left eye angled up towards her temple, while the same side of her mouth
drooped. Her skin seemed baby soft and was without wrinkles, though
she must have been well into her forties.
'Si?' she finally inquired.
'Is this the home of Giuliano Ruffo?' Brunetti asked.
She might have been a speaker of some other language, so long did it
take her to translate his words into meaning. As Brunetti watched, he
thought he saw her mouth the word, 'Giuliano', as if that would help
her answer the question.
'Momenta,' the woman said, and the consonants caused her great
difficulty. She turned away, leaving it to them to close the door. Or
just as easily, Brunetti said to himself, walk off with everything in
the house or, if they preferred, kill everyone inside and drive away
undisturbed, even by the dogs.
The three men crowded into the hall and stood there, waiting for the
woman to return or for someone to arrive
better able to answer their questions. After a few minutes they heard
footsteps come towards them from the back of the house. The woman in
the green cardigan returned, and behind her was another woman, younger,
and wearing a sweater made from the same wool but by more skilful
hands. This woman's features and bearing, too, spoke of greater
refinement: dark eyes that instantly sought his, a sculpted mouth
poised to speak, and an air of concentrated attention left Brunetti
with a general impression of brightness and light.
'Si?' she said. Both her tone and her expression made the question
one that required not only an answer, but an explanation.
'I'm Commissario Guido Brunetti, Signora. I'd like to speak to
Giuliano Ruffo. Our records show that this is his home.'
'What do you want to talk to him about?' the second woman asked.
'About the death of one of his fellow cadets.'
During this exchange, the first woman stood to one side of Brunetti,
open mouthed, her face moving back and forth from one to the other as
he spoke to the younger woman, seeming to register only sound. Brunetti
saw her in profile, and noticed that the undamaged side of her face was
similar to that of the other woman's. Sisters, then, or perhaps
cousins.
'He's not here the younger woman said.
Brunetti had no patience for this. 'Then he's in violation of his
leave from the Academy,' he said, thinking this might perhaps be
true.
To hell with the Academy,' she answered fiercely.
'All the more reason for him to talk to us, then,' he countered.
'I told you, he's not here.'
Suddenly angry, Brunetti said, 'I don't believe you.' The idea of what
life in the countryside was like came to him, the
boredom of work relieved only by the hope that some new misery would
befall a neighbour. 'If you like, we can leave and then come back
again with three cars, with sirens wailing and red lights flashing, and
fill your courtyard and then go and ask all of your neighbours if they
know where he is.'
'You wouldn't do that,' she said, far more truthfully than she
realized.
'Then let me talk to him Brunetti said. 'Giuliano,' said the first
woman, surprising them all.
'It's all right, Luigina,' the younger woman said, placing a hand on
her forearm. These men have come to see Giuliano.'
'Giuliano,' the older woman repeated in the same dull, uninflected
tone.
'That's right, cam. They're friends of his, and they've come to
visit.'
'Friends,' the woman repeated with a crooked smile. She moved towards
the bulk of Vianello, who was looming behind his colleagues. She
raised her right hand and placed the open palm on the centre of his
chest. She raised her face up to his and said, 'Friend.'
Vianello placed his hand over hers and said, That's right, Signora.
Friends.'
There ensued a moment of intense awkwardness, at least for Brunetti,
Pucetti and the younger woman. Vianello and Luigina remained linked by
her hand on his chest, while Brunetti turned to the other woman and
said, 'Signora, I do need to speak to Giuliano. You have my
inspector's word: we're friends.'
'Why should I trust you?' she demanded.
