A Venetian Reckoning by Donna Leon

Author:Donna Leon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Ulverscroft
Published: 1997-06-14T18:30:00+00:00

18

The first thing Brunetti did when he arrived at his office the next morning was to dial Barbara Zorzi's home number. After the beep, he said, 'Dottoressa, this is Guido Brunetti. If you're there, please pick up. I need to talk to you about the Trevisans again. I've learned that...'

'Yes?' she said, cutting in but not surprising him by failing to exchange pleasantries or greetings.

'I'd like to know if Signora Trevisan's visit to your office had anything to do with a pregnancy.' Before she could answer, he added, 'Not her daughter's, her own.'

'Why do you want to know this?' she asked.

The autopsy report said her husband had had a vasectomy.'

'How long ago?'

'I don't know. Does that make a difference?'

There was a long pause before she spoke again. 'No, I suppose it doesn't Yes, when she came to me two years ago, she thought she was pregnant She was forty-one at the time, so it was possible.’

'Was she?'

'No.'

'"Was she particularly disturbed about it?'

'At the time, I thought not, well, not more than a woman her age would be, who thought all of that was behind her. But now I suppose I have to say that, yes, she was.'

'Thank you,' Brunetti said simply. 'Is that all?' Her surprise was audible. 'Yes.'

'You aren't going to ask if I knew who the father was?'

'No. I think if you had thought it was anyone other man Trevisan, you would have told me the other day.'

She didn't answer for a moment, but when she did, she drew the first word out. 'Yes, I probably would have.'

'Good.'

'Perhaps.'

"Thank you,' Brunetti said and hung up.

Next he called Trevisan's office and attempted to arrange an appointment with Avvocato Safvatore Martucci, but he was told that Signor Martucci had gone to Milan on business and would return Commissario Brunetti's call as soon as he returned to Venice. No new papers lay on his desk, and so he contented himself with the list he had made the day before and with reflecting upon his conversation with the Judge.

Not for a moment did it occur to Brunetti to question the truth of anything Judge Beniamin had told him nor to spend any time attempting to confirm it. Given, then, Trevisan's probable involvement with the Mafia, his death began to look even more like an execution: as sudden and anonymous as a bolt of lightning. From his name, Martucci would probably turn out to be a Southerner: Brunetti warned himself against the prejudice that would carry that fact towards certain assumptions, especially should Martucci turn out to be Sicilian.

That left the daughter, Francesca, and her story of her parents' fear of kidnapping. Before he left the house that morning, Brunetti had told Chiara that the police had straightened out the kidnapping story and didn't need any more help from her. Even the most remote possibility that someone might learn of Chiara's interest in a matter that had to do with the Mafia caused Brunetti profound uneasiness, and he knew that a display of casual uninterest was the best way to dissuade her from asking more questions.

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