Wilful Behaviour Read Online Free PDF Page B

talk to you, Claudia. He’s very fond of history, and I’ve listened to him say for years what you’ve just said.’
    ‘Really? He reads?’ Claudia asked, then, aware of how insulting that sounded, added lamely, ‘History, I mean.’
    ‘Yes,’ Paola answered, gathering up her papers and resisting the impulse to add that her husband was also able to write. In a voice just as pleasant as previously, she said, ‘Usually the Romans and the Greeks. The lies they tell seem to leave him less angry than the ones contemporary historians tell, or so he says.’
    Claudia smiled at this. ‘Yes, I can understand that. Would you tell him that I’ll call him, probably tomorrow? And that I’m very eager to meet him?’
    Paola found it remarkable that this attractive young woman seemed to find nothing at all unusual in telling another woman how eager she was to meet her husband. The girl was by no means stupid, so it must result only from a sort of ingenuousness Paola had not seen in a student in quite some time or from some other motive she could not discern.
    It went against everything she had learned about the necessity of avoiding involvement with students, but curious now to know what was behind Claudia’s request, she said, ‘Yes, I’ll tell him.’
    Claudia smiled and said, quite formally, ‘Thank you, Professoressa.’
    Bright, apparently widely read, at least trilingual, and respectful to her elders. Considering these things, it occurred to Paola that perhaps the girl had been raised on Mars.

5
    BECAUSE PAOLA HAD told him the night before that the girl wanted to talk to him directly, Brunetti realized who it must be when the guard at the entrance to the Questura phoned him to say that a young woman was downstairs, asking to speak to him.
    ‘What’s her name?’ Brunetti asked.
    There was a pause, after which the guard said, ‘Claudia Leonardo.’
    ‘Show her up, please,’ Brunetti said and set down the phone. He finished reading a paragraph from a meaningless report on spending proposals, set the paper aside and picked up another, not at all unaware that this would show him to be busy when the girl arrived.
    There was a knock, the door opened, and he saw a uniformed arm, quickly withdrawn, and then a young woman. She came into the office, certainly looking far too young to be a university student preparing for her last exams, as Paola had said.
    He stood, motioning toward the chair that faced him. ‘Good morning, Signorina Leonardo. I’m very glad you found time to come and see me,’ he said in a tone he attempted to make sound avuncular.
    Her quick glance told him she was accustomed to being patronized by older people; it also showed him how little she liked it. She seated herself, and Brunetti did the same. She was a pretty girl in the way young girls are almost always pretty: oval face, short dark hair and smooth skin. But she seemed bright and attentive in a way they seldom are.
    ‘My wife told me there’s something you wanted to discuss with me,’ he said when he realized she was leaving it for him to speak.
    ‘Yes, sir.’ Her gaze was direct, patient.
    ‘She said you were curious about the possibility of a pardon for something that happened a long time ago and for which, unless I misunderstood what my wife told me, a man was convicted.’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ she repeated, her glance so unwavering as to make Brunetti wonder if she were waiting for him to resume patronizing her and was curious only as to what new form it would take.
    ‘She also said that he was sent to San Servolo and died there.’
    ‘That’s right.’ There was no sign of emotion or eagerness on the girl’s face.
    Sensing that there would be no warming her with these questions, he said, ‘She also told me you were reading the Mack Smith biography of Mussolini.’
    Her smile revealed two rows of immaculate teeth and seemed to open her eyes wider, until the dark brown irises were completely surrounded with brilliant, healthy white.