‘Can he get hard proof?’
‘Yes. He knows someone who has access to Migliau’s office. He wants to see you tonight -he may have something for you then.’
‘You said he disagreed with the police theory about a kidnapping. What’s his explanation for the disappearance?’
‘Just that the kidnapping theory doesn’t hold water. No one on the right would dare lay a finger on Migliau. Nor, to be honest, would they want to. The same goes for the Mafia. That leaves the left. Siniscalchi has more contacts than the police with left-wing factions and terrorist groups - or so he told me - and he swears that Migliau’s disappearance is as much a mystery to them as to anybody else.’
‘What does that leave?’
‘It leaves the possibility that Migliau has dropped out of circulation from choice. For reasons known only to Migliau and whomever Migliau confides in. He thinks it could tie in with our problem, though he doesn’t know how.’
Patrick paused.
‘How much have you told him?’
‘I . . .’
At that moment, the door opened and Dr Luciani came into the room. He smiled and introduced himself to Makonnen.
‘I wonder if you would mind waiting outside,
Mr Makonnen. I’d like to have a word with your friend.’
When Assefa had gone, the doctor sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Patrick.
Well, Signor Canavan, how do you feel?’
‘Much better, thank you. Completely well, in fact. If you don’t mind, I’d like to leave as soon as possible.’
A frown creased Luciani’s high forehead.
‘Actually, Signor Canavan, I do mind. You may feel well, but I would like you to stay here for at least another twenty-four hours.’
“What for?’
‘Just observation. There are a few more tests I would like to run. In a few days’ time, I would like you to have a CT scan. We don’t have the equipment here, but the hospital in Mestre has had a scanner installed recently, and I think I can have you booked in there for an appointment later this week.’
Patrick felt a stab of alarm.
‘Is that necessary? Is something wrong?’
The doctor shook his head vigorously.
‘No, no. I have no reason to think so.’
‘Then...’
Luciani interrupted.
‘Signor Canavan, have you been experiencing ... any auditory or visual disturbances recently?’
‘I don’t understand. Disturbances?’
‘Perhaps hallucinations would be a better word. Allucinazioni. Any of the senses could be affected. You might taste or smell something that was not there. A food or a perfume, flowers perhaps. Or it might be a sound - music, a voice ...’
Patrick looked away. He heard water lapping, smelt a woman’s body, warm and close.
‘No,’ he lied. ‘Nothing like that.’
‘You are sure? Think very hard.’
‘Yes, I’m sure. Why do you ask?’
The doctor hesitated.
‘On the basis of what happened to you and the test results I have had back, I think you may be suffering from a form of focal epilepsy. Please, don’t be alarmed. It need not be serious. And there are other possible diagnoses. I only want you to help me.’
‘But it may be serious. That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it?’
Luciani did not reply at once.
‘Signor Canavan, I have no wish to alarm you. Diagnosis in such matters can be extremely difficult: that is why I would like you to undergo further tests. And even if a firm diagnosis is made, establishing the aetiology - the cause - will be far from simple.
‘The most common cause of focal epilepsy is a lesion of the temporal lobe of the brain. That is why I want you to have the EEG and, if possible, the CT scan. If there is a lesion, it will normally give rise to hallucinations of some kind. The lesion may be minor or, at your age, it may be a tumour. I say that, not to frighten you, but to convey some notion of the potential seriousness of your condition, and, therefore, of the need for your co-operation. Tell me, have you had episodes like this before?’
Patrick hesitated.
‘No. Not exactly ... There have been dreams. Dei sogni.’
What sort of dreams?’
Patrick attempted to explain. When he finished, Luciani nodded.
‘Very well. I would like to speak about your case with one of my colleagues here. He is a specialist in neurological disorders. I think he may be able to see you some time this evening. I must emphasize that you take what I am telling you very seriously. I realize
that you are perhaps in ... some kind of trouble. That is not my business. But your well-being is.
‘If you have had episodes such as the ones you have described, it is likely that the lesion is quite far advanced. You may have to undergo surgery. Whatever matters are troubling you right now, I would ask you to do your best to put them out of your mind. This must take priority. Otherwise, the consequences could be serious. Do you understand?’
Patrick nodded. He felt numb. There was no pain, only shadowy visions. How could shadows kill him? There must be some mistake.
‘I have to leave now, but I’ll be back this evening. I hope to bring my colleague with me. Please don’t worry. We have excellent facilities here and in Mestre. Even if we have to operate, there is nothing to be concerned about. There will be a nurse on hand at all times: let her know if you need anything, or if you experience any fresh symptoms.’
At the door, he paused.
‘Signor Canavan, I think I should tell you that there is a Carabinieri inspector downstairs. His name is Maglione, from the station at San Zaccaria. He has been waiting for permission to interview you.’ He glanced at the floor. ‘Do you have any idea why he wants to see you?’
‘No, I ... There must be some mistake. I’ve done nothing.’
‘Please don’t play games with me, signore. We found a gun in the pocket of your jacket. It has been placed in the hospital safe until we decide what to do with it. Now, I can ask this gentleman from the Carabinieri to leave; but if he insists on seeing you, I may not be able to stop him. As your doctor, I would prefer you not to be placed under any unnecessary stress at the moment. Frankly, I’m
worried in case it triggers another attack. But I cannot refuse a reasonable request from the police. So, you tell me: what shall I do?’
Patrick thought quickly.
‘Let him come up,’ he said. ‘I’ve got nothing to hide. But I’d like a little longer to speak with my friend, Mr Makonnen. It’s a private matter, and it is important to me. I promise you it has nothing to do with a criminal offence of any nature.’
Luciani took a while to make up his mind.
‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll tell Maglione he can see you in ten minutes. Will that be enough?’
‘Yes, I think so. Thank you.’
As he left, Luciani spoke briefly to Makonnen, who was still waiting outside.
‘Assefa, please close the door,’ said Patrick as he entered.
‘What is it, Patrick? Are you all right?’
‘Yes, of course. I’m fine. Listen, Assefa - we don’t have much time. There’s a policeman waiting for me
