About face by Donna Léon

Author:Donna Léon [Léon, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Policier
ISBN: 9780099533368
Published: 2010-09-15T10:21:00+00:00

16

Brunetti decided it would be better to talk to Patta about Guarino, but when he arrived at the Questura, the guard at the entrance told him the Vice-Questore had left an hour before. Relieved, he went up to his office and called Vianello to ask him to come up. When the Inspector arrived, Brunetti told him about going out to Marghera and seeing Guarino, lying dead on his back in the field.

‘Where had they moved him from?’ Vianello asked immediately.

‘There’s no way of knowing. The men who found him walked around him as if they were at a picnic.’

‘Convenient,’ Vianello observed.

‘Before you begin with conspiracy theories,’ Brunetti – who had already begun to do so – said, but Vianello cut him short.

‘You trust this Ribasso?’

‘I think so, yes.’

‘Then not telling him you put a name to the man in the photo Guarino sent you doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Habit.’

‘Habit?’

‘Or territoriality,’ Brunetti compromised.

‘Lot of that around,’ Vianello observed, then added, ‘Nadia says it’s because of the goats.’

‘What goats? What are you talking about?’

‘Well, inheritance, really, who we leave the goats to or who gets them after we die.’ Had Vianello suddenly taken leave of his senses, or was Nadia using the garden behind their apartment for something other than flowers?

‘I think you better tell me in a way I can understand, Lorenzo,’ he said, welcoming the diversion.

‘You know Nadia reads, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ he said, and the verb forced his thoughts to another woman who read.

‘Well, she’s been reading an introduction to anthropology, or something like that. Sociology, maybe. She talks about it at dinner.’

‘Talks about what?’

‘Lately she’s been reading about inheritance rules and behaviour, as I said. Anyway, there’s this theory about why men are so aggressive and competitive – about why so many of us are bastards. She says it’s because we want to have access to the most fertile females.’

Brunetti propped his elbows on his desk and sank his head in his hands, moaning. He had wanted diversion, but not this.

‘All right, all right. But you needed the introduction,’ Vianello protested. ‘Once they get the most fertile females, they impregnate them, and that way they’re sure that the children who inherit the goats are really their own.’ Vianello looked across the desk to see if Brunetti was following, but he still had his head buried in his hands. ‘It made sense to me when she explained it, Guido. We all want our stuff to go to our kids, not to some cuckoo.’

Brunetti’s continuing silence – at least he had stopped moaning – forced Vianello to add, ‘So that’s why men compete. Evolution’s programmed it into us.’

‘Because of the goats?’ Brunetti raised his head to ask.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you mind if we talk about this some other time?’

‘As you will.’

Their light-heartedness seemed suddenly out of tune to Brunetti, who looked at the papers on his desk, at a loss what to say. Vianello got to his feet, said something about having to talk to Pucetti, and left. Brunetti continued to look at the papers.

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