like the phone very much’
'When?' she asked in
sudden concession.
‘I saw that your
address is in Santa Croce. I've got to be over there this morning' - he didn't,
but it was close to the traghetto at San Marcuola and so he could
quickly get to San Leonardo and lunch with the Count - 'so it would be very easy
for me to stop by. If that’s convenient with you, of course.'
'Let me look at my
schedule’ she said, putting the phone down again.
She had been
seventeen when the kidnapping happened, so she was not even twenty now, and
with what sounded like a very young baby. Schedule?
'If you came at
quarter to twelve, we could talk. But I've got an engagement for lunch.'
'That’s perfect for
me, Signora. I'll see you then’ he said quickly and hung up before she could
change her mind or check her schedule again.
He called Paola and
told her that he couldn't come home for lunch. As usual, she accepted this with
such equanimity that Brunetti wondered for an instant if she had already made
other plans. 'What will you do?' he asked.
'Humm?' she asked.
'Oh, read.'
'And the children?
What about them?'
'I’ll feed them,
Guido, don't worry. You know how they wolf their food down if the two of us
aren't there to exert a civilizing influence on them, so I'll have plenty of
time to myself’
'Will you eat, too?'
he asked.
'Guido, you're
obsessed with food. You do know that, don't you?'
'Only because of the
frequency with which you remind me of it, my treasure’ he said with a laugh. He
thought of telling her she was obsessed with reading, but Paola would just take
that as a compliment, so he told her he'd be home for supper and hung up.
He left the Questura
without bothering to tell anyone where he was going and was careful to take the
back steps and so avoid Vice-Questore Patta, who, given the fact that it was
after eleven, might safely be assumed to be in his office.
Outside, Brunetti,
who was wearing both a woollen suit and a light coat in response to the early
morning chill, was surprised at how warm it had become. He started along the
embankment and was just turning left into the trail of streets that would take
him out to Campo Santa Maria Formosa and, from there, to the Rialto, when he
suddenly stopped and took off his coat. He turned and went back towards the
Questura. When he got to the building the guards inside recognized him and
pressed the switch that opened the large glass doors. He went into the small
office on the right and saw Pucetti at the desk, talking on the phone. Seeing
his superior, Pucetti said something and hung up, then quickly got to his feet.
’Pucetti’ Brunetti
said, making a pushing gesture with one hand to force the young man to sit down
again. ‘I’d like to leave this here for a few hours. I'll pick it up when I get
back.'
Pucetti, instead of
resuming his seat, came forward and took the coat from his hands. I’ll put it
up in your office, if I might, Dottore.'
'No, it’s fine here.
Don't bother.'
‘I’d rather, sir.
We've had a number of things disappear down here during the last few weeks.'
'What?' Brunetti
asked with real surprise. ‘From the guard room of the Questura?'
'It’s them, sir,'
Pucetti said, nodding in the direction of the interminable line that stretched
back from the door of the Ufficio Stranieri, on which it seemed like hundreds
of people waited to fill out the forms that would legalize their residence in
the city. 'We're getting a lot of Albanians and Slavs, and you know what
thieves they are.'
Had Pucetti said such
a thing to Paola, she would have been all over him in an instant, calling him a
bigot and a racist, and pointing out that all Albanians
and all Slavs, weren't anything. But as she wasn't there and as
Brunetti, in general, tended to agree with Pucetti's sentiments, he did nothing
more than thank the young man and leave the building.
7
As he was leaving
Campo Santa Maria Formosa, Brunetti suddenly remembered something he had
'When?' she asked in
sudden concession.
‘I saw that your
address is in Santa Croce. I've got to be over there this morning' - he didn't,
but it was close to the traghetto at San Marcuola and so he could
quickly get to San Leonardo and lunch with the Count - 'so it would be very easy
for me to stop by. If that’s convenient with you, of course.'
'Let me look at my
schedule’ she said, putting the phone down again.
She had been
seventeen when the kidnapping happened, so she was not even twenty now, and
with what sounded like a very young baby. Schedule?
'If you came at
quarter to twelve, we could talk. But I've got an engagement for lunch.'
'That’s perfect for
me, Signora. I'll see you then’ he said quickly and hung up before she could
change her mind or check her schedule again.
He called Paola and
told her that he couldn't come home for lunch. As usual, she accepted this with
such equanimity that Brunetti wondered for an instant if she had already made
other plans. 'What will you do?' he asked.
'Humm?' she asked.
'Oh, read.'
'And the children?
What about them?'
'I’ll feed them,
Guido, don't worry. You know how they wolf their food down if the two of us
aren't there to exert a civilizing influence on them, so I'll have plenty of
time to myself’
'Will you eat, too?'
he asked.
'Guido, you're
obsessed with food. You do know that, don't you?'
'Only because of the
frequency with which you remind me of it, my treasure’ he said with a laugh. He
thought of telling her she was obsessed with reading, but Paola would just take
that as a compliment, so he told her he'd be home for supper and hung up.
He left the Questura
without bothering to tell anyone where he was going and was careful to take the
back steps and so avoid Vice-Questore Patta, who, given the fact that it was
after eleven, might safely be assumed to be in his office.
Outside, Brunetti,
who was wearing both a woollen suit and a light coat in response to the early
morning chill, was surprised at how warm it had become. He started along the
embankment and was just turning left into the trail of streets that would take
him out to Campo Santa Maria Formosa and, from there, to the Rialto, when he
suddenly stopped and took off his coat. He turned and went back towards the
Questura. When he got to the building the guards inside recognized him and
pressed the switch that opened the large glass doors. He went into the small
office on the right and saw Pucetti at the desk, talking on the phone. Seeing
his superior, Pucetti said something and hung up, then quickly got to his feet.
’Pucetti’ Brunetti
said, making a pushing gesture with one hand to force the young man to sit down
again. ‘I’d like to leave this here for a few hours. I'll pick it up when I get
back.'
Pucetti, instead of
resuming his seat, came forward and took the coat from his hands. I’ll put it
up in your office, if I might, Dottore.'
'No, it’s fine here.
Don't bother.'
‘I’d rather, sir.
We've had a number of things disappear down here during the last few weeks.'
'What?' Brunetti
asked with real surprise. ‘From the guard room of the Questura?'
'It’s them, sir,'
Pucetti said, nodding in the direction of the interminable line that stretched
back from the door of the Ufficio Stranieri, on which it seemed like hundreds
of people waited to fill out the forms that would legalize their residence in
the city. 'We're getting a lot of Albanians and Slavs, and you know what
thieves they are.'
Had Pucetti said such
a thing to Paola, she would have been all over him in an instant, calling him a
bigot and a racist, and pointing out that all Albanians
and all Slavs, weren't anything. But as she wasn't there and as
Brunetti, in general, tended to agree with Pucetti's sentiments, he did nothing
more than thank the young man and leave the building.
7
As he was leaving
Campo Santa Maria Formosa, Brunetti suddenly remembered something he had
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