boat at Faro and also started down Viale Garibaldi. âThe one in red,â Paola said, moving closer to Brunetti and taking his arm in hers, âis Professoressa Amadori.â
âAnd is that the Professor?â Brunetti asked, pointing with his other hand at a tall man with silver hair who walked at the side of the elderly woman in the red coat.
Paola nodded. âBehave yourself, lookattentive and inferior, and perhaps Iâll introduce you to her,â she promised.
âIs she that bad?â Brunetti asked, glancing again at what appeared to be a completely ordinary woman, thesort one would see at Rialto, haggling over the price of mullet. From behind, her legs were slightly bowed, her feet stuffed into what looked like very uncomfortable shoes, or perhaps that impression resulted from her walk â tiny steps with inturned toes.
âSheâs worse,â Paola said. âIâve seen male students come out of their oral exams with her in tears: itâs almost a point of pride with her never to be satisfied with their performance.â She paused for a moment, her attention drawn by something in a window, then turned away and continued walking. âIâve known other students who have cancelled exams, even produced doctorâs certificates, once they learned that she would be on the examining committee.â
âCould it be that sheâs only very demanding of them?â he asked.
That stopped her in her tracks. She pulled back a step and looked him in the face. âYou have been living with me for the last twenty years, havenât you, Signore?â she asked. âAnd you have heard me mention her a few times?â
âSix hundred and twenty-seven,â Brunetti said. âIf thatâs a few.â
âGood,â she said, taking his arm and starting to walk again. âThen you know that it has nothing to do with being demanding, only with being a jealous bitch who doesnât want anyone,ever, to have a chance at getting anything sheâs got.â
âBy failing students in their exams?â Brunetti asked.
âThen they canât get their degrees, which means thereâs no chance they can join the faculty, and because thereâs no chance theyâll become colleagues, thereâs no chance theyâll ever get an appointment or a promotion or a grant that she might want.â
âThatâs crazy,â Brunetti said.
She stopped again. âIs this the same man who works for Vice-Questore Giuseppe Patta?â she demanded.
âThatâs different,â Brunetti was quick to protest.
âHow?â she demanded, stopping again and no doubt unwilling to move until he answered.
âHe doesnât have any power over what I do. He canât fail me in an exam.â
She looked at him as though he had started to foam at the mouth and howl. âNo power over what you do?â she asked.
Brunetti smiled and shrugged. âAll right, but he canât fail me in an exam.â
She smiled back at him and took his arm. âBelieve me about this, Guido. Sheâs a bitch.â
âI stand warned,â he said affably. âThe Professor?â
âA marriage made in heaven,â was all she was willing to volunteer by way of information on that subject.
When they reached the canal, they turned leftand then crossed Ponte Ballarin, turning right at the bottom. âItâs got to be along here somewhere,â Paola said, slowing her steps and looking into the windows of the shops and galleries they passed.
âIt should be on the invitation,â Brunetti said.
âI know,â she said. âBut I forgot to bring it.â
They continued walking down the
riva
, attentive to the windows on their left. Past the
pescheria
they went, past a few more shops, some still open, some already closed. Three people emerged from a doorway in front of them and paused to light cigarettes, holding each
Elizabeth Amelia Barrington