Acqua Alta

‘If their intention had been to kill him, they would have done that first, then warned you to keep quiet or the same thing would happen to you. But they didn’t do that; they went to you first. And if that had worked, then Semenzato would never have known, at least not officially, about the substitution.’

‘You’re still assuming that he was part of this,’ Brett said. When Brunetti nodded his agreement, she added, ‘I think that’s a big assumption.’

‘It doesn’t make sense any other way,’ Brunetti explained. ‘How else would they have known to come to you, known about the appointment?’

‘And if I had still told him, even after they did this to me?’ He was surprised that she wouldn’t have seen this and was reluctant to explain it to her now. He didn’t answer.

‘Well?’ she insisted.

‘If Semenzato was a part of this, it’s pretty clear what would have happened if you spoke to him,’ Brunetti said, still reluctant to be the one to give it voice.

‘I still don’t understand.’

‘They would have killed you, not him,’ he said simply.

He watched her face as he spoke, saw it reach her eyes, first as shock and disbelief. After a moment, she understood, and her expression stiffened, her lips compressing and drawing her mouth tight.

Luckily, Flavia chose that time to come into the living room, bringing with her the flowery scent of soap or shampoo or one of those things women use to make themselves smell wonderful at the wrong time of the day. Why the morning and not the night?

She was wearing a simple brown woollen dress tied by a bright orange scarf wrapped around her waist a few times and knotted at her side, its end hanging below her knees and swinging as she walked. She wore no make-up and, seeing her without it, Brunetti wondered why she ever bothered with it.

‘Buon giorno,’ she said, smiling and offering him her hand,

He stood to take it. Glancing at Brett, she included her in her next remark. ‘I’m going to make coffee. Would either of you like some?’ Then with a smile, ‘A bit early for champagne.’

Brunetti nodded but Brett shook her head. Flavia turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Her arrival and departure had, however momentarily, deflected his last remark, but now they had no choice but to return to it.

‘Why did they kill him?’ Brett asked.

‘I don’t know. An argument with the other people involved with him? A disagreement about what to do, perhaps what to do about you?’

‘Are you sure he was killed because of all of this?’

‘I think it’s best to work on that assumption,’ he answered blandly, not surprised at her reluctance to see it this way. To do so, obviously, would be to admit her own peril: with Matsuko and Semenzato both dead, she was the only one who knew about the theft. Whoever had killed Semenzato could have no idea that she had brought proof, as well as suspicions, back from China with her, and so they would have to believe that his death would effectively end the trail. If the fraud should ever be detected sometime in the future, it was not likely that the government of the People’s Republic of China could be moved to interest itself in the murderous greed of Western capitalists; it would probably search for the thieves nearer to home.

‘While they were still in China, who was in charge of the pieces selected for the show?’

‘We dealt with a man from the Beijing Museum, Xu Lin. He’s one of their leading archaeologists and a very good art historian.’

‘Did he accompany the exhibits out of China?’

She shook her head. ‘No, his political past prevented that.’

‘Why?’

‘His grandfather was a landlord, so he was considered politically undesirable or, at least, suspect.’ She saw Brunetti’s open look of surprise and explained. ‘I know it sounds irrational.’ Then, after a pause, she added, ‘It is irrational, but that’s the way it is. He spent ten years during the Cultural Revolution herding pigs and spreading dung on cabbage fields. But as soon as the Revolution was over, he returned to the university, and since he was a brilliant student, he couldn’t be kept from winning the job in Beijing. But they wouldn’t let him leave the country. The only people who travelled with the exhibition were party hacks who wanted to go abroad to go shopping.’

‘And you.’

‘Yes, and me.’ After a moment, she added in a low voice, ‘And Matsuko.’

‘So you’re the one who will be held responsible for the theft?’

‘Of course, I’m responsible. They clearly aren’t going to accuse the party cadres who came along for the ride, not when they have a Westerner to take the blame for the whole thing.’

‘What do you think happened?’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing makes sense. Or I can’t believe what does make sense.’

‘Which is?’ He was interrupted by Flavia, who came back into the room carrying a tray. She walked past him, went to sit beside Brett on the sofa, and placed the tray on the table in front of them. On it were two cups of coffee. She handed one of the cups to Brunetti, took the other, and sat back in the sofa. ‘There are two sugars in it. I think that’s what you take.’

Ignoring this interruption, Brett continued. ‘One of the party cadres must have been approached by someone here.’ Though Flavia had missed the question that prompted this explanation, she made no attempt to disguise her response to the answer. She turned and stared at Brett in stony silence, then glared over at Brunetti and met his eyes. When neither of them said anything, Brett continued, ‘All right. All right. Or Matsuko. Maybe it was Matsuko.’