Detective Rino Perone

                                                         Detective Rino Perone 

With the tenacity of a pitbull and irritability of a bear with hemorrhoids, Rino Perone is a cop with 30 years’ experience on the force. Think of the most heinous crimes imaginable and you can bet that Perone has encountered them. Too long in the tooth to change and too short on patience to care, the veteran cop is a legend within the Italian police department. Born into a family of career criminals the young Perone’s urge to become a lawman surfaced shortly after seeing his mother beaten to death by one of his father’s ‘business partners’. The hatred and pain stemming from this event fueled Perone to chase bad guys with a vengeance and gained him the nickname ‘The Bloodhound’. Personal experience has convinced him that sometimes you have to crack a few heads to reach the truth and that the ends do justify the means. But, sometimes inspiring fear in a suspect does the job just as well… Sometimes.


Perone stubbed out his cigar in the makeshift ashtray, much to the relief of Angelo who had been throwing irritated glances his way ever since he had first lit up in the strictly non-smoking interrogation suite.

“For the first few days you’ll be getting used to spending the rest of your life in an eight-by-nine cell. Then, just when you beginning to get settled in, the wolves will come a knocking, because all animals need companionship and in prison the inmates get lonely…real lonely. Some of them know they’ll probably never even see a woman again, let alone be with one…And that’s where you come in: young, supple-skinned and looking all fresh.” Perone rubbed his chin and winced, painfully. “Usually, the first time round, a bunch of muscle heads will run a train on you…They’ll just line up outside your cell, all wanting to ‘welcome you’ to the neighborhood’. Afterwards your poor little sphincter’s gonna feel like someone’s pried it open with a fucking crowbar. A few more years of the good life and you’ll be able to crack off the biggest fart you can muster, and kiddo, no one will hear a goddamn thing. It’ll just sound like you’re letting out a deep sigh.”

The superintendent placed his elbows firmly on the table and cradled his head in both hands, offering a genuine look of sympathy. “I’m not trying to scare you…I mean, no one likes the thought of having their arsehole ripped to the size of an exhaust pipe. I’m simply trying to let you know what you’re in for if you don’t start playing ball and, even though ‘what will be, will be’, I’d rather not see a young lad like you go down that road…Capisce?”

Perone’s robust description even had Angelo clenching his buttocks, but the young Magi associate said nothing. No words, no movement, no eye contact…nothing. He just continued to stare downwards as he had been trained to do.

This was one tough kid!’


Drawn into the shadowy embrace of the Magi, the lawman must draw on every ounce of his experience just to keep his head above water. He’ll need to use every trick in the book just to survive the next twenty four hours as the unfolding events attempt to not just consume him… but bury him.


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