Nadia Dalbuono (2015) The American

Nadia Dalbuono (2015) The American

The American is one of a series of books featuring Detective Leone Scamarcio. Daluono’s book was published before the election of the moron’s moron Trump, when the idea of destabilising society—with false-flag operations—and saving democracy by appointing a dictator belonged in Roman History and not current affairs.

The CIA has been at work at home and abroad assassinating presidents and asset-stripping countries on behalf of American corporations. Geopolitics being what you did to them—my country right or wrong—not what they did to you, which would be unethical, unjustified and an act or war, such as 9/11.

All those things that we don’t really count, or see, unless we’re bean counters or CIA.

 One of their rogue agents is found hanged. An apparent suicide. Scamarcio is sent to investigate. The similarities to Robert Calvi, dubbed ‘God’s Banker’ is clear, because of his money laundering for the Vatican Bank, and Mafia and the insider dealing of P2 (the Catholic’s own Masons, (which is a bit of an oxymoron). Calvi was found hanging at Greyfriars, London, 1982.

The Sant’Angelo death also has rubble in his pocket.  Someone is sending out a heavy handed hint, a coded message. When a Cardinal is murdered days later and the CIA sent out some heavies to warn off Scamarcio, he digs deeper, endangering himself and everything he believes in.

Italy is in the throes of yet another crisis. Murder, corruption and espionage are endemic. The CIA likes to employ other to do their dirty work. But this seems a little heavy-handed. When Scarmarcio overhears a conversation the station’s pathologist and an agreement to lose evidence, it’s just another day. He jokes that if the government could tax the Mafia that would bring in an extra 60 billion Euros a year. He doesn’t want to know how his dad got the cash to pay for the city-centre apartment he was living in. Like him, his dad was a cop. He owes his uncle a favour. He’s also a cop that runs his own gang that trades in information and favours, while pulling a salary that wouldn’t cover noodle soup. Everyone owns someone and everyone owes someone a favour. Italian spaghetti. But don’t just look to Rome, look closer to home. Read on.