‘Someone should kill him.’

Bruno didn’t reply.

‘Well, I don’t actually mean that, of course,’ Nando went on.

‘Not literally.’

‘No.’

‘As in a knife through the heart.’

‘For example.’

‘You were speaking allegorically.’

‘Er…yes.’

‘My client’s intention in allegedly uttering the phrase “Someone should kill him” was entirely euphemistic, not to say parabolic.’

‘Right. It’s just that if the smarmy bastard should happen to drop dead…’

‘Which God forbid.’

‘…then that would solve all our problems.’

‘Says who? The next one could be even worse.’

‘Worse than Curti? You must be joking.’

‘Plus you’re assuming that anyone in his right mind would be prepared to buy a club where half the players are on a loan or time-share deal with other teams, and the rest will be sold off at the end of the season to meet the budgetary shortfall. It would take years, not to mention very deep pockets, to turn i rossoblu around.’

‘All right, so hold the heart attack, cancel the stroke. Now what? One more season like this and I’ll…’

Nando broke off as the car’s headlights picked out an amazing pair of black legs displayed up to the white silk triangle of the crotch.

‘Keep your eyes on the road,’ Bruno grunted sourly.

‘Get stuffed.’

‘By her? Any time.’

‘Or him.’

‘With legs like that, who cares? God, I’m bored.’

Nando turned the radio back up.

‘…created several good chances, particularly in the second half, but this merely served to underline the thing that Bologna fans have been talking about all season, and in all honesty for many seasons past, namely the lack of a world-class striker who could capitalise on the many opportunities going to waste out there and put the ball in the net. The service from the wings and the midfield is always reliable and occasionally inspired, but when it comes to finishing it’s the same sad story week after week…’