I Am God by Giorgio Faletti

once told Sundance, about an old Cherokee sitting watching the sunset with his grandson.
     
    ‘Grandfather, why do men fight?’
    The old man, his eyes turned to the setting sun as the day lost its battle with night, spoke in a calm voice.
    ‘Every man, sooner or later, is called to do so. For every man there’s always a battle waiting to be fought, to win or lose. Because the fiercest clash is the one between the two wolves.’
    ‘What wolves, grandfather?’
    ‘The wolves every man carries inside himself.’
    The boy didn’t understand. He waited for his grandfather to break the silence he had let fall between them, maybe to arouse his curiosity. Finally, the old man, who had the wisdom of time inside him, resumed in his calm tone, ‘There are two wolves in each of us. One is bad and lives a life of hate, jealousy, envy, rancour, false pride, lies, and selfishness.’
    The old man paused again, this time to allow him to absorb what he had just said.
    ‘And the other?’
    ‘The other is the good wolf. He lives a life of peace, love, hope, generosity, compassion, humility and faith.’
    The child thought for a moment about what his grandfather had just told him. Then he expressed what was especially on his mind.
    ‘And which wolf wins? ’
    The old Cherokee turned to look at him and replied, clear- eyed , ‘The one we feed more.’
     
    Vivien opened the door and got out of the car. As soon as she turned on her cellphone, it started ringing.
    She lifted it to her ear and instinctively replied as if she was sitting at her desk. ‘Detective Light.’
    ‘Bellew here. Where are you?’
    ‘Just outside. I’m coming in.’
    ‘I’ll go down. Let’s meet in the lobby.’
    Vivien climbed the steps, opened the glass-fronted door, and was inside the building.
    A black man with his hands cuffed behind his back stood in front of the desk, with a uniformed officer beside him holding him by one arm. One of the officers behind the desk was taking down the details of his arrest.
    As Vivien entered, she returned the officer’s wave. She turned right and found herself in a large room, painted anondescript colour, with rows of chairs in the middle and a whiteboard on the wall facing them. Another whiteboard stood on an easel next to a raised desk. This was the room where the officers on duty gathered for roll call, to be given the rundown on the current operations and assigned their tasks for the day.
    Captain Alan Bellew, her immediate superior, came in through another door facing the entrance. Seeing her, he came towards her with that rapid walk of his that gave an impression of physical vigour. He was a tall, highly capable man who loved his work and was good at it.
    He knew all about Vivien’s difficult love life. In spite of that, and her youth, her unquestionable qualities in the job had led him to hold her in high regard. A relationship of mutual respect had sprung up between them, and whenever they had worked together they’d always achieved excellent results. One of Vivien’s colleagues had once called her ‘the captain’s pet’, but when Bellew had found out about it he had taken the officer aside and given him a little talk. Nobody knew what he had said, but from that moment on all comments had ceased.
    Coming level with her, he did what he always did: he came straight to the point.
    ‘A call just came in. We have a homicide. The body’s apparently years old. They found it on a construction site during demolition. It was inside a wall between two basements.’ He paused, just long enough to give her time to focus on the situation. ‘I’d like you to handle it.’
    ‘Where is it?’
    Bellew made a vague gesture with his head. ‘Two blocks from here, on 23rd and Third. The crime scene team should be there by now. The ME’s on his way, too. I already sentBowman and Salinas to keep an eye on things until you get there.’
    ‘Isn’t this something for Cold Case?’
    Cold Case was the squad that dealt with