telling them of the impending demise of his captain.
Phones are suddenly hung up and the chatter of the office vaporises. Valentina has emerged from Caesario’s office at the end of the corridor.
Dead woman walking.
The only noise that can be heard is her feet on the floor.
From ten metres away her eyes lock in on Assante and she can see he’s struggling to even acknowledge that she’s there.
She reaches his desk, calmly folds her arms and looks down at him. ‘Make sure you put all your files, memory sticks, actions and contacts on my desk within the next hour.’
‘ Scusi? ’ He swivels in his chair, looking around the room to show his audience his disbelief.
‘Stand when you’re addressing a senior officer.’
He hesitates.
Valentina leans across him and picks the phone up off his desk. ‘You want me to call Caesario and have him make you stand?’
They both have the attention of the entire office. A distant phone rings, someone picks it up and immediately disconnects the caller. No one is going to miss this.
Assante slowly gets to his feet and stretches like it’s something he was going to do anyway.
She waits for him to finish.
‘You’re off the case.’
Across the room there are gasps.
‘Get all your stuff together – logs, records, contacts, electronic files; anything that has relevance to what I’m working.’
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘I only joke with friends, Lieutenant, and you’ve made it very clear that’s not what you are.’
‘I don’t understand.’
She laughs. ‘Oh, but you do. You thought that by undermining me you’d win favour with Caesario and further your career. You gambled and you lost.’ She shrugs like it’s of no concern. ‘I guess you played dirty because the stakes were high. So in your case, the price you pay is being dumped from this investigation by the female officer you sought to embarrass. Life is rough. Then again, if you were a woman in the Carabinieri, you’d already know that.’
Applause breaks out from behind her. Valentina turns to see several women standing and clapping,
She swivels back to Assante. ‘We’re done. I’m going out now and will contact you later with the name of the officer I want you to hand over to.’
Valentina walks the rest of the room to the corridor amid a cacophony of wolf whistles and thunderous applause.
46
The video recordings make fascinating viewing.
Hospital administrator Sylvio Valducci still isn’t convinced they prove the existence of dissociative identity disorder, but they’re certainly jaw-dropping enough to attract some substantial new grants. The bit where the patient seeks shelter under Verdetti’s desk is priceless. Pure theatre.
Who knows, they could even be good enough to land some plum keynote speeches at top medical conferences around the globe.
For him, of course, not Verdetti.
The clinician remains a thorn in his side. He quite hoped she’d make a terrible mess of this case, then he’d have an excuse to discipline her.
But it’s not working out like that.
Even the way she acted with the police doesn’t warrant an official warning. At best she was being public- minded. At worst she was slow in notifying him of an instant demand of the Carabinieri. She’d have walked any disciplinary hearing on that one.
Such a shame.
He’d certainly have liked to take the wind out of her ambitious young sails and make his own life easier. The last thing any under-pressure administrator wants is a mouthy clinical director who is trying to do more and as a result spend more every damned year.
Valducci puts the recordings back in their covers and stores them on his shelves.
The distance from his office to Verdetti’s amounts to a lift ride and a short walk down a couple of corridors. He’s making it to flatter her. To throw her off-guard. He learned long ago that it’s politically smart to seize an opportunity to be nice to those you like the least. It allows you to manipulate them towards your own ends, especially when they’re tired and stressed.
The eyes of a young nurse at the ward station almost pop out when he rounds the corner. In her fluster she stands up and knocks a plastic cup of water over her paperwork.
‘Wipe it! Wipe it!’ he barks. ‘And don’t let it get near the damned computer.’
Eva Boscono quickly mops with tissues, while he leans on the top of the reception station and makes no effort to help her.
‘I’m sorry, sir.’ She tosses the last of the Kleenex into the waste basket beneath the desk and rubs her wet hands together. ‘How can I help you?’
‘I’m looking for Dr Verdetti. I just walked past her office and it’s in darkness.’
‘She left about an hour ago, sir.’ She glances down at a calendar on the desk top. ‘She’s at a funeral. I believe she will be back late this afternoon.’
He grimaces. She never mentioned the funeral to him. Not that he doubts she’s properly booked the time – though he’ll check, of course. ‘Never mind. Tell her I came round. Get her to call my secretary and arrange to see me.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He starts to walk away and then has an idea. ‘The patient in room 116, how is she at the moment?’
Eva scrabbles through a tray of damp paperwork. ‘I’ll just find her notes for you to see.’
‘I don’t want to see her notes,’ he snaps. ‘Just tell me how she is. Surely you know enough about those in your care to have an instant overview?’
Eva reddens. ‘I’m told she slept well. This morning when I saw her she was subdued but not sedated. She complained of a headache about three hours ago and was given ibuprofen. An hour ago she was fine and was sitting out of bed, reading and drawing.’
‘Drawing? Drawing what?’
The question throws her. ‘I don’t know. She likes to doodle; it seems to calm her.’
‘She had a pen?’
‘No. She has crayons to draw with, but there’s nothing sharp in her room when she’s alone. We’re careful about self-harming.’
‘Good. Take me to see her.’
‘Now, sir?’
He looks exasperated. ‘When else? You want me to make an appointment and come back at a time that better suits you?’
‘No, sir.’ She scurries from behind her desk. ‘Please follow me.’
The Carabinieri guard outside the door takes their names and then allows them in.
Nurse Boscono closes the door and introduces her boss to Suzanna. ‘This is Signor Valducci. He is the administrator, the man in charge of the whole hospital.’
He smiles at Suzanna, and then turns to the nurse. ‘You can leave us now. I’d like to be alone with the patient.’
