his lawyer, Awocato Giuliano Zambino. We’ve called you here to discuss the events of last night.’
There was a fifth chair, a bit to the left of the lawyer, but no one suggested Brunetti take it. He nodded to the two men.
‘Perhaps the Commissario could join us?’ suggested Dottor Mitri, motioning to the empty chair with his hand.
Patta nodded and Brunetti sat.
‘You know why you’re here, I suppose,’ Patta said.
‘I’d like to hear it stated clearly,’ Brunetti answered.
Patta waved to his lieutenant, who began. ‘Last night, at about midnight, I received a call from one of my men that the window of the travel agency in Campo Manin - the travel agency owned by Dottor Mitri,’ he added, with a small inclination of his head in his direction, ‘had again been destroyed by vandals. He told me that a suspect had been taken to the Questura and that the suspect was the wife of Commissario Brunetti.’
‘Is this true?’ Patta interrupted, speaking to Brunetti.
‘I have no idea what Officer Landi said to the lieutenant last night,’ was Brunetti’s calm response.
‘That’s not what I mean,’ Patta interrupted before the lieutenant could say anything. ‘Was it your wife?’
‘In the report which I read last night,’ Brunetti began, his voice still calm, ‘Officer Landi gave her name and address, and said she admitted breaking the window.’
‘What about the other time?’ Scarpa asked.
Brunetti didn’t bother to ask what other time he meant. ‘What about it?’
‘Was it your wife?’
‘You’ll have to ask my wife that, Lieutenant.’
‘I will,’ he said. ‘You can be sure I will.’
Dottor Mitri coughed once, hiding the sound behind a raised hand. ‘Perhaps I could interrupt here, Pippo,’ he said to Patta. The Vice-Questore, apparently honoured by the intimacy of address, nodded.
Mitri turned his attention to Brunetti. ‘Commissario, I think it would be helpful if we could come to an understanding about this matter.’ Brunetti turned towards him but said nothing. ‘The damages to the agency have been considerable: the first window cost me almost four million lire to replace, and I assume this time it will be the same. There is also the matter of lost business during the time the agency was closed while we waited for the glass to be replaced.’
He paused, as if waiting for Brunetti to say or ask something, but when he did not, Mitri continued. ‘Because no one was apprehended for the first crime, I assume my insurance company will pay for the original damages and perhaps even for some of the lost business. It will take a considerable time for this to be achieved, of course, but I’m certain we’ll reach a settlement. In fact, I’ve already spoken to my agent and he assures me this is the case.’
Brunetti watched him as he spoke, listened to the confidence in his voice. This was a man accustomed to the full attention of the people he dealt with; his assurance and sense of self radiated from him in waves that were almost tangible. The rest of him gave the same impression: razor-cut hair worn shorter than was then the fashion, a light tan, skin and nails that were taken care of by someone else. He had light-brown eyes, almost the colour of amber, and a voice so pleasing as to be almost seductive. Because he was seated, Brunetti wasn’t sure of his height, but he looked as if he’d be tall, with the long arms and legs of a runner.
During all this the lawyer sat silent, attentive, listening to his client, but he said nothing.
‘Do I have your attention, Commissario?’ Mitri asked, aware of Brunetti’s scrutiny and perhaps hot liking it.
‘Yes.’
‘The second case is, and will be, different. Since your wife has apparently admitted to breaking the window, it seems only just that she should pay for it. That’s why I asked to speak to you.’
‘Yes?’ Brunetti
There was a fifth chair, a bit to the left of the lawyer, but no one suggested Brunetti take it. He nodded to the two men.
‘Perhaps the Commissario could join us?’ suggested Dottor Mitri, motioning to the empty chair with his hand.
Patta nodded and Brunetti sat.
‘You know why you’re here, I suppose,’ Patta said.
‘I’d like to hear it stated clearly,’ Brunetti answered.
Patta waved to his lieutenant, who began. ‘Last night, at about midnight, I received a call from one of my men that the window of the travel agency in Campo Manin - the travel agency owned by Dottor Mitri,’ he added, with a small inclination of his head in his direction, ‘had again been destroyed by vandals. He told me that a suspect had been taken to the Questura and that the suspect was the wife of Commissario Brunetti.’
‘Is this true?’ Patta interrupted, speaking to Brunetti.
‘I have no idea what Officer Landi said to the lieutenant last night,’ was Brunetti’s calm response.
‘That’s not what I mean,’ Patta interrupted before the lieutenant could say anything. ‘Was it your wife?’
‘In the report which I read last night,’ Brunetti began, his voice still calm, ‘Officer Landi gave her name and address, and said she admitted breaking the window.’
‘What about the other time?’ Scarpa asked.
Brunetti didn’t bother to ask what other time he meant. ‘What about it?’
‘Was it your wife?’
‘You’ll have to ask my wife that, Lieutenant.’
‘I will,’ he said. ‘You can be sure I will.’
Dottor Mitri coughed once, hiding the sound behind a raised hand. ‘Perhaps I could interrupt here, Pippo,’ he said to Patta. The Vice-Questore, apparently honoured by the intimacy of address, nodded.
Mitri turned his attention to Brunetti. ‘Commissario, I think it would be helpful if we could come to an understanding about this matter.’ Brunetti turned towards him but said nothing. ‘The damages to the agency have been considerable: the first window cost me almost four million lire to replace, and I assume this time it will be the same. There is also the matter of lost business during the time the agency was closed while we waited for the glass to be replaced.’
He paused, as if waiting for Brunetti to say or ask something, but when he did not, Mitri continued. ‘Because no one was apprehended for the first crime, I assume my insurance company will pay for the original damages and perhaps even for some of the lost business. It will take a considerable time for this to be achieved, of course, but I’m certain we’ll reach a settlement. In fact, I’ve already spoken to my agent and he assures me this is the case.’
Brunetti watched him as he spoke, listened to the confidence in his voice. This was a man accustomed to the full attention of the people he dealt with; his assurance and sense of self radiated from him in waves that were almost tangible. The rest of him gave the same impression: razor-cut hair worn shorter than was then the fashion, a light tan, skin and nails that were taken care of by someone else. He had light-brown eyes, almost the colour of amber, and a voice so pleasing as to be almost seductive. Because he was seated, Brunetti wasn’t sure of his height, but he looked as if he’d be tall, with the long arms and legs of a runner.
During all this the lawyer sat silent, attentive, listening to his client, but he said nothing.
‘Do I have your attention, Commissario?’ Mitri asked, aware of Brunetti’s scrutiny and perhaps hot liking it.
‘Yes.’
‘The second case is, and will be, different. Since your wife has apparently admitted to breaking the window, it seems only just that she should pay for it. That’s why I asked to speak to you.’
‘Yes?’ Brunetti
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