‘Would it be possible for me to come out and talk to you?’ Brunetti asked.
‘Yes, of course,’ she answered. ‘But not until Monday. I’m sorry. We have a competition in Desenzano this weekend. It’s lucky you got me because we’re leaving in an hour: we’re taking two horses there.’
‘Then I’d like to come out on Monday,’ Brunetti said.
‘Good. We should be back on Sunday evening, so any time in the afternoon would be all right.’ Brunetti was just about to continue when the woman asked, ‘How is she?’
‘I haven’t spoken to her yet, but her grandmother says she’s peaceful.’ It was the best Brunetti could think of to say.
‘Well, at least that’s something,’ the woman said, sounding not fully convinced. ‘I’ll see you Monday afternoon, then.’ She replaced the phone.
Remembering that Pietro Cavanis had failed to return his call, Brunetti took out his telefonino and found the number again.
The voice that answered on the seventh ring, a man’s, sounded fuzzy with sleep.
‘Signor Cavanis?’ Brunetti asked.
‘I think so,’ the man answered. ‘Tell me what you want, and that will give me time to remember who I am.’
‘I’d like to speak to you about Manuela Lando-Continui.’
‘You police?’ the man asked. ‘You sound it.’
‘Yes, I’m Commissario Guido Brunetti. I’ve been asked to look into the incident near Campo San Boldo.’
‘Yes, the incident,’ Cavanis said, still sounding dull with sleep. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘I’d like to talk to you about what happened.’
‘And if I say I don’t remember?’ Before Brunetti could answer, the man said, ‘Wait a minute.’ Brunetti heard the phone being set down, a rustle of paper, the scratching sound of a match and then a long sigh of satisfaction. There was a fumbling as the phone was picked up. ‘You were saying?’ the man asked.
‘I’d like to speak to you about what happened.’
‘Isn’t fifteen years a long time to take to get around to this?’ the man asked with counterfeit amiability, as if it were a serious question and not a reproach. Brunetti heard a clinking sound, followed by a rushing noise it took him a moment to identify. Ah, the day’s first drink. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard the swallowing noise or only imagined it.
‘Yes, it is a long time, but this is a new investigation. Would it be possible to talk to you?’ Brunetti asked, deciding to ignore the other man’s provocation.
‘Of course. But it will be to no purpose. I told you: I don’t remember anything, and the farther I get from it in time, the less I remember.’ He spoke with great insistence, Brunetti thought.
‘I’d still like to talk to you,’ Brunetti said, using his friendliest voice.
‘I’m not available this weekend. How about Monday?’
‘I’ve got a meeting in the afternoon,’ Brunetti said.
‘Tuesday?’ Cavanis suggested with the ease of a person who did not have to go to work and the rigour of one who did not think of the morning as a suitable time for a meeting.
‘Fine,’ Brunetti said. ‘Tell me where to meet you.’
Cavanis named a bar Brunetti was unfamiliar with, explaining that it was on Rio Marin, a few doors down from the gas office, heading away from the station. He suggested the late afternoon, but Brunetti said it would be more convenient to meet around noon; perhaps he could invite Signor Cavanis to join him for lunch? That seemed to convince the other man, who said he’d be there at twelve, and Brunetti, having heard a glass click against the phone a number of times, repeated that it was on Tuesday that they would meet.
‘If I’m not there, ask the owner of the bar to give you the keys and come across the canal – I’m just opposite the bar – and wake me up, all right? Green door. Second floor. Just come in and give me a few shakes.’ Brunetti, thinking that the invitation to lunch had struck some vein of humour, perhaps even amiability, in Cavanis, said he would. Cavanis replaced the phone without speaking, and that was that.
Because it was Friday afternoon and because he was bored and restless and felt himself growing thick with the anticipation of winter, Brunetti called Lolo and asked if he still had his sàndolo and if it was still in the water. When his friend said he did and it was, Brunetti suggested that they run away from home the next day and go out into the laguna and spend the day rowing.