Vita Nuova (21 page)

‘Let me offer you a coffee.’

They stopped off at the bar before reaching the exit.

‘Two coffees, please. A drop of something in it?’

‘No, no thank you.’

‘Two coffees! Captain. Marshal. Something to eat? Brioche? Toast?’

‘Not for me. You have something, Guarnaccia.’

‘No. I mustn’t. No . . . my wife. . . .’

‘So, a conviction for manslaughter’s no more than I expected, but I’m afraid when it goes up on appeal . . . those are pretty fancy lawyers, and it’ll be the usual “Good families, bright boys, future careers ruined, started as a prank, no intention to harm.” The sentences will be reduced. I’d be surprised if they served eighteen months.’

‘And if the children hadn’t been gypsy children?’

‘If they hadn’t been gypsy children, it wouldn’t have happened.’ The captain paid, and they stepped out into the cloister. ‘I gather your case isn’t going to trial.’

‘No, no . . . settled out of court. She was diagnosed years ago, so there was no question. The Beretta .22 was her own, did I tell you? Present from Daddy, she said. They found it in her room in all that chaos. Wigs, erotic outfits, and hundreds of photos of the two of them. And a diary. She stalked her father, everywhere he went. She’s in a clinic up north, but the problems will start when she gets out and stops taking her medication.’

‘Yes. Of course, now that the father and sister are gone, she might quieten down.’

‘They say not. It’s medication or nothing.’

‘The things people do to their children.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘But you said yourself, the father was monstrous.’

‘Oh, yes. I was afraid of him, I don’t mind telling you, but I’ve long ago lost my taste for blaming people. His daughter’s like him. Whatever fancy name they give it, she’s crazy and dangerous like her father. She just wasn’t as good at it. It’s her mother we need to worry about. Like her daughter, Daniela. The born victims. Well, the main thing is that we’re rid of De Vita.’

‘But you’d have liked to get Paoletti.’

‘No. It’s better the way it is. Safer for everybody.’

‘Your driver . . . ?’

‘I sent him back. I’ll walk over. One or two calls to make on the way, and there’s never anywhere to stop. You didn’t say if there was any news about the two children from the hotel.’

‘The bureaucratic nightmare? Nothing new. I’m afraid it could go on for years. They’re safe and happy out in the country where the prosecutor placed them, as you said they would be, but if they’re to stay here they need documents and even though the sisters are orphans, they do have living relatives in Russia.’

‘Who sold them.’

‘Yes. The older one would be up to testifying about that. The important thing is not to have it blown up into a diplomatic incident. That would be the worst possible outcome. They’d be sent back. Better to go slowly and keep a low profile.’

‘You mean keep Nesti off the case, I suppose. But if it hadn’t been for him. . . . However, I’ll do my best.’

The guard saluted and the captain turned back.

The marshal walked upriver. He’d given up asking about Cristina. She hadn’t been there when the captain’s men raided the hotel. The other dancers from the club hadn’t seen her for days. She hadn’t got in touch with Maddalena. Of course, she could be prancing around half-dressed on television under some other name. The marshal wasn’t sure he would recognize her if he saw her. They were all so pretty, he couldn’t tell one from another.

There was another woman he didn’t recognize in the waiting room when he got back. He was walking through to his office with no more than a brief nod of greeting.

‘Marshal?’

He stopped. ‘Oh, Signora! And Piero! Come in, come in.’

‘I hope I’m not disturbing you. . . .’

‘No, no . . . have a seat.’ He hung up his hat and slipped his dark glasses into his top pocket. ‘So, Piero! What have you been up to?’

‘I’ve got new sneakers. Look.’ He ran up and down the small room, making coloured lights flash on his heels.

‘Good Heavens. I wonder if I could get a pair of those.’

‘You can. They’ve got loads. You have to cross at the traffic lights and there’s a big shop and the lady’s got a Band-Aid on her arm, there, right near her elbow. I’ve got a Band-Aid too, but it’s on my foot, so you can’t see it.’

‘Ah. And how do you like your new house?’

‘I don’t like it, because there’s no swimming pool.’

‘I see. Well, you can still go swimming. There are plenty of pools to go to.’

‘I know, but Nana never takes me. Is that your hat hanging up?’

‘You know it is, you saw me put it there. Do you want to wear it? Sit down there.’

Piero sat very still, keeping the hat balanced.

