Deep Sea

Chapter 8 - Alberta's doubts

The change fell into the coffee machine as if swallowed by a slot machine, a vibrating noise began and a plastic cup came out with a click from the hole, immediately afterwards a steaming liquid began to fall. It hadn't been a good idea to take the capciock, it was neither cappuccino nor chocolate but a hot swill with a vague foam that flattered the palate. But anyway, he needed a little sugar to cheer him up. He picked up the folder over his shoulder and a little courage, greeted his acquaintances in the editorial office with a raised hand, who reciprocated with a distracted hello, their gazes glued to the computer monitors. He pretended to go towards the elevator, looked around, there was no one in the corridor, and slipped into the warehouse, holding his breath. Andrea kept the check that Edo had just signed for him in his pocket. It involved the sale of a film about the fires of that torrid summer and he had done well to keep himself informed by a friend from the forestry department. He had shot his beautiful reportage up close, complete with close-ups of the firefighters and details of the Canadairs, he had proposed the thing to Edoardo Cresci and he had accepted it. A thousand euros wasn't a large amount but it served to supplement the income in a month of little weddings. No one would have taken that check away from him, not even if they had caught him poking his nose into their warehouses without a valid excuse. At most, Edo would no longer buy or commission a service from him for the rest of his days and Andrea wondered for the umpteenth time if it was really worth the risk of being caught red-handed.

There were two reasons that had pushed him to take the risk: first of all, in the heart of the summer, the TSTV editorial office was semi-deserted, only four editors and a couple of technicians; furthermore, he found the doubts confided to him by Alberta to be more than legitimate and when he thought about it, he there were several reasons to think that Valerio's death was not a simple accident. The interview with the Armenian, as far as he remembered, had not been particularly rich in details that could open some leads on the affairs linked to the trafficking of illegal immigrants, he knew that Valerio had returned to visit the non-EU citizen in prison, but what on earth could to have discovered that the investigators did not already know? After all, he tried to convince himself, what harm was there in seeing if the cassette was still in the editorial archives, and if it had been there then why had Edoardo denied Alberta the possibility of viewing or duplicating it?

The TSTV headquarters had the air of a large workshop without personality and without attention to furnishings, only the warehouse area had recently been refurbished, the whitewashed walls, the new shelves, the air conditioning system for the preservation of the tapes, the fire door half hidden from view, a few meters to the right of the elevator. He turned the knob and the door opened without a creak. He closed it behind him, almost leaning it against the jamb, making the lock slide like a wheel on a marble surface. The sound of footsteps was muffled by a thick layer of linoleum on the floor. Having crossed that threshold he already felt more confident. Dozens of shelves were positioned parallel to each other in such a way as to create sectors into which one could barely squeeze, just enough space to pass through, as in a narrow library. Next to each shelf, a plaque indicated the years and months of the broadcasts and thousands of betacam format video cassettes slid in a row, one after the other in their black cases with labels written in marker. TSTV had been broadcasting since 1979, it was therefore an archive rich in history of the city and the entire north-east of Italy, a heritage to be carefully preserved, keeping it in that dark room, illuminated only by the light coming from two horizontal windows , in the upper part of the walls, with frosted glass, and an electronic system that maintained constant temperature and humidity. All the material from that year was collected on the bottom shelf.

Andrea had no difficulty finding the cassette he was looking for. It was among the few non-standard ones and he immediately recognized it by the brand on the label. On the side was written in pen - Armeno Interview - and the date. Everything coincided. Andrea took it off the shelf and put it in his pocket. The DV format is such that it allows excellent digital definition of the footage and a tape size smaller than a pack of cigarettes. Suddenly the light turned on. Andrea felt his heart in his throat. He crouched down quickly and saw the door close, while a pair of black loafers was heading towards him. He held his breath. From that position he could not see the man's face. He had the excuse ready on the tip of his tongue, a set of rambling sentences, an unforgivable impulse due to his damned curiosity, a simple visit to the newly renovated archive... The moccasins turned into the sector of the previous year and the young photographer, almost lying on the ground with his back to the wall, he closed his eyes. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead onto one eyelid. The man's presence in the archive lasted a few minutes but to Andrea, who had decided to hold his breath, it seemed like hours. The light went out and the door closed. The moccasins had left without realizing anything. Andrea wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. When he stood up his legs were shaking.