came to me?’
A few patches of pink appeared on her otherwise wan face. ‘I’ll be honest with you, you know, she did tell me, not to speak badly of the poor girl, because she’s dead, but she also told me a lot of things that took me by surprise.’
‘And what did she tell you she came to me for?’ He continued to stare at her, hardly taking his eyes off her even for a moment.
‘But, doctor, you know.’
‘I want you to tell me what Signorina Marelli told you.’
She was uneasy now. ‘She told me she was supposed to be getting married to the owner of the butcher’s shop, this was something she’d told me before, and she also told me she didn’t like the idea because she was in love with someone else, the man who died with her, but that the butcher was an opportunity for her, and that he wanted her to be a virgin, otherwise he wouldn’t marry her, she wasn’t a virgin and so she’d found a good doctor who would see to everything.’
So he was a good doctor who saw to everything. Hestopped staring at the poor woman and everything inside him smiled. These crooks can do whatever they like, there’s always some crazy woman who blabs, who goes around telling tales. ‘And what can I do for you?’
‘Listen, doctor, if you don’t want to do it, tell me, you know. I already told you, this is quite a delicate matter, even for a woman.’
He broke off listening to her and called, ‘Mascaranti!’ From the hall, where he had been listening religiously, Mascaranti came into the surgery almost softly. ‘Mascaranti, please, show the young lady your ID.’
This was unexpected, it wasn’t logical to let them know that they were with the police, but he obeyed all the same.
‘Have a good look,’ Duca said, ‘we’re with the police. Don’t be afraid.’ But the woman
was
afraid, he had the impression she might even faint.
‘But aren’t you a doctor?’ She was breathing in little gasps, as if the air was lead. ‘The caretaker told me you’re a doctor.’
‘Calm down,’ he yelled to stop her fainting. ‘I am a doctor, or I was a doctor. But right now you have to help the police.’
Alone, between those two men suddenly revealed as policemen, she turned into a child. ‘I have to go back to the shop, it’s late, I’ve left my mother alone, she’s elderly, she can’t cope.’ She got up, holding her handbag clumsily in both hands, her face was green, but it was only the reflection of the spring light coming in through the window.
‘Sit down,’ he ordered.
Perhaps his voice had been louder and harsher than was strictly necessary, but she gave a start, actually jumped. ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she said like a child, ‘yes,’ and she sat down, and at the same time started crying.
The best way to calm someone who is crying is to give them orders. ‘Show me your papers,’ Duca said.
‘Yes, yes,’ she said, crying, and started looking in her handbag. ‘All I have is my driving license, but I have my passport at home.’
Duca looked at the licence for a moment (twenty-nine years old, though she looked older: like many Milanese women who work, she overworked and ended up looking like that) then passed it to Mascaranti. As you have to be gentle with women who are expecting, he gave her a little speech: ‘You mustn’t be afraid, we only want to know something about that girl, you know a lot more than you’ve told us, and you have to tell the police. For example, go on with that story about the nail polish, it interests me, you said she even painted each nail a different colour, but she didn’t go out in the street like that, did she?’
‘No, can you imagine?’ She had stopped crying. ‘It was only for her man.’
‘Her fiancé, the owner of the butcher’s shop?’
‘That’s right,’ she said, starting to become really involved in the subject. ‘She told me about all the things he wanted her to do, except give up her virginity, you know, I realised she wasn’t exactly a virgin,
A few patches of pink appeared on her otherwise wan face. ‘I’ll be honest with you, you know, she did tell me, not to speak badly of the poor girl, because she’s dead, but she also told me a lot of things that took me by surprise.’
‘And what did she tell you she came to me for?’ He continued to stare at her, hardly taking his eyes off her even for a moment.
‘But, doctor, you know.’
‘I want you to tell me what Signorina Marelli told you.’
She was uneasy now. ‘She told me she was supposed to be getting married to the owner of the butcher’s shop, this was something she’d told me before, and she also told me she didn’t like the idea because she was in love with someone else, the man who died with her, but that the butcher was an opportunity for her, and that he wanted her to be a virgin, otherwise he wouldn’t marry her, she wasn’t a virgin and so she’d found a good doctor who would see to everything.’
So he was a good doctor who saw to everything. Hestopped staring at the poor woman and everything inside him smiled. These crooks can do whatever they like, there’s always some crazy woman who blabs, who goes around telling tales. ‘And what can I do for you?’
‘Listen, doctor, if you don’t want to do it, tell me, you know. I already told you, this is quite a delicate matter, even for a woman.’
He broke off listening to her and called, ‘Mascaranti!’ From the hall, where he had been listening religiously, Mascaranti came into the surgery almost softly. ‘Mascaranti, please, show the young lady your ID.’
This was unexpected, it wasn’t logical to let them know that they were with the police, but he obeyed all the same.
‘Have a good look,’ Duca said, ‘we’re with the police. Don’t be afraid.’ But the woman
was
afraid, he had the impression she might even faint.
‘But aren’t you a doctor?’ She was breathing in little gasps, as if the air was lead. ‘The caretaker told me you’re a doctor.’
‘Calm down,’ he yelled to stop her fainting. ‘I am a doctor, or I was a doctor. But right now you have to help the police.’
Alone, between those two men suddenly revealed as policemen, she turned into a child. ‘I have to go back to the shop, it’s late, I’ve left my mother alone, she’s elderly, she can’t cope.’ She got up, holding her handbag clumsily in both hands, her face was green, but it was only the reflection of the spring light coming in through the window.
‘Sit down,’ he ordered.
Perhaps his voice had been louder and harsher than was strictly necessary, but she gave a start, actually jumped. ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she said like a child, ‘yes,’ and she sat down, and at the same time started crying.
The best way to calm someone who is crying is to give them orders. ‘Show me your papers,’ Duca said.
‘Yes, yes,’ she said, crying, and started looking in her handbag. ‘All I have is my driving license, but I have my passport at home.’
Duca looked at the licence for a moment (twenty-nine years old, though she looked older: like many Milanese women who work, she overworked and ended up looking like that) then passed it to Mascaranti. As you have to be gentle with women who are expecting, he gave her a little speech: ‘You mustn’t be afraid, we only want to know something about that girl, you know a lot more than you’ve told us, and you have to tell the police. For example, go on with that story about the nail polish, it interests me, you said she even painted each nail a different colour, but she didn’t go out in the street like that, did she?’
‘No, can you imagine?’ She had stopped crying. ‘It was only for her man.’
‘Her fiancé, the owner of the butcher’s shop?’
‘That’s right,’ she said, starting to become really involved in the subject. ‘She told me about all the things he wanted her to do, except give up her virginity, you know, I realised she wasn’t exactly a virgin,
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