‘I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sold the house and that I’m grateful to you for advising me to get out right away rather than waiting. I feel so much better.’

‘You look wonderful.’

‘It’s just . . . Marshal, there’s a lot of money. The lawyers have explained that there won’t be a trial, that death extinguishes the crime. He got away with it to the last, didn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘But all that money. . . .’

‘I understand what you mean. But you have Piero to think of, and there’ll be a lot of expense in your life.’

They were both reluctant to name Silvana, but she was in both their minds.

‘I’ll never put Piero at risk again. I know I should have—Marshal, I’d lost one daughter. You do understand?’

‘Yes. I understand.’

Silvana was in a clinic for a mandatory two years, but she would surely discharge herself after that and stop taking her medication. A problem without end.

‘You’re going to need money, and help, too.’

‘Yes. I know you’re right, and Frida’s staying with me. Danuta’s met somebody, so. . . . But so much money and so much damage.’

‘You suffered damage too, Signora.’

‘Oh, my poor Daniela.’

‘Why did he do what he did? No. I don’t mean what you think. I mean how come he let you bring her home?’

‘He didn’t let me. That’s not how it was. He insisted. It was because of Silvana. He put me through a couple of abortions and then decided a man should have children. A respectable family. He wanted a son, of course, but then when Silvana came along she worshipped the ground he walked on. He loved that. He owned her and she adored him. He used to choose her dresses. And since I couldn’t have any more, he decided to bring Daniela home.’

‘He knew where she was?’

‘Oh, yes. He’d promised the priest who married us that he’d adopt her. Then he didn’t, until she was ten. You know, in spite of everything, he had a way of convincing you . . . he was so strong, and he could suddenly turn all this power and warmth on you and you’d feel so good after being so frightened.

‘I never go to sleep at night without crying for her— not for her death, but for her life, for all those years of being abandoned. I should have found a way, I could have found a way, but I was scared and I wanted to be free—and look how I ended up. I wouldn’t have ended up in
his
hands if I’d tried to keep my baby and, besides. . . .’

‘You loved the father, Daniele. I understand. But no, Signora. Don’t torment yourself. You were very young and you were alone.’

‘And you’re very kind. But I’ve been a coward all my life, and now I’m rich. It doesn’t make any sense.’

‘No.’

‘What happened to all those girls that he . . . ?’

‘Some of them are still with Don Antonino. There’s an amnesty coming up. He’ll help them get papers and jobs. If you want to do something useful in memory of Daniela, instead of tormenting yourself, give Don Antonino some money. Goodness knows, he needs it.’

Her face lit up. It was still difficult to recognize her, so much slimmer, younger-looking and well-dressed.

‘I was sure you’d help me.’

‘You’ll be all right. You have a new life now, a fresh start. And this little boy to love.’

‘You’re a good man. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just say the word.’

‘Well’—Piero was stamping to the door, heels flash-ing—‘ you could rescue my hat.’

‘So, what did you think of it?’

‘Better than the last one. There was so much more light.’

‘Well, but Salva, it was on the top floor so of course there was more light, and it was a beautiful autumn day too. But you have to think about all those stairs. There’s no space for an elevator, you know. It’s the same in all these old Florentine buildings. The stairwells are so tiny, except in the really grand buildings. Think of carrying shopping up there, think of carrying cases of mineral water.’

‘But you keep saying it’s only an investment. We’re not going to live there, we’re just trying to get a foot on the housing ladder. That’s what you said.’

‘Even so, a hundred and ten steps. . . .’

‘All right.’

‘Perhaps we should look at something new, a bit further out of the centre.’

‘All right.’

‘Or in a bigger building where there’s an elevator.’

‘All right.’

‘Salva! For goodness’ sake stop saying All right. It’s no help at all if you don’t give me your opinion. You’re not
still
brooding on that Tyrant of Syracuse thing, are you?’

‘No.’

‘Well, what, then?’

‘I want to watch the news. Something I need to see.’

It was only the local news, and it was squeezed between a protest about the new tramway and the transfer of a Fiorentina player.

The body, what was left of it, had been found by mushroom gatherers. It was fully clothed. A handbag was recovered in a nearby stream. It contained no documents that could identify the woman, judged to be around eighteen to twenty years old, but it did contain a number of carefully posed photographs. One came up on the screen. Dark, pretty curls, a smiling red mouth, and sad, painted eyes. Cristina had made it. She was on television.