Death and Judgement Read Online Free PDF Page B

anything wrong. So, no, I won't tell her.'
    Moved by curiosity, he asked, 'And if it did make a difference? If she had done something wrong?'
    'If it would help her, I'd warn her. Of course.'
    'Even if it meant betraying a police secret, signorina?' he asked, then smiled to show he was only joking, although he wasn't.
    She glanced at him, uncomprehending. 'Do you think police secrets would matter at all if something concerned my family?'
    Chastened, he answered, 'No, signorina, I don't suppose they would.'
    Signorina Elettra smiled, glad that she had again assisted the commissario towards understanding.
    'Do you know anything else about the wife?' - he corrected himself - 'widow?'
    'No, not personally. I've read about her in the paper, of course. She's always involved in Worthy Causes,' she said, making the capitals audible. 'You know, like collecting food to send to Somalia, that gets stolen and sent to Albania and sold. Or organizing those gala concerts at La Fenice that never seem to do anything but cover expenses and give the organizers a chance to get dressed up and show off to their friends. I'm surprised you don't know who she is.'
    ‘I have a vague memory of having seen the name but no more than that. What about the husband?'
    'International law, I think, and very good at it. I think I might have read something about a deal with Poland or Czechoslovakia - one of those places where they eat potatoes and dress badly - but I can't remember which.'
    'What sort of deal?'
    She shook her head, unable to remember.
    'Could you find out?'
    'If I went down to the Gazzettino offices and had a look, I suppose I could.'
    'Do you have anything to do for the Vice-Questore?'
    'I ’ ll just make his lunch reservation, and then I’ll go down to the Gazzettino. Would you like me to look for anything else?'
    'Yes, about the wife, as well. Who is it who writes the society stuff these days?'
    'Pitteri, I think.'
    'Well, speak to him and see if there's anything he can tell you about either of them, the sort of thing he can't publish.'
    'Which is always the sort of thing people most want to read ’
    'So it seems,' Brunetti said.
    'Anything else, sir?'
    'No, thank you, signorina. Is Vianello here?' 'I haven't seen him yet.'
    'When he comes in, would you send him up to me, please? ’
    'Certainly,' she answered and went back to her magazine. Brunetti glanced down to see what article she was reading - shoulder pads - and then went back up to his own office.
    The file, as was always the case at the beginning of an investigation, contained little more than names and dates. Carlo Trevisan had been born in Trento fifty years ago, had been educated at the University of Padua, from which he took a degree in law and after which he established himself as a lawyer in Venice. Eighteen years ago, he married Franca Lotto, with whom he had two children, a daughter, Francesca, now fifteen, and a son, Claudio, seventeen.
    Avvocato Trevisan had never interested himself in criminal law and had himself never been involved with the police in any way. Nor had he ever come under the scrutiny of the Guardia di Finanza, which suggested either a miracle or that the Avvocato 's tax returns were always in order, this in itself another kind of miracle. The file contained the names of the people employed in Trevisan's law office and a copy of his passport application.
    'Lavata con Perlana’ Brunetti said aloud as he laid the papers down on his desk, repeating the slogan of a liquid detergent that promised to get everything, anything, cleaner than clean. Who would be cleaner than Carlo Trevisan? More interestingly, who could have put two bullets in his gut and not bothered to take his wallet?
    Brunetti pulled out his bottom drawer with the toe of his right foot, leaned back in his chair, and folded his feet on the open drawer. Whoever did it must have done it between Padua and Mestre: no one would have taken the chance of being caught on the same train when it pulled