Chapter 26 - Fulfilling a need

The fog that hovered over the streets of the neighborhood that night was so thick that it was virtually impossible to make out even the outline of things or people if they were more than twenty meters away. Although the streetlights illuminated the haze with their warm amber light, the atmosphere in the air was gloomy, almost ghostly.

Judging by their style and neglected appearance, the dingy tenements that faced the sidewalk along which he was proceeding must have dated back to the early 2000s, while the wall that bordered it seemed to show many more.

Its surface infiltrated by moisture, when not by actual patches of moss and mold, was largely covered with graffiti of all shapes and colors, except in places where the plaster had succumbed to neglect, revealing the brick structure beneath.

Not a single leaf stood out on the foliage of the beech and ash trees that could be glimpsed beyond the worn-out wall, within what used to be the boundaries of Monza Park, although a few timid sprouts had nevertheless decided to tempt fate, sprouting several weeks in advance of the arrival of the beautiful season.

An old Skoda with electric blue bodywork sped along the stretch of road adjacent to the sidewalk, suddenly slowing its pace only when it came time to turn into a side alley.

Alessandro kept his eye on the car until he saw it disappear inside the alley, but then returned his focus to what was in front of him. With his hands stuffed in the pockets of the fallow-colored coat he was wearing, he continued walking, keeping his gaze on the man who was only about twenty meters away from him, just straddling the spot where the fog threatened to engulf his figure.

He stood leaning against the wall, next to a no-parking sign with faded lettering, checking his cell phone with an absorbed expression, but when it became clear that Alessandro was not intending to overtake him, he quickly put the Smartphone away and squared it cautiously.

He was a man in his mid-30s with curly hair, a hollowed-out face and olive skin. He wore a padded jacket with the logo of a well-known soccer team on it, as well as a pair of jeans that were clearly too baggy for him. His breath smelled of cigarettes, and although he must have tried to cover the smell with some strong mint balsamic candy, the hint of tobacco seeping from his lips was unmistakable.

"Can I help you?" he asked simply.

Although he was at least twenty centimeters shorter than his interlocutor, the man did not seem at all intimidated by his size, just as he did not seem at all impressed by the hard face Alessandro concealed under his hood.

''Maybe so,'' he hissed in response.

''Tell me what you need and I'll tell you if I have it.''

Alessandro peeked out of the corner of his eye in both directions of the sidewalk, and when he was satisfied that no one was emerging from the fog, he continued on.

''Money''

The man raised an eyebrow.

''If it's a code word I'm afraid you'll have to translate,'' he retorted quietly.

''I don't need what you're selling, I need the money you have,'' Alessandro confessed, pulling his hands out of his pockets. ''This is a robbery.''

And to further emphasize the point he clenched both fists.

Following that threat, the drug dealer gave him an inscrutable look, within which, however, fear seemed totally absent. It was difficult to determine whether his courage was truly sincere, but if not, it was undoubtedly one of the most successful bluffs he had ever witnessed.

''Do you know who I work for?" he asked in a surprisingly quiet tone.

''I don't care,'' Alessandro hissed through clenched teeth. ''Just give me the money.''

The man merely stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then let out a resigned sigh.

''Whatever''

As if to confirm to him the goodness of his intentions, the man gave Alessandro an eloquent look, slowly brought his fingers closer to the zipper of his jacket, and acting always with the utmost serenity he lowered it just enough to be able to slip his hand under the garment, as if to retrieve money from the inside pocket.

At that point, however, the drug dealer pulled out neither wallet nor banknotes, but rather a burnished, short-barreled revolver, which, without hesitating for even a second, he promptly pointed at him in a sudden snap.

Alessandro was not surprised at all. After all, he had expected it. His grip tightened on the barrel of the weapon at practically the same instant the man turned it against him, and after wrenching it from his hand he snapped it in half with a sharp snap.

Caught off guard by the speed of the gesture, the man could do nothing but watch helplessly with his eyes widened as the bullets shot out of the shattered drum, then clinked to the ground.

At that point, before he could even recover from his shock, Alessandro placed his forearm on his neck and immobilized him by pushing him against the wall.

''I don't have time for bullshit!" he growled, uncovering his teeth inches from her face. ''Give me all the money you have on you right now or I'll break something.''

''No, no, it's fine!'' Panting heavily, the drug dealer raised his hands and swallowed. ''Go ahead and take the money. I keep it in my vest pocket.''

Without stopping to hold him down, Alessandro slipped his free hand into the pocket that the man had indicated to him with a nod, and when he heard the rustle of paper under his fingers he pulled out the roll of banknotes it contained.

As soon as he had freed him to count the money, the drug dealer immediately looked in the direction of the fog hovering at the end of the sidewalk, but having sensed his intentions, Alessandro fulminated him with a glare so threatening that it nipped in the bud any, if even the slightest, hope of escape.

Having gained confidence that he had averted that risk, he then resumed counting the bills. Fifty, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, a hundred and fifty, a hundred and sixty...

What, that's it?!

''It's too little,'' Alessandro commented disappointedly, waving the money in midair impatiently. ''I need more.''

''I don't have more,'' retorted the dealer, massaging his neck. ''I just started my shift and this is a slow night.''

Alessandro shoved the money into his pocket.

''Where can I find more?''

"What do you take me for?" blurted the drug dealer indignantly.

Frowning suddenly Alessandro snapped forward and pushed the man back against the wall, then pressed his forearm against his neck.

''For someone who very soon will have to rush to the hospital!" he hissed, barely holding back his anger.

Unable to bear the sight from his grim expression, the dealer looked away.

''I mean, what do you want me to say?" he complained desperately.

Alessandro was about to respond when an echo of footsteps on the asphalt forced him to interrupt. Both he and his hostage immediately turned their eyes in the direction of that part of the sidewalk from which the noise came, but although at first it almost seemed as if a human silhouette was emerging from the fog, eventually this seemed to change its mind, and it disappeared back into the mist.

''Who do you work for?" asked Alessandro, returning his focus to the one he kept trapped. ''Who do you deliver the money to at the end of your shift?''

''To people you don't want to meet,'' the drug dealer revealed dryly.

''This is my problem,'' Alessandro retorted, gritting his teeth.

''Even if I told you, you would gain nothing from it,'' the man confided to him with the air of someone who wanted to do him a favor. ''You would be killed as soon as you crossed the threshold.''

''All the more reason you have no reason not to speak,'' Alessandro insisted simply.

The drug dealer contracted the muscles of his face in an expression of pure bewilderment.

''You're crazy,'' he commented indignantly.

Alessandro's eyes narrowed to slits.

''I am one who has nothing to lose,'' he corrected him in a harsh tone, ''except patience.''

She pushed him against the wall, further increasing the pressure exerted on his neck. The man let out a stifled gasp as he desperately tried to pull his arm away with his hands. Finally, when he realized that his hopes of breaking free were completely nonexistent, he threw his pride to the wind and nodded.

''Okay,'' he mumbled in a whisper. 

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