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it.
    In this instance, she concluded, the person she was trying to put pressure on wasn’t just the wife but the forensic examiner too. She had a suspicion that at some point she might well need more information from Dr Hapadi about his Masonic brethren.
    â€œCan I ask something?” Bagnasco said as they grabbed a couple of tuna tramezzini at the bar round the corner. Without waiting for a reply, she continued, “Do you have any feedback for me?”
    â€œFeedback?” Kat said, surprised.
    â€œI know I’ve made some mistakes,” Bagnasco said. “I really want to improve, and I think continuous assessment is the way to do it. Plus I’m really pleased that I’m being mentored by a woman. I’m very ambitious, and I think the prosecutor’s right: I could learn a lot from you as a role model – how to get ahead in the Carabinieri as a female officer, I mean.”
    Kat waved the suggestion away. “You’re doing fine. Don’t worry about it.” She never knew what to say when peopledescribed themselves as ambitious. You got promoted because you were good, not because you announced to everyone that you wanted it.
    â€œBut on a score of one to five?” Bagnasco persisted. “It’s good to have a number. That way I’ll be able to keep track of whether I’m improving or not.”
    Kat sighed. “Look, let’s get one thing clear. You work for me, not the other way round, and the job we’re both trying to do involves finding out who stabbed a man through the heart, cut his throat open and ripped out his tongue. If you’re doing something wrong, I’ll tell you. But I haven’t got the time or the energy to review your performance on a day-by-day basis. And the fact that we’re both women is pretty irrelevant to me, frankly.” Although a male assistant, she thought wistfully, would surely have been a lot less needy than Bagnasco was proving to be. Or did all the younger officers spout management-speak like this? The idea made her feel old and cynical.
    She thought back to something Hapadi had said earlier. “Don’t be too hard on her,” he’d said quietly, when Bagnasco was out of earshot. “She wouldn’t be the first officer to vomit at a crime scene.” And he’d given her a pointed look. Somehow, she realised, he must know about the time when she herself had done exactly that. It had been an equally gruesome murder: a fisherman, killed and tipped into a concrete holding tank for his own crabs to feast on. On that occasion, Aldo Piola had sluiced the vomit away before the forensic examiner got there. He must have mentioned it to Hapadi later.
    Even Flavio had said something similar about Bagnasco, just as Kat was leaving his office. “Go easy on her, won’t you?” he suggested. “It’ll be tough on her, being your number two.”
    â€œWhy? Am I such a monster?” she’d demanded. He’d only laughed.
    She glanced at the second lieutenant, who was now looking somewhat crestfallen. “Look, I didn’t mean to sound harsh. But I’ve made far too many mistakes to be a role model for anyone. The best advice I can give you is to concentrate on doing your job. Oh, and not to sleep with any senior officers.”
    â€œLike you did with Colonel Piola, you mean?”
    So people were still talking about that. “Like I did with Colonel Piola, yes.”
    â€œIs it true he left his wife for you?” Bagnasco asked curiously. “And that you sent him back to her, because you weren’t interested any more?”
    Kat was fairly sure a male officer would never have asked such a personal question, but she swallowed her irritation and said mildly, “I believe the colonel and his wife have separated and are currently going through a divorce. It’s not something he and I ever discuss. These days we keep our relationship strictly