Transient Desires by Donna Leon

Author:Donna Leon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grove Atlantic
Published: 2021-02-19T17:46:18+00:00

16

Both men remained silent for some time. Vio kept his head bent and shifted his phone from side to side on his lap. Brunetti tried to sort through the tangle of his own thoughts and feelings. He had no idea of what judges – should it ever come to a trial – would decide. How measure, how prove, a person’s intent? Only actions mattered, and surely they had taken them to the hospital with the clear purpose of getting them medical help.

‘Had you been drinking?’ Brunetti asked.

Vio’s surprise could not be masked. ‘No, Signore. I don’t drink if I’m going to be in the boat.’

‘Unlike most of your colleagues,’ Brunetti said neutrally.

Vio actually smiled, as though he’d not thought of this.

‘Drugs?’ Brunetti asked in the same dispassionate tone.

‘I don’t like them.’

As if talking to a friend about some trivial matter, Brunetti asked, ‘Did you ever try them?’

‘Once. When I was about fourteen. I don’t know what it was, but it made me sick, really sick. So I never did it again.’

‘Were you in charge of the boat when the accident happened?’

‘Of course,’ Vio answered, unable to hide his surprise at such a question. He must have read Brunetti’s expression, for he said, ‘Aside from two other men who work for my uncle, I’m the only one who can pilot that boat.’ Vio could have been reciting the Pythagorean Theorem, although Brunetti doubted he was familiar with it.

‘I see,’ Brunetti responded. And then, curious, he asked, ‘Doesn’t Duso know how?’

‘Yes, sir. I taught him, so he’s good.’

‘But not good enough for your uncle’s boat?’

Vio was a long time in answering the question. ‘It’s against the rules. He doesn’t have a licence, so he can’t drive anything over 40 horsepower.’ After a moment’s reflections, Vio added, ‘Besides, he could never handle that boat.’

If Brunetti were to say the same thing to Vianello, he realized, or indeed to any of the men who were familiar with boats, proposing that someone would not be allowed to drive a boat bigger than permitted by his licence, they would fall about laughing. A licence was a suggestion, not a limitation; it was a kind of non-restrictive formality, and some people piloted any boat they chose to, regardless of the power of its engine. Not the really big transport boats, Brunetti admitted to himself, but certainly the smaller ones.

‘At the Questura,’ Brunetti began, ‘you said your licence was good for all of your uncle’s boats.

Vio’s face still registered pride in his own capacities when he continued, ‘Yes. My uncle made me get them all: he said he didn’t want any trouble with the water police.’ He paused, as if uncertain whether to say what he was thinking, and then added, ‘I got them all with no trouble. First try.’ Vio’s smiled broadened as he said this, it made him look younger.

‘Good for you,’ Brunetti congratulated him. ‘How long have you worked for your uncle?’

‘Oh, I started when I was a kid. Just loading and unloading the boats.’

‘How old were you?’ Brunetti asked.

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