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    Never More Than Twice
    Never More Than Twice
    Never More Than Twice
    Ebook96 pages1 hour

    Never More Than Twice

    By Claudio Ruggeri

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    About this ebook

    A message found in a bottle and the curiosity of an antiquarian lead Vincent Germano to launch an investigation, the conclusion of which can only be at the limits of improbability. The chief will often be surrounded by persons to whom he will have to give an explanation, issue an order or ask for advice, but in fact he will be alone, as are all those who are seeking the truth.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBadPress
    Release dateDec 19, 2018
    ISBN9781507154915
    Never More Than Twice
    Author

    Claudio Ruggeri

    Claudio Ruggeri, 30岁。出生于Grottaferrata (罗马)。现为从业人员，前裁判员。他遍游各地，在美国呆了很久，2007年回到意大利。写作是一直以来他的最大爱好。

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      Book preview

      Never More Than Twice - Claudio Ruggeri

      Author’s Note

      This book is fictional.

      Any reference to actual events and/or real people that appear within it is purely coincidental.

      Chapter 1

      ––––––––

      The warm air, typical of mornings in late May, had convinced the chief not to waste too much time with breakfast and to spend part of the day working in his garden.

      In fact, those three hundred square meters, purchased only a few months earlier from an old man who was no longer up to the work, could not yet be described as a cornucopia of fruit and vegetables that would make your mouth water just looking at it.

      Germano had therefore decided that he would work in it at least one day a week until his garden was knocked into shape.

      For the time being, however, the chief had devoted several days of his vacation time in order to make that mass of uncultivated land, filled with rocks and stones, to at least begin to look like a garden.

      He dedicated that particular May morning to planting tomatoes in that part of the ground that was already fit for use.  This, Germano accomplished with very little difficulty but with such satisfaction that, when done, he sat down on the ground to admire his work.

      What was so artistic and worthy of admiration in a hundred bamboo canes sticking up from the ground was unclear, and probably could only be understood by the chief himself.

      After he finished his cigarette he decided that perhaps it was time to get up and finish watering since it was well past noon and the heat was beginning to take its toll.

      He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and while he was trying to make sure that each of his tomato plants got watered, the chief noticed someone approaching the gate that separated the small plot of land from the road.

      Seeing that the person gave no sign of wishing to leave, Germano decided to put down the hose and walk over to the entrance.

      When he got closer he recognized a familiar face.

      Hey Vincent ...

      Hi Mario...

      Dressed like that I didn’t recognize you right away ... I thought I’d wait without yelling out your name.

      No problem ... come on in.

      Mario Pezza was an old friend of the chief. A few years previously there had been an investigation into the theft of some art stolen from Pezza’s antique shop.  Once the case was closed, and the thieves arrested, the two had remained friends.

      What brings you here ...?

      Nothing special Vincent ... I was passing by your house so I thought I’d try your entryphone, your wife told me that I could find you here, so ...

      Germano frowned suddenly.  This caused his friend to modify his approach.

      ... sometimes I forget that you're a cop Vincent ... that way I can convince myself that you might believe my bullshit ...

      OK, that’s better Mario.  However, let's sit down first.

      Germano went over to an old bench, while his friend sat in the chair previously occupied by the chief.

      To tell the truth, Vincent, something a bit strange happened to me a few days ago ...

      Tell me about it.

      This guy came into my store, Giovanni De Lillo.  I don’t know if you know him but he’s an old retired teacher and ...

      Ok, yes, of course I know him.  I often see him in the morning at the café.

      Well ... I don’t know if you're aware of the fact that some time ago he had a mild heart attack, so ...

      No, I didn’t know that, but that explains why I hadn’t seen him for a while, but go on.

      The doctor told him he should take walks from time to time, in order to improve his condition.  He began taking these walks early in the morning.  He’d take his dog and go out to those parts of the woods above Grottaferrata where there’s that little stream.

      I don’t know that area very well but don’t worry, keep going.

      He said he’d found a bottle a few days ago with a message inside, a regular letter-size piece of paper on which someone had written some lines.  Giovanni, believing it to be something coming from who knows where, like in the movies, came to me right away and asked me to fix it up for him.

      Fix it up for him?

      Yes . . . a bit of water and moisture must have gotten into the bottle so that the message was almost completely faded.  Our friend Giovanni must have believed that he had found who knows what and asked me to make it legible again and to prepare a small frame for it...

      And I suppose that you don’t share his views ...

      You guessed right, Vincent ... I tried to be honest with the old teacher, but in the end he just didn’t want to know, I think he’s convinced ...

      Excuse me if I interrupt ... but could you read what was written?

      The point is precisely that, Vincent ... Giovanni is convinced it’s a love letter from who knows what time, while I on the other hand ...

      Okay, fill me in.

      There is really little to add, the words that I could make out, or rather some parts of them, a maximum of six or seven, seem to be help and death." Actually only the h and part of the e of the first word are legible, but I could not work out any other meaning."

      What can you tell me about the rest?

      Not much, there may be another half word like deat, which in fact should mean death but ... I don’t know, maybe it's all bullshit but I thought I should let you know anyway.

      You’ve done a good job, are you free for lunch?

      Yes, I closed the shop half an hour ago and I came to see you.  I’m free until three.

      "Perfect, now let’s go to my house and my wife will prepare us a nice plate of fettuccine.  Then you’ll show me that

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