The Marshal and the Madwoman Read Online Free PDF

thought anything of it. The shops being closed and nothing doing in the square, it didn't seem odd that she didn't show herself all day because she never starts cleaning until towards evening. It takes her that way. She . . .' He glanced at the body. 'It's a rum business and no mistake. I'm not feeling too chipper, to tell you the truth. Where was I?'
    'She didn't show herself all day.'
    'No, well. . . We were out, too, as it happens, at my sister-in-law's. We must have got back about seven. The first thing the wife thought of when we got in was Clementina's supper.'
    'Clementina? Is that—?'
    'Clementina, yes! That's what we're on about, isn't it?'
    'I'm sorry, I didn't remember her name. Go on.'
    'We've always given her a bit of something—not that we're the only ones. We all do our bit round here. I'm not saying we're paragons of virtue. We're rough and ready, you know what I mean, but we look after our neighbours and I'm not boasting when I say my wife does more than most and I've never discouraged her.'
    On and on he went until the Marshal would willingly have canonized the whole family on the spot if only he'd get to the point. And all the time Pippo was talking he kept his eyes fixed on the table or on his hands, every now and then darting a sharp glance at the Marshal's face, though not directly in his eyes, to see how it was all going down.
    The Marshal's face, as always, was expressionless. His big, slightly bulging eyes missed nothing and betrayed nothing.
    'A bit of minestrone and some bread—she buys herself a bit of bread every day but when it's a holiday and two days' bread to buy together she always ends up without. Not that it's much, a bit of soup and bread—though there was a peach in the basket, too, now I think, I remember the wife saying—but somebody getting on in years doesn't want heavy food. So anyway, when it was ready she called across from the window but there was no answer.'
    Light dawned. The trouble about people who wanted to hide something was that they weren't necessarily hiding the thing you were looking for, and that always confused the issue. The reams of self-praise, the virtuous citizen's speech and those nervous glances at the Marshal's face all added up to the fact that the big fight last week had been between Clementina and Pippo's wife. In other words, Pippo had given the Marshal his black eye! Would they get on any faster if the Marshal told him that he knew and wouldn't dream of doing anything about it now? Not on your life! They'd be another half-hour with all the whys and wherefores of the pigeon problem. All he said was, 'Was the window open when your wife called out?'
    'Wide open. And the shutters. And you see how small this flat is. Even if she'd been asleep she'd have heard.'
    From what the Marshal remembered of the wife's raucous voice, this was certainly true.
    'What did you think when she didn't answer?'
    'I thought right away I'd better go and call Franco.'
    Of course! Not the Carabinieri or an ambulance or any other authority but Franco, who was evidently going to be a force to be reckoned with in this business, placid and kindly-looking though he was.
    'Franco came out with me and we stood under the window calling up. A few others came out and joined in but we couldn't make her hear—well, of course not, but we weren't to know. Our first thought was that she might be a bit under the weather after last night. You know how it is?'
    'No. What happened last night?'
    'The party. We had this supper out in the square. Franco organized it. The idea was that as everybody except us was away at the seaside we should do something to enjoy ourselves for the fifteenth. We decided on doing it on the evening of the fourteenth, Franco did, so we could all sleep it off this morning. Some people have got tomorrow off as well, I have myself, but not everybody, so that's what we did. Everybody paid so much a week for four weeks and last night we had a real slap-up do. Four courses. A