‘Three beds?’ Griffoni asked, reading his mind.
‘We didn’t know to ask, did we?’ Brunetti answered.
‘A short circuit?’
‘It’s what the firemen said,’ Brunetti answered and turned to Signorina Elettra, who was taking silent part in this conversation. He lifted his chin in inquiry.
‘There was nothing else in the papers,’ she said, ‘so it’s likely that was the cause; the insurance investigators don’t seem to have found anything else,’ she went on, then asked, ‘What happened at Villa Flora?’
Brunetti briefly explained their conversation with Bianchi, and then the three of them passed some time in silent consideration of this. Brunetti glanced through the papers again, and Griffoni pulled out one page and read it through. Signorina Elettra kept her attention on the screen, but her eyes did not move along the lines of text.
Finally Brunetti said, ‘Claudia, would you call Signora Segalin and tell her we discovered when we got back to the office that we were also meant to inspect the condition of the residents who occupy the other two beds endowed by GCM Holdings?’
‘What if Bianchi’s told her who we are?’ Claudia asked, setting the papers on the windowsill behind her.
‘I doubt that he would,’ Brunetti answered.
‘One moment,’ Signorina Elettra said, tapped in a few letters, and then read out the phone number of Villa Flora. She picked up her desk phone, dialled, and held the receiver out to Griffoni. Griffoni took the phone and leaned one hip against Signorina Elettra’s desk.
‘Good afternoon, this is Dottoressa Griffoni. I visited earlier with my colleague, Dottor Brunetti. Could I speak to Signora Segalin, please? Yes, thank you.’
She looked up at them and made an arc in the air with her free hand to show that the call was being transferred.
‘Ah, good afternoon, Signora,’ she said, her smile slipping down the line. ‘So good of you to speak to me again … No, nothing really important, but I have to tell you that we’ve all been victims of bureaucratic incompetence … No,’ she said with a small, complicit laugh, ‘I didn’t think you’d be a stranger to it, Signora. Which of us is?
‘It’s about the other beds in the GCM endowment. Yes, precisely. Could you tell me if the other beds are occupied and, if so, by whom?’
A long silence stretched out until Griffoni said, ‘Yes, it’s to complete our files … Ah, I didn’t know that, Signora. When was it cancelled? Ah, of course, of course. But the second one remained?’
Griffoni reached over, pulled a piece of paper towards her and took the pencil Signorina Elettra held out to her. ‘Leonardo Pozzi? Yes, thank you. And how long has he been there? … Oh, really? Ah, the poor man. Does anyone come to …? Yes, I can understand why the staff would … Of course. Of course.’
Griffoni stared at the floor while speaking, intent on saying the right thing and keeping the correct tone. Signora Segalin went on for a long time, and Brunetti imagined her eyes flashing out useless signals to cue her listener to the proper emotional response. Griffoni did not disappoint, umming and ahhing and saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’, both with the special emphasis one uses with a person who wants affirmation, not only of the fact reported but of the emotional weight of that fact.
‘Would it be possible for us to come and speak to him, do you think?’ Griffoni looked across at Brunetti and held up a hand, then shook it in the air a few times, as one does when in possession of important information.
‘Yes, that’s very kind of you. When would be the best time, do you think? You certainly understand these things far better than we do.’ The flattery was blatant, but Brunetti could imagine the flashes of delight from Signora Segalin’s eyes.
‘Fine, then we’ll be there tomorrow morning at eleven. And thank you so much for your efficiency and help.’ Griffoni made a few positive, warm noises and hung up.
She handed the pencil back to Signorina Elettra and pushed away from the desk. She looked over at Brunetti and said, ‘The second bed is still occupied by Leonardo Pozzi. He’s been there a shorter time than Signor Bianchi, but that’s because he was in the hospital longer and was moved to Villa Flora four months later.’
She turned slightly to her right and looked at Signorina Elettra before continuing. ‘Pozzi was injured far more seriously than either of the others,’ she began and lowered her head while she said, ‘He lost both legs.’ Before they could inquire, she said, ‘He was hit by pieces of one of the barrels that exploded and didn’t bleed to death only because … because the wounds were seared closed.’ Here she glanced at both of them, and looked down at the floor again. ‘That was the phrase Signora Segalin used. By whatever was in the barrel.’ She let them think about that for a moment and continued.
‘Signora Segalin said that he has become more isolated as the years pass, and now he seldom speaks to anyone.’ She put her hands together and rubbed at her left wrist, as though she had broken it once and it ached at times.
Brunetti asked, ‘And the third bed?’
‘The money for it was cancelled when the third man injured in the accident didn’t accept the invitation to Villa Flora and chose to remain in a state facility, instead.’
‘Casati?’ Brunetti asked.
‘She didn’t give a name, and I didn’t want to interrupt her to ask.’ She paused a moment and then added, ‘From what you’ve told me about him, it seems likely.’
‘If they’re paying for two beds,’ Griffoni said, ‘then they’ve spent more than four million Euros to keep them there all this time.’
Brunetti heard Griffoni say something under her breath and turned to ask her, ‘What?’
‘Seared,’ she said, told him she’d see them in the morning, and left without saying anything else.
27
The same driver took them back to Villa Flora the next morning, both of them disguising their eagerness to meet Leonardo Pozzi. They spoke of the terrible heat and the comfort of having a car with air conditioning; they spoke of the desiccated crops on either side of the road; they spoke of anything other than the second man at Villa Flora.
Signora Segalin opened the door to them again, today wearing what appeared to be the same suit in dark grey. The flash of her smile was subdued, perhaps in proportion to Signor Pozzi’s greater disability. ‘I’ve told him you’re coming to visit,’ she said as soon as they’d shaken hands.
‘Was he interested?’ Griffoni asked. They had decided that she, having been the one to speak to Signora Segalin the previous evening, should speak for them both.