else did.'
At the look of pleased satisfaction on Brunetti's face as he heard him
explain this, Pucetti began to suspect, not without a twinge of
embarrassment, that perhaps his superior had figured it out.
In the days that followed, Brunetti's thoughts were distracted from the
Moro family and its griefs and directed towards the Casino. The
police, this time, were not asked to investigate the frequent and
refined forms of peculation practised by guests and croupiers, but the
accusations brought against the casino's administration for having
enriched itself at public expense. Brunetti was one of the few
Venetians who bothered to remember that the Casino belonged to the
city; hence he realized that any theft or embezzlement of Casino
earnings came directly from the funds earmarked for the aid of orphans
and widows. That people who spent their lives among gamblers and
card-sharks should steal was no surprise to Brunetti: it was only their
boldness that occasionally astonished him, for it seemed that all of
the ancillary services offered by the Casino banquets, private parties,
even the bars had quietly been turned over to a company that turned out
to be run by the brother of the director.
Since detectives had to be brought in from other cities so as
not to be detected as they presented themselves at the Casino in the
role of gamblers, and employees had to be found who would be willing to
testify against their employers and colleagues, the investigation had
so far been a slow and complicated one. Brunetti found himself
involved in it at the expense of other cases, including that of Ernesto
Moro, where the evidence continued to pile up in support of a judgment
of suicide: the crime lab's report on the shower stall and the boy's
room contained nothing that could be used to justify suspicions about
his death, and none of the statements of students or teachers suggested
anything at variance with the view that it was suicide. Brunetti,
though unpersuaded by the absence of credible evidence in support of
his own view, recalled occasions in the past when his impatience had
proven harmful to investigations. Patience, then, patience and calm
would be his watchwords.
The magistrate appointed to the investigation of the Casino was on the
point of issuing warrants for the arrest of the entire directorate when
the mayor's office put out a statement announcing the transfer of the
director of the Casino to another position in the city administration,
as well as the promotion of his chief assistants to places high in
other city services. Further, the two leading witnesses found
themselves promoted to positions of importance within the reorganized
Casino, whereupon both began to realize that their previous
interpretation of events must have been mistaken. Their case in
rubble, the police backed away from the gorgeous palazzo on the Canal
Grande, and the visiting detectives were sent home.
These events resulted in a late-morning summons from Patta, who
chastised Brunetti for what he considered an overaggressive attitude
toward the Casino administration. Because Brunetti had at no time felt
more than mild disapproval of the behaviour of the suspects always
taking a broad-minded view of crimes against property Patta's
heated words fell upon him with no more effect than spring rainfall
upon sodden earth.
It was when his superior turned his attention to the Moro family that
he found himself attending to what Patta was saying. 'Lieutenant
Scarpa has told me that the boy was considered unstable, and so there's
no further need to drag our heels on this. I think it's time we closed
the case.'
'By whom, sir?' Brunetti inquired politely.
'What?'
'By whom? Who was it that thought he was unstable?' It was evident
from Patta's response that he had not thought it necessary to ask this
question: Scarpa's assertion would more than suffice by way of proof.
'His teachers, I imagine. People at the school. His friends. Whoever
the lieutenant talked to,' Patta shot off in a quick list. 'Why do you
ask?'
'Curiosity, sir. I didn't know the lieutenant was interested in the
case.'
'I didn't say he was interested Patta said, making no attempt to
disguise his disapproval at this latest evidence of Brunetti's
inability though Patta suspected it was his refusal to do what every
good policeman should do: realize when a suggestion was really an
order. He took a long breath. 'Whoever it was he talked to, they said
that the boy was clearly unstable, and so it's even more likely that it
was suicide.'
That's certainly what the autopsy indicated Brunetti affirmed mildly.
'Yes, I know.' Before Brunetti could ask, Patta went on, 'I haven't
had time to read it carefully, but the overview is certainly consistent
with suicide.'
There was no doubt in Brunetti's mind as to the author of this
overview; what was in doubt was why Lieutenant Scarpa should take an
interest in a case in which he was not involved.
