The Girl with the Crystal Eyes by Barbara Baraldi Page A

jumpers. This one's old and you
never wear it, and it's black and you don't wear black…'
        He
comes closer to her as if to hit her. He raises his hand.
        'Do
you want the fucking jumper? Take the fucking thing. I hate it, I hate it, and
I hate you when you're wearing it. But never go in my wardrobe again. I won't
tell you another time.' His hand is still raised, like a threat.
        Viola
can't lift her gaze from the floor.
        He
told her he hated her. She heard him, he really said it: that he hated her like
he hates this shapeless jumper, with its pulled threads and its signs of wear
and tear.
        He
has now turned away from her. He sits down on the sofa and switches on the TV.
        Viola
can't speak.
         As
always happens, her head is throbbing with words, but she isn't able to say
them out loud. They cry out inside her, but her mouth is sealed shut. I miss
you! That's why I go in your wardrobe and search through your T-shirts and
shirts. I'm looking to see if there's a little piece of you left behind, even
among your socks. Then I find something that seems to still have your smell,
and I put it on and it feels like you're here with me.
        It
hurts, that voice in her head; it screams. It screams so much it hurts, but it
doesn't make a sound.
        'What's
for dinner? I'm hungry, and I have to go to work, in case you've forgotten.'
    ----
        

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
        
        'What
have we got here?' asks Marconi, pushing up his collar. Tommasi is standing
opposite him, and a shrug of his shoulders indicates that he doesn't know
anything yet.
        Marconi
has known Tommasi for two years. At the beginning, they worked together and
that was all, like with everyone else: the usual relationship between an
inspector and his junior officer. Then, gradually, he started to notice
Tommasi's skills and character.
        A
very attentive lad, with a burning desire to learn, who always followed a step behind
and was always there, watching his back, like that time when there was a
robbery in the supermarket in Via del Borgo San Pietro.
        Marconi
hadn't spotted the accomplice who was acting as look-out, and was waiting there
in the parked Fiat. And, when the others had escaped in an old VW Golf, he
would have got himself run over if it hadn't been for Tommasi, his shadow, who
had pushed him out of the way just in time.
        They
had looked at each other without saying anything, but from that day on Marconi
had become much more aware of him. He noticed how he had chestnut-coloured
eyes, with hair the same colour, and that he raised his lips on one side when
he smiled.
        At
the police station, the other officers used to call them 'mother goose' and
'baby goose' - not in their hearing of course. If he had overheard them,
Marconi would have been really pissed off, and when he's pissed off everyone
knows it.
        One
of the men from forensics is measuring the distance between the two bodies. The
other bends over with silver-coloured, slightly curved forceps and picks up
something that he then puts into a clear envelope.
        Marconi
takes a step forward. He's known Galliera for years, so knows that there's
nothing to worry about. He doesn't bite.
        'How's
it going?'
        'We're
getting there. What do you want to know, Inspector?'
        'What
can you tell me so far?'
        'So
far, the details are fairly vague, but, as you can see, there were two shots from
a small calibre pistol. One dead instantaneously. The other dragged himself to
the pavement and was finished off by a violent blow with some pointed object.
Perhaps a screwdriver. It went right through one eye and into his skull. I've
just picked up a small, red glass jewel that was lying by the side of the
second victim. Nothing else, so far. Now let me finish off here. I've got a
wife waiting for me at home.'
        Marconi
pretends not to have heard that last