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regret as she said this.
    â€˜And her family? You said you spoke to a niece, Signora.’
    â€˜Yes, and she didn’t want to have anything todo with her. There was a sister in Dolo, presumably the mother of the niece, but the last time I called, I got the niece, and she told me her mother had died.’ She considered all of this and added, ‘I got the feeling she didn’t want to hear anything about her aunt until she was dead, too, and she could inherit the house.’
    â€˜You said you spoke to a lawyer, didn’t you, Signora?’
    â€˜Yes, Dottoressa Marieschi. She has an office, at least it’s listed in the phone book, down in Castello somewhere. I’ve never met her, just spoken to her on the phone.’
    â€˜How did you locate all these people, Signora?’ he asked.
    Detecting only curiosity in his tone, she answered, ‘I asked around and I looked them up in the phone book.’
    â€˜How did you learn the name of the lawyer?’
    She considered this for a long time before saying, ‘I called her once, Signora Battestini, and I said I was from the electric company and had to talk to her about a bill that hadn’t been paid. She gave me the name of the lawyer and told me to call her, even gave me the number.’
    Brunetti gave her an admiring smile but stopped himself from praising her for what was no doubt a crime of some sort. ‘Do you know if this lawyer handles all of her affairs?’
    â€˜She made it sound like that when I spoke to her,’ she answered.
    â€˜Signora Battestini or the lawyer herself?’
    â€˜Oh, I’m sorry. Signora Battestini. The lawyerwas, well, she was the way lawyers always are: she gave very little information and made it sound as though she had very little control over her client.’
    That sounded as good a description of the ways of lawyers as Brunetti had ever heard. Instead of complimenting her on her sagacity, however, he asked, ‘In all you’ve learned, is there anything you think might be important?’
    Smiling, she said, ‘I’m afraid I have no idea of what might be important or not, Commissario. All the neighbours really said was that she was terrible, and if any of them mentioned the husband, it was to say he was an ordinary man, nothing special at all, and that they were not happy together.’ He waited for her to comment on the unlikelihood of anyone’s finding happiness with Signora Battestini, but she did not.
    â€˜I’m sorry I haven’t been very helpful,’ she said, signalling her desire to end the conversation.
    â€˜On the contrary, Signora, I’d say you’ve been immensely helpful. You’ve stopped us from closing a case before we had investigated it sufficiently, and you’ve given us good reason to suspect that our original conclusions were wrong.’ He left it to her to understand that he at least believed there was no need to corroborate her story before accepting it.
    He got to his feet and stepped back from his chair. He extended his hand, saying, ‘I’d like to thank you for coming to talk to us. Not many people would have done as much.’
    Taking this as an apology for Lieutenant Scarpa’s behaviour, she shook his hand, and left his office.

6
    AFTER THE WOMAN had gone, Brunetti went back to his desk, considering what he had just heard, not only from Signora Gismondi, but from Lieutenant Scarpa. What the first had told him seemed an entirely plausible story: people left the city and events continued in their absence. Often enough, people chose to have no contact with home, perhaps the better to savour the sense of being away or, as she had told Scarpa, to immerse themselves totally in a foreign language or culture. He tried to think of a reason why a woman as apparently sensible and honest as Signora Gismondi should invent such a story and hold to it in the face of what he was sure must have been Scarpa’s