Read Online River of Shadows: A Commissario Soneri Mystery (Commissario Soneri 1) by Valerio Varesi - Free Book Online

old man said, a bit irritated by the question. “Do you expect a man to change his vices at eighty?”
    “Many men opt for a quiet life at that age.”
    “Not Tonna. He never entertained the notion of leaving his barge and digging a garden. And anyway, he always wanted to stay away from people and their empty chatter.”
    “Any unfinished business?”
    Barigazzi made a vague gesture. “He liked his own company …” he said in a tone which seemed to the commissario intended to convey some deeper meaning.
    “Even when he was sailing?”
    “Sometimes he took his nephew along, but he didn’t manage to make a riverman of him. The young nowadays like their comforts, and the river makes its demands.”
    Soneri thought of Tonna and his solitary life, dedicated to commuting endlessly between Pavia and the mouth of the river, his two termini. A riverman who had no liking for company or for dry land. So caught up was he in these thoughts, he failed to notice that it had stopped raining.
    Barigazzi lifted his head as a sign of gratitude. “Don Firmino got it right for once. San Donino has bestowed his grace on us,” he sniggered.
    At that very moment, the lamp over the boat club, three metres above the roof, was switched on. The water, in gently rippling waves, continued to rise over the yard and was now scarcely two metres from the entrance.
    “You arrive when everyone else is getting out,” Barigazzi said.
    “It’s my job.”
    The man gave a slight nod to show he understood. “Anyway, there is no danger. Every so often the river comes along to take back what is his, and we let him get on with it. He doesn’t keep it long. The Po always restores everything.”
    “Including the dead?”
    Barigazzi looked him over attentively. “Even the dead,” he agreed. “If you are referring to what I think you are, you can be sure he’ll turn up. But are you really sure the Po has taken him?”
    The commissario thought it over for a while before replying. “No,” he said with resignation, telling himself that the investigation was still to get under way. “Can I offer you a drink?” he proposed to the old man.
    “I’d be very grateful, in a little while,” Barigazzi said. “First we have to shift the radio. We’ll take it to the Town Hall. That way the mayor will be able to listen for himself.”
    “Where’s the best place for a drink?”
    “Depends on your tastes,” the old man said. “I prefer
Il Sordo
, run by the deaf barman, under the colonnades, but they’ve got good wine in the
Italia,
where you’ll have been already.”
    Soneri was astonished that the man knew where he had left his car, but then he remembered that from the embankment it was easy to see down to the road in front of the bar.
    It was growing dark as he went down towards the town. He was aware of a level of feverish agitation among the houses and he understood why when he noticed a group of peoplegathered around a carabiniere patrol car parked nearby. The maresciallo was issuing evacuation orders, but the people were unwilling to move. As he passed by, the commissario caught sight of the officer’s face, with beads of sweat caused by the excitement mingling with drops of rain. Only a few families loading goods on to the van were paying him any heed. The others seemed on the point of mutiny. On the piazza, on the other hand, everything was quiet, as though the river were receding. A yellow sign concealed behind a large chestnut tree whose last leaves were hanging listlessly on the branches pointed to the
Portici
bar. Inside there were a few tables and several video games occupied by some young people.
    “You must be Tonna’s niece,” Soneri said to the woman behind the bar.
    A woman of around forty, not especially well preserved, looked at him with obvious distrust. “Yes,” she said, in a forced, vaguely threatening tone.
    “I am Commissario Soneri, from the police.”
    The woman grew even more rigid. She put down the glass she was