The Silence of the Wave Read Online Free Page B

them up was the least we could do, from the point of view of justice, so that they didn’t get the idea that it was all a joke and that crime was a risk-free business.”
    “Was it true about the judges?”
    “Not at all. I never knew a properly conducted arrest—I mean an arrest without strong-arm tactics—that ended up in the criminals walking free. The truth is, most of the people doing the beating up just aren’t very good detectives.”
    “But you told me you—”
    “Oh, yes, I used my fists—sometimes you can’t avoid it. It was the idea of beating someone up just for the hell of it that I couldn’t take. When colleagues of mine worked a suspect over, I’d intervene and make them stop whenever I could. The suspect gets a good idea of who he’s dealing with. They realized I was stopping my colleagues not because I was playing good-cop-bad-cop, but because I actually wanted them to stop. That was why a lot of them started to trust me. I’d see them when they got out, chat with them, I even became friends with a few of them. To cut a long story short, I started to build up a network of informants. Some of them I’d meet in discos and clubs where we could talk in peace. And in those places I’d get to know other people. They liked me and I made friends easily. Except these weren’t normal friendships. I became friendswith dealers, junkies, pimps, people like that. I’d been in narcotics for a year and I already had more informants than marshals who’d been working there for ten years or more.”
    Roberto realized that he was remembering a lot of these things at the very moment he talked about them. Or rather, only because of the fact that he had started talking about them. The time passed quickly, and for the first time the doctor did not notice until a bit later that the fifty minutes of the session were already up.
    “All right, I think we’ll call it a day. It’s been very interesting. Keep taking your medication regularly, and I’ll see you on Monday. I’m pleased with your progress.”
    Roberto stood up. As usual they shook hands at the door, with Roberto already out on the landing. He had started down the stairs when he heard the doctor’s voice calling him.
    “Oh, Roberto …”
    “Yes?” he said, leaning on the banister and looking up.
    “You look better with your hair and beard short. You did the right thing getting a haircut. Have a good evening.”
    The door closed before Roberto could think of an answer.

Giacomo
    The morning after my encounter with Ginevra, I greeted her when I entered the classroom and tried to smile, which isn’t something I usually find easy to do. She was surprised for a moment, but then she returned the greeting and even the smile, and I felt my legs go weak.
    During the lessons, which I followed even less than usual, I wondered if by any chance she’d met me in a dream too. Maybe we’d both had the same dream, or maybe that park really exists and it’s a place where people meet at night and become friends and things actually happen.
    On second thought, I realized it was an absurd idea but at that moment, daydreaming in class, and especially after Ginevra had greeted me and smiled, everything seemed natural, everything seemed possible.
    * * *
    After a few nights of vague, meaningless dreams, I went back to the park. It happened a different way this time.I was under the blankets, after reading
The Neverending Story
for ten minutes. I’d switched the light off and closed my eyes for a few seconds when I saw Scott come in through the door and sit down at the foot of my bed.
    I have to confess this apparition scared me a bit, partly because Scott wasn’t saying anything. He just sat there, looking at me, and I even wondered if it was really him or another dog that looked like him. I felt almost paralyzed: I’d have liked to get up or say something but couldn’t. I don’t know how long it lasted, but after a while Scott went to the window.
    Let’s go,