“We found him yesterday, but he’d been dead since Monday night.”
“How did he die?” “Shot.” “Where?” “In the face.”
She gave a start, trembling as though she felt suddenly cold.
“No, I meant where did it happen?”
“At his place. Do you know that room he had up on the terrace?”
“Yes, he showed it to me once.”
“Listen, ma’am, I have to ask you some questions.”
“Well, here I am.”
“Did your husband know?”
“About my affair with Angelo? Yes.”
“Was it you who told him?”
“Yes. I never kept anything from him.”
“Was he jealous?”
“Of course. But he could control himself. Anyway, Angelo wasn’t the first.”
“Where would the two of you meet?”
“At his place.”
“In the room on the terrace?”
“No, never. As I said, he showed it to me once. He told me he went up there to read and sunbathe.” “How often did you meet?”
“It varied. Normally, when one of us felt like it, we would call the other. Sometimes we went as long as four or five days without seeing each other, maybe because I was too busy or because he had to go out on his rounds of the province.”
“Were you ever jealous?”
“Of Angelo? No.”
“But Michela told me you were. And that lately the two of you had been quarreling a lot.”
“I don’t even know Michela. I’ve never met her. But Angelo used to tell me about her. I think she’s mistaken.”
“About what?”
“About our quarrels. Jealousy wasn’t the reason.”
“Then what was?”
“I wanted to leave him.”
“You did?!”
“Why are you so surprised? The feeling was fading, that’s all. And then …” “And then?”
“And then I realized Emilio was taking it too hard, even though he didn’t let it show. It was the first time he felt so bad.”
“Angelo didn’t want you to leave him?”
“No. I think he was starting to develop a feeling for me that he hadn’t counted on at the beginning. You know, in matters of women, Angelo was rather inexperienced.”
“Forgive my asking, but where were you Monday evening?”
She smiled.
“I was wondering when you would ask. I have no alibi.” “Can you tell me what you did? Did you stay home? See friends?”
“I went out. Angelo and I had planned to get together Monday evening at his place, around nine o’clock. But when I went out, almost unconsciously, I took a wrong turn. And I kept on going, forcing myself not to turn back. I wanted to see whether I could actually give Angelo up, as he was waiting to make love to me. I drove around aimlessly for two hours, then went back home.”
“Weren’t you puzzled that Angelo didn’t contact you the following morning and in the days that followed?”
“No. I thought he wasn’t calling me out of spite.”
“Didn’t you try to call him?”
“No, I would never have done that. It would have been a mistake. Maybe it really was all over between us. And I felt relieved at the thought of it.”
4
The telephone rang again.
“Excuse me,” said Elena, getting up.
But before leaving the room, she asked:
