listen.' He brought his hands together and folded them primly on the
table.
'He had the stuff there in the bathroom, and he showed me the rope. It
was where it was ... I mean, where it was after, when they found him.
It was long, so he could sort of crouch on the floor in there and
pretend to fall over. And that would make him choke. And that's why
it was so good. The choking, or something. Or that's what he said.'
Silence. From beyond the wall, everyone in the room could hear a low
humming noise: computer? tape recorder? It hardly mattered.
Brunetti remained absolutely silent.
The boy began again. 'So he did it. I mean, he had this bag and put
it over his head and over the rope. And then he started laughing and
tried to say something, but I couldn't
understand what he said. I remember he pointed at me and laughed
again, then he started to ... and after a while, he crouched down and
sort of fell over to the side.'
The boy's face grew suddenly red and Brunetti watched his hands grip at
one another. But he went on, unable to stop himself from telling it
all until it was finished. 'He kicked a few times and his hands
started to wave around. And then he started to scream or something and
kick real hard. I tried to grab him, but he kicked me so hard he
knocked me out of the shower. But I went back and I tried to untie the
rope, but the plastic bag was tied over it, so I couldn't get to the
rope, and when I did, I couldn't untie the knot because he was yanking
around so much. And then, and then, he stopped kicking, but when I got
to him it was too late, and I think he was dead.'
The boy wiped at his face, which was covered with sweat.
'And then what did you do, Paolo?' Brunetti asked.
The don't know. For the first minute, I just was there, next to him. I
never saw a dead person before, but I don't remember what I did.' He
glanced up, then immediately down. As Brunetti watched, his father
reached out and placed his left hand on top of his son's clenched
hands. He squeezed them once and left his hand there.
Encouraged by that pressure, Paolo went on. 'I guess I panicked. I
thought it was my fault because I hadn't been able to save him or stop
him. Maybe I could have, but I didn't.'
'What did you do, Paolo?' Brunetti repeated.
'I wasn't thinking much, but I didn't want them to find him like that.
People would know what happened.'
'And so?' Brunetti prodded.
The don't know where I got the idea, but I thought if it looked like a
suicide, well, it would be bad, but it wouldn't be as bad as ... as the
other.' This time, Brunetti didn't press, hoping that the boy would
continue by himself.
'So I tried to make it look like he hanged himself. I knew I had to
pull him up and leave him there.' Brunetti's eyes fell to
their clasped hands; the father's knuckles were white. 'So that's what
I did. And I left him there.' The boy opened his mouth and pulled air
into his lungs as though he'd been running for kilometres.
'And the plastic bag?' Brunetti asked when his breathing had grown
calmer.
'I took it with me and threw it away. I don't remember where. In the
garbage somewhere.' 'And then what did you do?'
'I don't remember much. I think I went back to my room.' 'Did anyone
see you?' 'I don't know.' 'Your roommate?'
'I don't remember he said. 'Maybe. I don't remember how I got back to
my room.'
What's the next thing you do remember, Paolo?' 'The next morning,
Zanchi woke me up and told me what had happened. And then it was too
late to do anything.' 'Why are you telling me this now?' Brunetti
asked. The boy shook his head. He separated his hands and grabbed at
his father's with his right. Finally in a soft voice, he said, 'I'm
afraid.' 'Of what?'
'Of what will happen. Of what it could look like.'
'What's that?'
That I didn't want to help him, that I let it happen to him because I
didn't like him.'
'Did people think you didn't like him?'
That's what he told me to do,' Paolo said, turning minimally away from
his father, as if fearful of what he would see on his face, but not
letting go of his hand. That's what Ernesto told me to do. So people
wouldn't know about the other thing.'
