to himself. ‘What about the wholesaler? Do you know anything about him?’
‘No, he’s new to us. Nothing on him at all. Even the finance people don’t have a file on him.’
‘What do you think, then?’
Carrara considered for a moment before he answered. ‘I’d say he was clean. And that probably means that someone will remove the statues before the shipment’s delivered.’
‘Where? How?’ Brunetti asked. And then he added, ‘Does anyone know you opened the crates?’
‘I don’t think so. We had the finance police close off the warehouse and make a big show of opening a shipment of lace that was coming in from the Philippines. While they were doing that, we took a look at the ashtrays, but we closed up the crates and left everything there.’
‘What about the lace?’
‘Oh, it was the usual stuff. Twice as much there as declared on the papers, so they confiscated the whole shipment, and they’re trying to figure out how much the fines should be.’
‘And the ashtrays?’
‘They’re still in the warehouse.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m not in charge of it, Guido. The Milan office gets to handle this. I spoke to the man in charge, and he said he wants to step in the minute the crates with the statues are picked up.’
‘And you?’
‘I’d let them pick up the shipment and then try to follow them.’
‘If they take the crates,’ Brunetti said.
‘Even if they don’t, we’ve got around-the-clock teams in the warehouse, so we’ll know when they make their move. Besides, whoever gets sent to pick up the statues won’t be important, and they probably won’t know much, except where to take them, so there’s no sense in stepping in and arresting them.’
Finally Brunetti asked, ‘Giulio, isn’t this an awfully complicated manoeuvre for four statues? And you still haven’t said how Semenzato was involved in any of this.’
‘We don’t have a clear idea of that, either, but the man who made the original phone call told us that the people — he meant police, Guido — in Venice might be interested in this.’ Even before Brunetti could interrupt him, Carrara went on, ‘He wouldn’t explain what that meant, but he did say that there were more shipments. This was only one of many.’
‘All coming from the Orient?’ Brunetti asked.
‘He didn’t say.’
‘Is there a big market here for things like this?’
‘Not here in Italy, but certainly in Germany, and it’s easy enough to get the things there once they’ve arrived in Italy.’
No Italian would bother to ask why the shipments were not made directly to Germany. The Germans, it was rumoured, saw the law as something to be obeyed, unlike the Italians, who saw it as something first to be fathomed and then evaded.
‘What about value, price?’ Brunetti asked, feeling very much the stereotypical Venetian as he did so.
‘Tremendous, not because of the beauty of the statues themselves but because of the fact that they come from Angkor Wat.’
‘Could they be sold on the open market?’ Brunetti asked, thinking of the room Signor La Capra had built on the third floor of his
Again, Carrara paused while he considered how to answer the question. ‘No, probably not. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a market for them.’
‘I understand.’ It was only a possibility, but he asked, ‘Giulio, do you have a file on a man named La Capra, Carmello La Capra? From Palermo.’ He explained the coincidence of the foreign trips taken to the same places and on the same days as Semenzato.
After a short pause, Carrara replied, ‘The name sounds faintly familiar, but nothing comes directly to mind. Give me an hour or so, and I’ll tap into the computer and see what we have on him.’
Brunetti’s question was prompted by the purest of professional curiosity. ‘How much have you got in your computer down there?’
‘Lots,’ Carrara responded with audible pride. ‘We’ve got listings by name, by city, by century, art form, artist, technique of reproduction. You name it, if it’s been stolen or faked, we’ve got a breakdown in the computer. He’d be listed under his name or any aliases or nicknames he has.’
‘Signor La Capra is not the sort of man who would permit a nickname,’ Brunetti explained.
‘Oh, one of them, huh? Well, we’d have him under “Palermo”, in any case,’ and then Carrara added, quite unnecessarily, ‘Rather full, that file.’ He paused a moment to allow Brunetti time to appreciate the remark and then asked, ‘Is there any special sort of art he’s interested in, any technique?’
‘Chinese ceramics,’ Brunetti supplied.
‘Ah,’ Carrara said on a long rising tone. ‘That’s where the name came from. I still can’t remember exactly what it was, but if the connection sticks in my mind, it’s in the computer. Can I call you back, Guido?’
‘I’d appreciate it, Giulio.’ Then, prompted by real curiosity, he asked, ‘Is there any chance you’ll be sent up to Verona?’
