Moro displayed no sign that he found Brunetti's words at all unusual.
'You might say that,' he answered.
'I've thought a great deal about our last meeting,' Brunetti said,
hoping to establish some connection with the man.
'I don't remember it,' Moro said, neither smiling nor frowning at the
admission.
'I tried to talk to you about your son.'
'That's understandable, Commissario, as he had just died, and you
seemed to be in charge of investigating his death.'
Brunetti hunted, but hunted in vain, for sarcasm or anger in the
doctor's tone. I've thought about him a great deal Brunetti
repeated.
'And I think of nothing but my son Moro said coolly.
'Is there anything among your thoughts that you can tell me?' Brunetti
asked, and then amended his question by adding, 'or will tell me?'
'Of what interest could my thoughts be to you, Commissario?' the
doctor asked. As Moro talked, Brunetti observed that his right hand
never stopped moving, as his thumb and middle finger kept rubbing
against one another, busy rolling some invisible object between them.
'As I said, Dottore, I think you must be beyond lies now, so I won't
hide from you the fact that I don't think your son killed himself.'
Moro's gaze drifted away from Brunetti for a moment and then returned
to him. 'Lies aren't the only thing I'm beyond, Commissario.'
'What does that mean?' Brunetti asked with conscious politeness.
That I have little interest in the future.'
'Your own?'
'My own or, for that fact, anyone else's.'
'Your wife's?' Brunetti asked, ashamed of himself for doing so.
Moro blinked twice, appeared to consider Brunetti's question, and then
answered, 'My wife and I are separated.'
'Your daughter, then?' Brunetti said, recalling a reference to the
child in one of the articles he had read about Moro.
'She's in her mother's care Moro said with every evidence of
indifference.
Brunetti wanted to say that he was still the girl's father, but he
couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, he contented himself with
saying, 'That's a legal situation, a separation.'
It took Moro a long time to answer. Finally he said, 'I'm not sure I
understand you
Until now Brunetti had paid little attention to their words, allowing
his consciousness to move ahead as if on automatic pilot. His mind
detached from meaning, he paid closer attention to Moro's tone and
gestures, the way he sat and the pitch of his voice. Brunetti sensed
that the man had moved to some place distant from pain, almost as if
his heart had been put in protective custody and his mind had been left
behind to answer questions. But there remained, as well, an enormous
sense of fear; not fear of Brunetti but of saying something that might
reveal what lay behind the facade of calm restraint.
Brunetti decided to answer what the doctor clearly intended as a
question. 'I've spoken to your wife, sir, and she voices no rancour
towards you.'
'Did you expect her to?'
'In the situation, yes, I think it would be understandable if she did.
That way, she could somehow hold you responsible for what happened to
your son. Presumably it was your decision that he attend the
Academy.'
Moro shot him a stunned glance, opened his mouth as if to speak in his
own defence, but stopped himself and said nothing. Brunetti averted
his eyes from the other man's anger, and when he looked back, Moro's
face was empty of feeling.
For a long time, Brunetti could think of nothing to say until at last
he spoke entirely without thinking. 'I'd like you to trust me,
Dottore.'
After a long time, Moro said, voice tired, 'And I'd like to trust you,
Commissario. But I do not and will not.' He saw Brunetti preparing to
object and quickly went on, 'It's not because you don't seem like a
perfectly honest man but because I have learned to trust no one.'
Brunetti tried to speak again, and this time Moro held up a hand to
stop him.
'Further, you represent a state I perceive as both criminal and
negligent, and that is enough to exclude you, absolutely, from my
