explanations of Moro's behaviour, not even the dullest reader could
doubt the man's integrity.
The tone of innuendo became even stronger in some of the articles
dealing with Moro's sudden withdrawal from Parliament, a decision he
refused to attribute to anything other than 'personal reasons'. The
first article, written by one of the best-known apologists of the
Right, raised the rhetorical question of the sort of connection that
might exist between Moro's resignation and the arrest, two weeks
before, of one of the last members of the Baader-Meinhof Gang. 'None,
probably,' Brunetti found himself whispering again, as had become his
annoying habit when reading this particular adornment of the free
press.
The shooting of Moro's wife was mentioned in two small articles,
neither of which did more than report the barest facts of the case. The
second article, however, provided the name of the people with whom she
was staying at the time of the shooting.
He picked up the phone and dialled 12, then asked for the number of
Giovanni Ferro in Siena or in the province of Siena. There were two,
and he took down both numbers.
He dialled the first number and a woman answered.
'Signora Ferro?'
Who's calling, please?'
This is Commissario Guido Brunetti, in Venice/ he said.
He heard a startled gasp and then she asked, voice tight and fast and
apparently beyond her control, Is it Federica?'
Tederica Moro?' he asked.
The woman was evidently too shaken to do more than answer, 'Yes.'
'Signora, nothing's happened to her, please believe me. I'm calling to
ask about the incident two years ago.' She said nothing, but Brunetti
could hear her rapid breathing on the other end of the line. 'Signora,
can you hear me? Are you all right?'
There was another long silence, and he was afraid she was going to hang
up or already had, but then her voice came back, 'Who did you say you
were?'
'Commissario Guido Brunetti. I'm with the police in Venice, Signora.'
Again, silence. 'Signora, can you hear me?'
'Yes,' she said, The can hear you.' There was another long pause, and
then the woman said, 'I'll call you back', and was gone, leaving
Brunetti with the memory of her terror and the strong aspirants of her
Tuscan speech.
And indeed, thought Brunetti, as he replaced the receiver, why should
she believe that he was who he said he was? There was no way to prove
it, and the call was being made about a woman who had been shot and
whose assailant, presumably, had never been found by the police
Brunetti claimed to represent.
The phone rang after a few minutes. He picked it up on the first ring
and gave his name.
'Good/ she said. 'I wanted to be certain.'
That's very wise of you, Signora/ he said. The hope you're reassured
that I am who I said I was.'
'Yes/ she agreed, then went on, 'What do you want to know about
Federica?'
'I'm calling about the shooting because there's a case it might be
related to. The newspapers said that she was staying with you and your
husband when it happened.'
'Yes.'
'Could you tell me something more about it, Signora?'
Yet again there was a long pause, and then the woman asked, 'Have you
spoken to her?'
'Signora Moro?'
'Yes.'
'No, I haven't, not yet.' He waited for her to speak.
'I think you should talk to her Signora Ferro said.
There was something in the way she said the last word that warned
Brunetti not to dispute this. 'I'd very much like to be agreed
amiably. 'Could you tell me where I might find her?'
'Isn't she there?' the woman asked, the nervousness flooding back into
her voice.
He adopted his most soothing tone. 'You're the first person I've
