‘And his family is involved in local politics.’
Why was she telling him this? Who cared about the magistrate’s family when the only thing that mattered was that he could be such a fool as to believe anything Scarpa told him.
‘His father was mayor of their town for thirty years, and now his older brother is.’
‘How did you learn all of this?’ Brunetti demanded with more force than he should have used.
‘My best friend told me,’ she said, patting the top of the computer screen.
That stopped Brunetti. ‘What else did your friend tell you?’
‘The whole family are Separatists,’ she said. ‘They want to return to being part of Austria.’
‘How does this affect Dottor Gottardi?’
She flicked something invisible from the front of her skirt and said, ‘Every one of them is to the right of the Lega Nord, especially on the subject of immigration. So Gottardi’s chosen to become the family rebel. Everyone’s equal, immigrants and southerners must be treated with respect.’
A soft moan escaped Brunetti as he followed this to the logical conclusion. ‘So he’s got to fall over backwards to show how he treats them with respect? And that means he feels obliged to pay attention to Scarpa because he’s a Sicilian.’
‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration,’ Signorina Elettra suggested.
‘But no less true for that,’ insisted Brunetti. He cast around for a solution, not only because he thought the investigation of the hotels could easily be handled by the uniformed branch – Pucetti was certainly bright enough to do it – but because he refused to become Scarpa’s puppet.
He glanced over and asked if she had a suggestion, and her face showed that she had.
Memory led to inspiration and he said, ‘The false email from the Ministry of Justice?’
She smiled and nodded.
‘Can you prove it was Scarpa?’
‘Perhaps not in any way that would stand up legally, but the original sender was not very well disguised in the mail from Signora Viscardi.’ She said this last with infinite contempt. ‘It can easily be traced back to the Lieutenant.’
A chess player would no doubt have viewed the situation in terms of pawns and rooks being moved about on the board, bestowing advantage here and there. It was now Brunetti’s move, but instead of flirting with two forward and one to the right to take the other knight, he wanted to beat Scarpa’s head in with a stick.
‘What are our options?’ he asked.
She smiled at the plural and gave something that resembled a nod. ‘He’s pushed me beyond options, I’m afraid,’ Signorina Elettra said, sounding not unlike an exasperated kindergarten teacher. The time of soft words had ended. ‘I think I’ll threaten him.’
‘How?’
‘I’ll tell him I’m going to send the email to the actual Assistant of the Minister, who is a friend of mine, and ask her to have the Minister read it.’
‘Is she really a friend?’ Brunetti asked, marvelling at how wide her net was spread.
‘Of course not.’ Then, after a moment, she added, ‘But at least she exists, unlike Eugenia Viscardi.’
‘What will you tell him?’
‘That I’m following the trail of the email to its real source.’ Her smile was very broad and equally cold. But then her face grew more sober and she said, ‘I can’t imagine how he could have been so sloppy.’ Was that disappointment he heard in her voice?
‘He underestimated you,’ Brunetti said, meaning it as a compliment.
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘How insulting.’
Abandoning all thought of mincing words, Brunetti asked, ‘What will you make him do?’
‘Tell Dottor Gottardi that he’s given the subject further thought and he’s seen that he’s been rash, and perhaps it would be wise to continue the investigation into what happened to Manuela.’
‘For what reason?’
‘To avoid the accusation that, by not considering the possibility that she met with foul play, Dottor Gottardi would be discriminating against a handicapped person.’ Brunetti’s mind reeled. ‘I suspect, however, that Dottor Gottardi would call her “differently abled”.’
‘Will this work with Scarpa?’ he asked, filled with a new appreciation of her many talents.
‘To a certain degree,’ she said. ‘He’ll become more cautious, I suppose, though I don’t think it will help him in the long run. The Lieutenant is clever enough, but I think it’s time he realizes just how outclassed he is.’
‘You sound very certain of that,’ Brunetti said.
‘He’s a bully, and like most bullies, he lacks the killer instinct. Once he comes up against someone who isn’t afraid of him, he retreats.’ Then, with absolute conviction, she said, ‘He’ll do what I tell him to do.’
‘And if not?’ Brunetti inquired.
‘I’ll destroy him.’
24