Read Online Suffer the Little Children by Donna Leon - Free Book Online Page A

what they were paid and regardless of what they did with the money. But when she measured her daughter’s life against the increased risk for some stranger, she had opted to accept that guilt. So she had taken her daughter to India with one badly functioning kidney and had brought her back to Italy with a healthy one.
    One of the things Brunetti had always secretly admired about some of the ancients – and he had to admit that it was one of the reasons he read them so relentlessly – was the apparent ease with which they made ethical decisions. Right and wrong; white and black. Ah, what easy times they seemed.
    But along came science to stick a rod between the spinning wheels of ethical decision while the rules tried to catch up with science and technology. Conception could be achieved any which way, the dead were no longer entirelydead, the living not necessarily fully alive, and maybe there did exist a place where hearts and livers were for sale.
    He wanted to express this in his answer to Vianello, but could find no way to compress or phrase it so that it made any sense. Instead, he turned to Vianello and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I don’t have any big answers, only small ideas.’
    â€˜What does that mean?’
    â€˜It means,’ he said, though the idea came to him only as he spoke, ‘that because we didn’t arrest him, maybe we can try to protect him.’
    â€˜I’m not sure I understand,’ said Vianello.
    â€˜I’m not sure I do, either, Lorenzo, but I think he’s a man who might need protection.’
    â€˜From Marvilli?’
    â€˜No, not from him. But from the sort of men Marvilli works for.’
    Vianello sat down in one of the chairs in Brunetti’s office. ‘Have you dealt with them before?’ he asked.
    Brunetti, still feeling the buzz of the caffeine and sugar and too restless to sit, leaned against his desk. ‘No, not with the men in Verona. I suppose I meant the type.’
    â€˜Men who’d give the babies to an orphanage?’ Vianello asked, unable to evade the hold that thought had taken on him.
    â€˜Yes,’ Brunetti agreed, ‘I suppose you could refer to them that way.’
    Vianello acknowledged this concept with a shake of his head. ‘How can we protect him?’
    â€˜The first way would be to find out if he has a lawyer and, if so, who that is,’ Brunetti answered.
    With a wry smile, Vianello said, ‘Sounds like you want to stack the deck against us.’
    â€˜If they’re going to charge him with the list Marvilli gave us, then he needs a good one.’
    â€˜Donatini?’ Vianello suggested, pronouncing the name as though it were a dirty word.
    Brunetti raised his hands in feigned horror. ‘No, I’d draw the line short of that. He’ll need someone as good as Donatini, but honest.’
    More because it was expected of him than because he fully meant it, Vianello repeated, ‘Honest? A lawyer?’
    â€˜There are some, you know,’ Brunetti said. ‘There’s Rosato, though I don’t know how much criminal work she does. And Barasciutti, and Leonardi . . .’ His voice wound down and stopped.
    Without feeling it necessary to mention that they had been working among criminal lawyers for close to half a century between them and had come up with the names of only three honest ones, Vianello said, ‘Instead of honest, we could settle for effective.’ They chose to overlook the fact that this would place Donatini’s name back at the top of the list.
    Brunetti glanced at his watch. ‘When I see his wife, I’ll ask her if she knows one.’ He pushed himself away from his desk, walked around behind it and sat down.
    He noticed some papers that had not beenthere when he left the previous day but barely glanced at them. ‘There’s one thing we have to find out,’ he said.
    â€˜Who authorized it?’ Vianello