this, she added, 'Not that Roberto couldn't be like that sometimes,
but Maurizio was just ... well, he always has to tell everyone what to do. Or that's how it seemed to
me.'
'Have you seen him
since Roberto disappeared?'
'Of course,' she
answered, surprised at the question. 'Just after it happened, he was there with
Roberto's parents. All the time, when the notes came. So I saw him’
‘I mean
after that, after the notes stopped’
'No, not to talk to,
if that’ s what you mean. I see him on the street sometimes, but we don't have
anything to say to one another’
'And Roberto's
parents?'
'No, not them, either’
Brunetti doubted if the parents of the kidnapped boy would remain in contact
with his former girlfriend, especially after her marriage to another man.
Brunetti had nothing
else to ask her, but he wanted her to remain open to the possibility of
answering more questions, should they arise. ‘I don't want to keep you from
your baby, Signora’ he said, glancing down at his watch.
'Oh, that’s all
right, I don't mind’ she answered, and Brunetti was surprised at how much he
believed her and at how much that fact made him dislike her.
He got to his feet
quickly. 'Thank you very much, Signora. I think that will be all for now.' 'For
now?'
'If it does turn out
to be Roberto's body, then the investigation will have to be reopened, Signora,
and I suspect that everyone who had any knowledge of the original kidnapping
will be questioned again.'
She pulled her lips
together in a tight grimace of irritation at how much all of this was intruding
on her time.
He went towards the
door so as not to give her the chance to complain. 'Again, thank you, Signora’
he said.
She got up from the
sofa and came towards him. Her face fell back into the curious immobility he
had noticed when he first met her, and the beauty she'd shown disappeared.
She saw him to the
door, and as she opened it, the baby wailed out from somewhere at the back of
the apartment. Ignoring it, she said, 'Would you let me know if it really is
Roberto?'
'Of course, Signora’
Brunetti answered. He started down the steps. The baby's cry was cut off by the
closing of the door.
8
Brunetti
glanced at his watch as he left the Salviati house. It was twenty to one. He
took the traghetto again, and when he came out at San Leonardo, he
crossed the campo and took the first left A few empty tables stood in
the shade in front of the restaurant.
Inside, a
counter stood to his left, a few demijohns of wine on a shelf in back of it,
long.rubber tubes flowing from their tops. To the right, two arched doors
opened into another room, and there, at a table against the wall, he saw his
father-in-law, Count Orazio Falier. The Count sat, a glass of what looked like
prosecco in front of him, reading the local paper, Il Gazzettino. Brunetti
was surprised to see him with such a newspaper, which meant either that his
opinion of the Count was higher than he realized, or of the local newspaper,
lower.
'Buon
di’ Brunetti
said as he approached the table.
The Count
peered over the top of his paper and got to his feet, leaving the pages spread
before him.
'Ciao, Guido’ the
Count said, extending his hand and clasping Brunetti's. ‘I’m glad you could
come’
‘I asked to
talk to you, remember’ Brunetti answered.
Reminded, the
Count said, 'The Lorenzonis, eh?'
Brunetti
pulled out the chair opposite the Count and sat He looked down at the paper,
and, although the body was still unidentified, he found himself wondering if
the story could somehow already be printed.
The Count interpreted
his glance. 'Not yet’ He took the time to fold the paper neatly in two, and
then in two again. ‘It’s become so bad, hasn't it?' he asked, holding the paper
up between them.
'Not if you
like cannibalism, incest, and infanticide’ Brunetti answered.
Did you read
it today?' When Brunetti shook his head, the Count explained. There was a story
this morning
but Maurizio was just ... well, he always has to tell everyone what to do. Or that's how it seemed to
me.'
'Have you seen him
since Roberto disappeared?'
'Of course,' she
answered, surprised at the question. 'Just after it happened, he was there with
Roberto's parents. All the time, when the notes came. So I saw him’
‘I mean
after that, after the notes stopped’
'No, not to talk to,
if that’ s what you mean. I see him on the street sometimes, but we don't have
anything to say to one another’
'And Roberto's
parents?'
'No, not them, either’
Brunetti doubted if the parents of the kidnapped boy would remain in contact
with his former girlfriend, especially after her marriage to another man.
Brunetti had nothing
else to ask her, but he wanted her to remain open to the possibility of
answering more questions, should they arise. ‘I don't want to keep you from
your baby, Signora’ he said, glancing down at his watch.
'Oh, that’s all
right, I don't mind’ she answered, and Brunetti was surprised at how much he
believed her and at how much that fact made him dislike her.
He got to his feet
quickly. 'Thank you very much, Signora. I think that will be all for now.' 'For
now?'
'If it does turn out
to be Roberto's body, then the investigation will have to be reopened, Signora,
and I suspect that everyone who had any knowledge of the original kidnapping
will be questioned again.'
She pulled her lips
together in a tight grimace of irritation at how much all of this was intruding
on her time.
He went towards the
door so as not to give her the chance to complain. 'Again, thank you, Signora’
he said.
She got up from the
sofa and came towards him. Her face fell back into the curious immobility he
had noticed when he first met her, and the beauty she'd shown disappeared.
She saw him to the
door, and as she opened it, the baby wailed out from somewhere at the back of
the apartment. Ignoring it, she said, 'Would you let me know if it really is
Roberto?'
'Of course, Signora’
Brunetti answered. He started down the steps. The baby's cry was cut off by the
closing of the door.
8
Brunetti
glanced at his watch as he left the Salviati house. It was twenty to one. He
took the traghetto again, and when he came out at San Leonardo, he
crossed the campo and took the first left A few empty tables stood in
the shade in front of the restaurant.
Inside, a
counter stood to his left, a few demijohns of wine on a shelf in back of it,
long.rubber tubes flowing from their tops. To the right, two arched doors
opened into another room, and there, at a table against the wall, he saw his
father-in-law, Count Orazio Falier. The Count sat, a glass of what looked like
prosecco in front of him, reading the local paper, Il Gazzettino. Brunetti
was surprised to see him with such a newspaper, which meant either that his
opinion of the Count was higher than he realized, or of the local newspaper,
lower.
'Buon
di’ Brunetti
said as he approached the table.
The Count
peered over the top of his paper and got to his feet, leaving the pages spread
before him.
'Ciao, Guido’ the
Count said, extending his hand and clasping Brunetti's. ‘I’m glad you could
come’
‘I asked to
talk to you, remember’ Brunetti answered.
Reminded, the
Count said, 'The Lorenzonis, eh?'
Brunetti
pulled out the chair opposite the Count and sat He looked down at the paper,
and, although the body was still unidentified, he found himself wondering if
the story could somehow already be printed.
The Count interpreted
his glance. 'Not yet’ He took the time to fold the paper neatly in two, and
then in two again. ‘It’s become so bad, hasn't it?' he asked, holding the paper
up between them.
'Not if you
like cannibalism, incest, and infanticide’ Brunetti answered.
Did you read
it today?' When Brunetti shook his head, the Count explained. There was a story
this morning
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