Brunetti turned partly towards Vianello, who was now softly patting the
back of the other woman's hand. 'Because she does he said.
The younger woman began to protest but let it drop even before she
could pronounce the first word. As Brunetti watched, her face
displayed her recognition of the truth of his remark. Her body relaxed
and she asked, 'What do you need to ask him?'
The told you, Signora. About the death of the cadet.'
'Only about that?' Her glance was as clear and direct as her
question.
'Yes.' He could have left it at that, but he felt himself bound
by Vianello's promise. 'It should be. But I won't know until I speak
Lo him.'
Luigina suddenly took her hand from Vianello's chest. She turned to
the other woman and said, 'Giuliano.' After she pronounced the name,
she gave a nervous grin that tugged at Brunetti's pity as it pulled at
her mouth.
The younger woman stepped close to her and took her right hand in both
of hers. 'It's all right, Luigina. Nothing will happen to
Giuliano.'
The woman must have understood what she heard, for the grin expanded
into a smile and she clapped her hands together in undisguised
happiness. She turned towards the back of the house, but before she
could move the younger woman placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.
'But the gentleman needs to speak to Giuliano alone,' she began, making
a business of looking at her watch. 'And while he's doing that, you
can feed the chickens. It's time for that.' Brunetti knew little
about country life, but he did know that chickens didn't get fed in the
middle of the day.
'Chickens?' Luigina asked, confused by the abrupt change of subject.
'You have chickens, Signora?' Vianello asked with great enthusiasm,
stepping forward until he was directly in front of her. 'Would you
show them to me?' he asked.
Again, the lopsided smile, at the chance to show her friend the
chickens.
Turning to Pucetti, Vianello said, The Signora's going to show us the
chickens, Pucetti.' Without waiting for Pucetti to respond, Vianello
placed a hand on the woman's arm and started to walk with her to the
front door of the house. 'How many ... ?' Brunetti heard the
Inspector begin, and then, as if he'd realized that the act of counting
was probably well beyond this woman's powers, he continued seamlessly,
'... times have I wanted to see chickens.' He turned to Pucetti.
'Come on, let's go see the chickens.'
When they were alone, Brunetti asked the woman, 'May I ask who you are,
Signora?'
'I'm Giuliano's aunt.'
'And the other signora?' he asked.
'His mother.' When Brunetti followed this with no inquiry, she added,
'She was injured some years ago, while Giuliano was still a boy.'
'And before that?' Brunetti asked.
'What do you mean? Was she normal?' she demanded, attempting an angry
tone but not fully succeeding.
Brunetti nodded.
'Yes, she was. As normal as I. I'm her sister, Tiziana.'
'I thought so he said. 'You look very much alike, the two of you.'
'She was the beautiful one,' she said sadly. 'Before.' If this
woman's neglected beauty were any indication, then Luigina must indeed
have been a wonder.
'May I ask what happened?'
'You're a policeman, aren't you?'
'Yes.'
'Does that mean you can't repeat things?'
'If they're not related to the case I'm investigating, no.' Brunetti
failed to tell her that it was more a case of what he chose not to
reveal than what he was forbidden to, but his answer satisfied her.
'Her husband shot her. And then he shot himself,' she said. When
Brunetti made no comment, she continued, 'He meant to kill her and then
himself. But he failed, at least with Luigina.'
'Why did he do it?'
