todayâs standards, were enormous: his own parents had each had sixsiblings. Do we try today to treat children better, now that they are in short supply? he wondered.
Brunetti suddenly raised the fingers of his right hand to his forehead in an involuntary gesture of surprise. No formal charge had been brought against Dottor Pedrolli, Brunetti had seen no evidence, and here he was, assuming the manâs guilt, just on the word of some captain in riding boots.
His reverie was broken by Vianello, who appeared at the end of the corridor and came to sit beside him. âIâm glad youâre here,â the Inspector said.
âWhatâs going on?â Brunetti asked, no less relieved to see the Inspector.
Speaking softly, Vianello began to explain. âI was on night shift with Riverre when the call came in: I couldnât make any sense of it,â he said, then tried and failed to stop himself from yawning.
He slumped forward with his elbows on his knees and turned his head to Brunetti. âA woman called, saying that there were men with guns in front of a house in San Marco. Over by La Fenice: Calle Venier. Near the old Carive offices. So we sent a patrol over, but by the time they got there, the men were gone, and someone shouted down from a window that it was the Carabinieri and that a man was hurt and theyâd taken him to the hospital.â
Vianello glanced at Brunetti to see if he was following, then continued. âIt was the guys on the patrol â our guys â who called and told meall of this and that it was a doctor who was hurt, so I came over here to see what was going on, and thatâs when some jerk of a captain â wearing riding boots, for Godâs sake â told me it was their case and none of my business.â Brunetti let his Inspectorâs contempt for an officer go unremarked.
âThatâs when I decided to call you,â Vianello said.
The Inspector paused and Brunetti asked, âWhat else?â
âAfter I did â call you, that is â I waited here for a while. I spoke to the neurologist when he got here and tried to tell him what was going on. But then Little Red Riding Boots came out of the room, and the doctor went in to see his patient. So I went down to the boat and talked to one of the Carabinieri who brought him in. He told me the squad making the arrest were from Verona, but the guy with the boots is stationed here. Heâs from Pordenone or some place like that, but heâs been here for six months or so. Anyway, there was trouble when they went in to arrest this doctor. Heâd fallen or something when he attacked one of them, and when they couldnât get him back on his feet, his wife started screaming, so they decided to bring him over here to have the doctors take a look.â
âDid he say anything about a baby?â Brunetti asked.
âNo. Nothing,â Vianello answered with a confused look. âThe man I spoke to didnât seem to want to say much, and I wasnât sure what toask. I just wanted to find out what happened to this doctor, how he got hurt.â
Briefly, Brunetti told Vianello what he had learned from Marvilli about the raid, its purpose, and its result. Vianello muttered something; Brunetti thought he heard the word âattackedâ.
âYou donât think he fell?â Brunetti asked, remembering what Dottoressa Cardinale had said.
Vianello let out his breath in a sudden noise of disbelief. âNot unless he tripped over the Captainâs spurs when they got him out of bed. He was naked when they brought him in. Or at least thatâs what one of the nurses downstairs told me. Wrapped in a blanket, but naked.â
âAnd so?â Brunetti asked.
âTake a manâs clothes off him, and heâs only half a man,â Vianello said. âA naked man doesnât attack a man with a gun,â he concluded, incorrectly in this case.
âTwo, I