.'
'You went up there on the night she was killed.'
'I didn't see anything, anything at all!'
'You went up there and either you saw what happened or you killed her yourself.'
'No! No, no!'
'Because if someone else did it and you were at your post you had to have seen that somebody not only coming into the hotel but going out with the body.'
'I didn't see anything, I didn't see anything!'
'Everybody lies. You just told me that, didn't you?'
'Yes. But I'm not lying. I didn't see anything. I swear that's the truth, whatever else . . .'
'Whatever else?'
'It's the truth.'
'If you didn't do it, what are you so afraid of? What were you looking for in her room tonight?'
'Nothing.'
'And last time? Were you looking for nothing then, too? It was you who searched the room the other time, wasn't it?'
'I don't ... I can't remember.'
'What were you looking for tonight?'
'Nothing. I swear it's the truth.'
'I'm going to take that room apart until I find what you were after. If it's there, I'll find it. That can only make things worse for you.'
'I can't help it. I'm telling the truth. I wasn't looking for anything.'
'And you didn't see anything. Who came to see Hilde Vogel the night she died—somebody you know?'
'No.'
'Somebody you don't know? A boy or a man? Which?'
'I didn't see anything! How can I tell you what I didn't see?'
The Captain slammed his hand down on the warrant. 'Do you know what you're doing? If you swear nobody came to see her that night you're leaving yourself as the only suspect!'
'Nobody can prove I killed her when I didn't.'
'No. Nobody could prove you attacked that woman in Milan if you didn't. Did that prevent you losing your job?'
'No.' He was trembling now and his lips were dry and caked.
The Captain rang a bell. 'Bring some water and two glasses.'
As soon as Querci had drunk a little of the water he went on with the questioning even though he had little hope of getting anywhere. If the porter had invented some story, any story, it would have been easy to break him down, but he invented nothing. He went on saying 'I don't know,' 'I don't remember,' 'I didn't see anything.'
After repeating himself and hearing the same answers for a further hour, the Captain decided that a night in the cells might have more effect. Before they took Querci away he asked him, 'Do you want to telephone your wife?'
'Am I under arrest?'
'Yes.'
Querci's face became even more pallid as though he might vomit or even faint, and he wouldn't have been the first to have done so in those circumstances. But all he said was, 'No. She won't be expecting me home until morning, anyway. What's the use of waking her?'
'Take him away.'
The Captain went back to the window and rubbed wearily at his face. It was after three in the morning and the street was silent now in the yellow lamplight. Under one of the lamps a man was hovering, hands deep in his pockets, staring up at the window.
'For God's sake . . .!' He turned and picked up the telephone. 'If that's Galli down there, don't let him come up. Tell him to come back tomorrow.'
'I've already told him, sir.'
'Well, he's still out there. Tell him again. I'm going to bed.'
It wasn't that Guarnaccia ever had much to say for himself but this morning he was singularly silent. He sat beside the Captain in the back of the car with his hands planted on his knees, staring ahead behind his dark glasses. Once they were past the village of Greve he leaned forward slightly every so often to tell the driver which way to turn.
All the way up from Florence the Captain had tried to draw him out on the Mario Querci business but all he said was, 'Have you arrested him?'
'I had no choice.'
'He's not likely to come out with anything to the Substitute Prosecutor this morning?'
'I'm sure he won't.'
After which he had offered nothing more than noncommittal monosyllables and grunts. He seemed satisfied that they were going out to the villa but that was all.
'Left here.'
The car turned on
'You went up there on the night she was killed.'
'I didn't see anything, anything at all!'
'You went up there and either you saw what happened or you killed her yourself.'
'No! No, no!'
'Because if someone else did it and you were at your post you had to have seen that somebody not only coming into the hotel but going out with the body.'
'I didn't see anything, I didn't see anything!'
'Everybody lies. You just told me that, didn't you?'
'Yes. But I'm not lying. I didn't see anything. I swear that's the truth, whatever else . . .'
'Whatever else?'
'It's the truth.'
'If you didn't do it, what are you so afraid of? What were you looking for in her room tonight?'
'Nothing.'
'And last time? Were you looking for nothing then, too? It was you who searched the room the other time, wasn't it?'
'I don't ... I can't remember.'
'What were you looking for tonight?'
'Nothing. I swear it's the truth.'
'I'm going to take that room apart until I find what you were after. If it's there, I'll find it. That can only make things worse for you.'
'I can't help it. I'm telling the truth. I wasn't looking for anything.'
'And you didn't see anything. Who came to see Hilde Vogel the night she died—somebody you know?'
'No.'
'Somebody you don't know? A boy or a man? Which?'
'I didn't see anything! How can I tell you what I didn't see?'
The Captain slammed his hand down on the warrant. 'Do you know what you're doing? If you swear nobody came to see her that night you're leaving yourself as the only suspect!'
'Nobody can prove I killed her when I didn't.'
'No. Nobody could prove you attacked that woman in Milan if you didn't. Did that prevent you losing your job?'
'No.' He was trembling now and his lips were dry and caked.
The Captain rang a bell. 'Bring some water and two glasses.'
As soon as Querci had drunk a little of the water he went on with the questioning even though he had little hope of getting anywhere. If the porter had invented some story, any story, it would have been easy to break him down, but he invented nothing. He went on saying 'I don't know,' 'I don't remember,' 'I didn't see anything.'
After repeating himself and hearing the same answers for a further hour, the Captain decided that a night in the cells might have more effect. Before they took Querci away he asked him, 'Do you want to telephone your wife?'
'Am I under arrest?'
'Yes.'
Querci's face became even more pallid as though he might vomit or even faint, and he wouldn't have been the first to have done so in those circumstances. But all he said was, 'No. She won't be expecting me home until morning, anyway. What's the use of waking her?'
'Take him away.'
The Captain went back to the window and rubbed wearily at his face. It was after three in the morning and the street was silent now in the yellow lamplight. Under one of the lamps a man was hovering, hands deep in his pockets, staring up at the window.
'For God's sake . . .!' He turned and picked up the telephone. 'If that's Galli down there, don't let him come up. Tell him to come back tomorrow.'
'I've already told him, sir.'
'Well, he's still out there. Tell him again. I'm going to bed.'
It wasn't that Guarnaccia ever had much to say for himself but this morning he was singularly silent. He sat beside the Captain in the back of the car with his hands planted on his knees, staring ahead behind his dark glasses. Once they were past the village of Greve he leaned forward slightly every so often to tell the driver which way to turn.
All the way up from Florence the Captain had tried to draw him out on the Mario Querci business but all he said was, 'Have you arrested him?'
'I had no choice.'
'He's not likely to come out with anything to the Substitute Prosecutor this morning?'
'I'm sure he won't.'
After which he had offered nothing more than noncommittal monosyllables and grunts. He seemed satisfied that they were going out to the villa but that was all.
'Left here.'
The car turned on
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