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"So he's really dead..." Vittore asked me as he scrolled over the pictures I'd shown him of Matteo's last moments.

"Dead as a doornail. If it makes you feel better, he cried and begged," I said as he passed over the phone to me.

We'd both taken showers and had on clothes from the motel's lost and found. We'd thrown out and brunt the others along with anything that had Vittore's blood on it