, as if he wasn’t quite sure why he’d done it.

  Niels looked at Eelco for a moment, then at his own fists with a real sense of amazement and apologized.

  Eelco put up his thumb and smiled sheepishly. “It’s nothing to wor
ry about.”

  Ben had to make it very clear that he didn’t tolerate this kind of behavior in his class, but he could also see that Niels had not responded maliciously. It was more a type of instinctive reaction. He could clearly see the boy relax and feel relieved, but was that because he hadn’t hurt Eelco, or because he had surprised himself with his technique? He wasn’t sure. He thought about the conversation he had with the boy’s father. The man had explained to him that Niels had developed his own defense system and that his mood could change quickly. That he could get very angry, but could recover from it almost immediately. They hoped that karate could teach him a different type of self-control. He hadn’t noticed anything different during the other classes so far, but here he had seen a different side of Niels. He was going to have to keep a closer eye on him. Ben took a step back and clapped in his hands.

  “Okay, let’s go, gentlemen. Continue. This time no unauthorized techniques, or you can go hit the showers right away.”

  The boys bowed to their teacher quickly and took their starting positions again.

  27

  April

  Hans had to restrain himself from honking his horn as the car in front of him pulled away from the traffic light at a painfully slow pace.

  “Hurry up, man,” he growled, clenching his jaw tightly. “I don’t have all day.”

  It was a quarter to twelve in the afternoon and from the moment he’d gotten up he had been on the go constantly. It was one of those days that had started off chaotic and continued that way, and there seemed to be no end in sight to the madness. His patience was being tested again when the car ahead of him slowed down at the next yellow light, but he managed to keep his temper under control. “Good job, man! What a responsible driver you are. We need more of those. Preferably somewhere else, though, far away from Holland.”