Read Online By Its Cover by Donna Leon - Free Book Online

that were vandalized were once hers, or if they were part of the original collection, but she gave them one of the books that were stolen, and one that was vandalized. It’s hardly news that would please a major donor.’
    ‘Ah,’ she said in a tone meant to display little interest in the matter.
    He pulled out his notebook and opened it to the page where he had written the names Dottoressa Fabbiani had given him. ‘There’s an edition of Ramusio and a Montalboddo,’ he said, quite proud of the ease with which he named them.
    She murmured something appreciative, quite as if she were familiar with them.
    ‘Do you know the books?’ he asked.
    ‘I’ve heard their names,’ she answered. ‘My father’s always been interested in rare books. He owns a few.’
    ‘Does he buy them?’ Brunetti asked.
    She turned to him and laughed outright, banishing whatever tension had been in the room. ‘You sound as though you think he might be stealing them. I assure you he’s been nowhere near the Merula for months.’
    Brunetti smiled, in relief that her good humour had returned after her strange response to the Contessa’s name. ‘Do you know much about rare books?’
    ‘No, not really. He’s shown me some of them and explained what makes them special, but I’m a disappointment to him.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Oh, I think they’re beautiful enough – the paper, the bindings – but I can’t get excited about them.’ She sounded genuinely displeased with herself. ‘It’s collecting: I don’t understand it, or I don’t feel it.’ Before he could ask, she continued, ‘It’s not that I don’t like beautiful things: I justdon’t have the discipline for collecting in a systematic way, and I think that’s what real collectors do: they want one of everything in the classification they’re interested in, whether it’s German postage stamps with flowers on them or Coca-Cola bottle caps or … or whatever it is they’ve decided to collect.’
    ‘And if you don’t feel the enthusiasm …’ he began.
    ‘Then there’s no way you’ll ever feel their excitement,’ she said. ‘Or even really understand it.’
    Her mood had softened somehow and so he asked, ‘And the Contessa?’
    Signorina Elettra’s look was suddenly austere. ‘What about her?’ she asked.
    He danced about mentally, searching for a task that would justify his having brought the Contessa back into the conversation. ‘I’d like you to see what you can find out about the gift she made to the library: it was about ten years ago. Anything you can find about the terms and conditions of the donation might help,’ he added, thinking of Patta’s suggestion that the Contessa might ask for the return of the books.
    Her head was lowered over the notebook as she wrote down his request. ‘I’d also like you to see if there’s anything you can find about Aldo Franchini, who lives down towards the bottom of Via Garibaldi and taught in a private school in Vicenza until about three years ago. He has a younger brother who was at school with the Director of the library, who’s probably in her late fifties. So he’s certainly not a young man.’
    ‘Anything else?’
    ‘You might check on his involvement with the Church.’
    She looked up at him and smiled. ‘We live in Italy, Commissario.’
    ‘Which means?’

    ‘That, like it or not, we are all involved with the Church.’
    ‘Indeed,’ was the first thing he could think of to say. ‘But even more so in this case: he used to be a priest.’
    ‘Ah.’
    ‘Indeed,’ he said and turned to leave.
    As he started to walk away, she asked, ‘What sort of thing are you looking for about this Aldo Franchini?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Brunetti confessed. ‘It seems that he was sitting in the same room for at least some of the time that the thefts were taking place.’ She raised her eyebrows at this. ‘For the last three years, he’s been reading the Fathers of the Church.’
    ‘How much time does he spend