ruck he saw some hair . . . Like as not she'd been buried completely but the ruck shifts every so often, you know what I mean.'
'I don't'
'I've got to get back there right away. Magistrate's waiting. I'll have to leave you.'
And he rang off
Three
No sooner had the Marshal replaced the receiver than the phone rang again)
'Guarnaccia? Maestrangelo.'
'Good morning, Captain.
'I have something for you about that missing Swiss girl.'
The Marshal listened without interrupting to say he already knew; he let the Captain finish and then only asked him:
'Are you going out there?'
I'm about to leave now with the Substitute Prosecutor, after which I can leave things in Niccolini's hands since I'm snowed under here. I take it you can handle the case from this end, get me some information on the girl, home address, friends and contacts in Florence and so on? Given that she lives in your quarter.'
'Of course.'
'Good. Then, if you haven't got too heavy a day, you might want to come with us, given that you're going to collaborate. Did you go out and see Niccolini yesterday?'
'Yes. Yes, I did.'
'He seems competent enough, though it bothers me somewhat that he's only been here for a year or so . . .'
So what did he expect from someone who's only been there once? There were times, when his captain's faith in him troubled the Marshal. It was true that once or twice in the past he'd made himself useful, but only when all that had been required was simple observation. He hadn't the brains or the training for anything beyond that. Besides which, Niccolini might welcome cooperation but not interference. Captain Maestrangelo was always scrupulously polite and correct but the Marshal guessed from his tone of voice that he was about to start putting pressure on him and when that happened the Marshal became as immovable as solid rock.
'To tell you the truth,' he began slowly, I've got an appointment in half an hour with Dr Biondini here at the Palatine Gallery . . . Some security headaches over this new exhibition. In fact, I wanted to have a word with you about it. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you for an extra man '
I'll send you somebody. No problem.'
'Unless we're hit by the first wave of 'flu in the meantime.'
'You'll have the men you need.'
'Even so, I can hardly break this appointment, time being so short.'
The last thing he wanted was to spend the morning in the company of a Substitute Prosecutor who would resent the presence of an NCO and address himself exclusively to the Captain, who would in turn insist on including his Marshal as he had done in the past. It was embarrassing. It made a man feel ridiculous. And now the Captain was annoyed. His tone became a shade more brusque.
'In that case perhaps you could find time to see Niccolini later this morning and organize things between you.'
This time it was an order.
'Yes, sir.'
Well, he was annoyed himself. It was one thing asking him to collaborate from this end, all very proper, but he knew from past experience that the Captain expected more of him than that. Where was the sense of it? Those people out there didn't like outsiders. If they wouldn't talk to Niccolini they surely wouldn't talk to him.
He was still annoyed when he came back from his appointment with Biondini and went through to his quarters to get a cup of coffee before leaving.
'Go and sit in the other room and I'll bring it to you.' His wife was washing the kitchen floor and the chairs were stacked upside down on the table so that there was no place for him.
He went into the living-room but instead of sitting down he walked about unhappily as if he were in somebody else's house and had no business . . . well, he wasn't going to interfere. Collaborate from this end was what he would do and no more.
'Here you are. Why don't you sit down for a minute?'
'I haven't time.' He took the cup and drank off the coffee in one go.
The truth was he would willingly have sat down for five minutes now he thought about
'I don't'
'I've got to get back there right away. Magistrate's waiting. I'll have to leave you.'
And he rang off
Three
No sooner had the Marshal replaced the receiver than the phone rang again)
'Guarnaccia? Maestrangelo.'
'Good morning, Captain.
'I have something for you about that missing Swiss girl.'
The Marshal listened without interrupting to say he already knew; he let the Captain finish and then only asked him:
'Are you going out there?'
I'm about to leave now with the Substitute Prosecutor, after which I can leave things in Niccolini's hands since I'm snowed under here. I take it you can handle the case from this end, get me some information on the girl, home address, friends and contacts in Florence and so on? Given that she lives in your quarter.'
'Of course.'
'Good. Then, if you haven't got too heavy a day, you might want to come with us, given that you're going to collaborate. Did you go out and see Niccolini yesterday?'
'Yes. Yes, I did.'
'He seems competent enough, though it bothers me somewhat that he's only been here for a year or so . . .'
So what did he expect from someone who's only been there once? There were times, when his captain's faith in him troubled the Marshal. It was true that once or twice in the past he'd made himself useful, but only when all that had been required was simple observation. He hadn't the brains or the training for anything beyond that. Besides which, Niccolini might welcome cooperation but not interference. Captain Maestrangelo was always scrupulously polite and correct but the Marshal guessed from his tone of voice that he was about to start putting pressure on him and when that happened the Marshal became as immovable as solid rock.
'To tell you the truth,' he began slowly, I've got an appointment in half an hour with Dr Biondini here at the Palatine Gallery . . . Some security headaches over this new exhibition. In fact, I wanted to have a word with you about it. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you for an extra man '
I'll send you somebody. No problem.'
'Unless we're hit by the first wave of 'flu in the meantime.'
'You'll have the men you need.'
'Even so, I can hardly break this appointment, time being so short.'
The last thing he wanted was to spend the morning in the company of a Substitute Prosecutor who would resent the presence of an NCO and address himself exclusively to the Captain, who would in turn insist on including his Marshal as he had done in the past. It was embarrassing. It made a man feel ridiculous. And now the Captain was annoyed. His tone became a shade more brusque.
'In that case perhaps you could find time to see Niccolini later this morning and organize things between you.'
This time it was an order.
'Yes, sir.'
Well, he was annoyed himself. It was one thing asking him to collaborate from this end, all very proper, but he knew from past experience that the Captain expected more of him than that. Where was the sense of it? Those people out there didn't like outsiders. If they wouldn't talk to Niccolini they surely wouldn't talk to him.
He was still annoyed when he came back from his appointment with Biondini and went through to his quarters to get a cup of coffee before leaving.
'Go and sit in the other room and I'll bring it to you.' His wife was washing the kitchen floor and the chairs were stacked upside down on the table so that there was no place for him.
He went into the living-room but instead of sitting down he walked about unhappily as if he were in somebody else's house and had no business . . . well, he wasn't going to interfere. Collaborate from this end was what he would do and no more.
'Here you are. Why don't you sit down for a minute?'
'I haven't time.' He took the cup and drank off the coffee in one go.
The truth was he would willingly have sat down for five minutes now he thought about
Similar Books
