'Has he had anything else to say about this?' Brunetti asked, trying
his best to sound only mildly interested.
'No. Why?'
'Oh, merely that if the lieutenant is so convinced, then we can inform
the boy's parents that the investigation is closed.'
'You've already spoken to them, haven't you?'
'Some days ago, yes. But if you remember, sir, you asked me to be sure
that no doubt could be cast on our conclusions so the father would have
no reason to complain about our work, given that he's already created a
great deal of trouble for other agencies of the state.'
'You mean his report?' Patta asked.
'Yes, sir. I was of the understanding that you wanted to be certain he
would have no grounds to launch a similar investigation of our handling
of his son's death.' Brunetti paused a moment to assess the effect of
this, and when he saw the first signs of Patta's uneasiness, he drove
in another nail. 'He seems to be someone who has earned the trust of
the public, so any complaint he might make would probably be picked up
by the press.' He allowed himself a small, dismissive shrug. 'But if
Lieutenant Scarpa is satisfied that there's enough evidence to prove to
the parents that it was suicide, then there's certainly no reason for
me to continue working on it.' Slapping his hands on his thighs,
Brunetti pushed himself to his feet, eager to go off in pursuit of some
new project, now that the Moro case had so neatly been settled by his
colleague, Lieutenant Scarpa.
'Well,' Patta said, drawing the word out, 'perhaps it's hasty to think
that things are as conclusive as Lieutenant Scarpa would like to
believe
'I'm not sure I understand you, sir,' Brunetti lied, unwilling to let
Patta off so easily and wondering to what lengths he would go to
distance himself from Scarpa's eagerness to settle matters. Patta said
nothing, and so an emboldened Brunetti asked, 'Is there some question
about these people?
These witnesses?' By a remarkable exercise of restraint, Brunetti kept
all hint of sarcasm from the last word. Still Patta | said nothing,
and so Brunetti asked, 'What, exactly, did he tell you, sir?' I
Patta waved Brunetti to his seat again and contented himself with
leaning back in his chair, and holding his chin with one hand no doubt
a non-threatening posture learned at a management seminar as a means to
create solidarity with an inferior. He smiled, rubbed briefly at his
left temple, then smiled again. 'I think the lieutenant might be too
eager to bring closure to the boy's parents.' Surely, this was a word
that had its origin in the same seminar. 'That is, it was rumoured at
the school that Moro was not his normal self during the days before his
death. Upon sober reflection, it occurs to me that the lieutenant
might have been hasty to interpret this as proof of suicide,' Patta
ventured, then added quickly, 'though I'm sure he's right.'
'Did these boys say how he was behaving?' Before Patta could answer
the question, Brunetti asked a second, 'And who were these boys?'
'I'm not sure he said,' Patta answered.
'Surely it's in his report,' Brunetti said, leaning forward minimally
as though expecting Patta to satisfy him by producing the lieutenant's
written report.
'He gave his report orally
'So he didn't mention any names?' Brunetti asked.
'Not that I recall, no,' Patta said.
'Do you know if he subsequently submitted a written report?'
'No, but I doubt he'd consider that necessary, not after having spoken
to me,' Patta said.
'Of course.'
'What's that supposed to mean?' Patta demanded, swiftly returning to
his usual manner.
Brunetti's smile was bland. 'Only that he would have
thought he had done his duty by reporting to his superior.' He allowed
a long pause to extend beyond this, then changed his expression to one
he'd seen used by a tenor singing the Simpleton in Boris Godunov, 'What
should we do now, sir?'
For a moment, he feared he'd gone too far, but Patta's response
suggested he had not. 'I think it might be wise to speak to the
parents again,' Patta began, 'to see if they're willing to accept the
judgment that it was suicide.' There were still times when Patta's
honesty was breathtaking, so absolute was his lack of interest in the
truth.
Brunetti offered, 'Perhaps the lieutenant should go and speak to them,
sir? '
