Halfway up the steps beside the Post Office I risk another look behind me; I have a clear view about sixty yards up Via Santa Maria la Nova. I can't see him, but then he could be obscured by the sudden crowd of Neapolitans taking their lunch break. I run to the top of the steps and scan the whole area. He's not there. This does not reassure me, however... Was I really being followed I wonder, or is paranoia the inevitable result of any contact with organised crime? Does any association at all with this world make you suspicious about any unusual event or detail?