The Blood of Crows Read Online Free Page B

take a taxi.
    She clicked the TV on to Missing , the occasional morning tear fest. The screen filled with Lorraine Kelly’s concerned face, holding the picture of a six-year-old boy. Something sparked a glimmer in Costello’s memory. She knew that face. Remembered the case. She picked up the remote control and turned the sound up.
    Lorraine was now holding a book up to the camera. Little Boy Lost. ‘Now, Simone,’ she was saying, ‘you can’t deny that this is a very sensitive issue to write a book about.’
    The camera homed in on the face of the author, investigative journalist Simone Sangster. ‘Yes, I know, and that’s what makes it so important. Somebody had to be brave enough to write the book. It was a very tragic case. It still is today. Alessandro was only six years old when he disappeared, along with the babysitter, a family friend, who was just seventeen himself. Nobody has ever been charged with any crime relating to their disappearance, and I can’t help feeling that it’s a stain on the reputation of the Strathclyde police force that this boy, Alessandro Marchetti, could be kidnapped and his body never found. I feel that the families are owed a reinvestigation of this case. They need to know what happened that night, and to see those responsible brought to justice.’
    ‘It was the McGregors or the O’Donnells that did it, and yet nothing ever got pinned on the Glasgow mafia,’ Costello mumbled, thinking. ‘Aye, but it was the beginning of the end for the old regime. Bet you don’t dare say that in your bloody book.’
    ‘And do you really think that’s likely to happen after all this time?’ asked Lorraine, her brows furrowed in concern.
    ‘I just hope that some good comes out of all my research, that the police reopen the case, and hopefully get to the bottom of what actually happened.’
    Simone continued to witter on, explaining that her shocking theory that the family had been involved was just one of the many being explored, such as gangland activity, or the babysitter being complicit, which was why the legal action by the boy’s parents had failed to prevent publication. All Simone wanted to do was selflessly bring it to the attention of the public once again.
    ‘And make a few quid while you’re at it,’ Costello said to the TV as she pressed the mute button. For a while, Lorraine and the lovely Simone chatted on animatedly in silence. Then a still from a newspaper report appeared; Costello recognized Waterstone’s in Glasgow. The day before, Simone had launched her book in the very city where the kidnap had taken place. Costello couldn’t resist flicking the volume back on. The event hadn’t lasted long. Maria Marchetti, the boy’s mother, had pulled Simone off her chair at the signing. Lorraine suggested that the poor woman must be under great emotional strain. Simone nodded, graciously confirming that she would not press charges.
    ‘Not up to you to press charges, you silly cow,’ muttered Costello. ‘It’s up to the fiscal.’
    ‘… but there have been at least three cases recently of people apparently coming back from the dead, having been held captive for many years. There have been two notorious cases in Austria, and one in the States.’ Simonepaused, then said, ‘And there has never been a trace of Alessandro’s body despite the searches made at the time. He would be nearly twenty now. The babysitter, Tito Piacini, would be in his early thirties.’
    Lorraine leaned forward. ‘Do you think he could still be alive? Surely if Tito was alive, he would come forward?’
    Simone slid out from under the question. ‘All I’m saying is that the family need closure.’
    ‘No, they bloody don’t,’ Costello snorted, thinking about her own family. ‘Believe me, hen, you don’t want closure where your family’s concerned. You want a gun.’ She pressed the mute again and flung the remote at the TV. It missed and skidded into the skirting board.
    She stretched out