She looked up, eyes brightening, a cavalry horse who had just heard the trumpets sound the charge. 'Exactly.' But if he expected her to expand upon this, or make the comparison between the two cases, he was disappointed.

She looked significantly at Patta's door. 'He's waiting for you.'

'Any idea?'

'None,' she said.

Brunetti had a sudden vision of a painting he'd seen reproduced in his fifth grade history book, of a Roman gladiator turning to salute the Emperor before turning to join in battle with an enemy who had both a larger sword and a ten kilo edge. 'Ave atque vale,' 'Ave atque vale,' he said, smiling. he said, smiling.

'Morituri te salutant,' she responded, as casually as if she were reading out the times on a train schedule. she responded, as casually as if she were reading out the times on a train schedule.

Inside, the Latinate theme continued, with Patta poised in profile and showing off his truly imperial nose. When he turned to face Brunetti, the imperial evaporated and was replaced by something faintly porcine, caused by the tendency of Patta's dark brown eyes to sink ever deeper into the eternally tanned flesh of his face.

'You wanted to see me, Vice-Questore?' Brunetti asked in a neutral voice.

'Are you out of your mind, Brunetti?' Patta asked with no introduction.

'Should I learn that something is troubling my wife and fail to do anything about it, I surely would be,' he said, but only to himself. To Patta he answered, instead, 'About what particular subject, sir?'

'About these recommendations for promotion and commendation,' Patta said, bringing his outspread palm down heavily on a folder that lay closed in front of him. 'I've never seen a worse case of prejudice and favouritism in my life.'

As Patta was a Sicilian, he must have seen more than his fair share of both, Brunetti reflected, but said only, 'I'm not sure I understand, sir.'

'Of course you understand. You've recommended only Venetians: Vianello, Pucetti, and what's his name?' he said, looking down and pulling back the covers of the folder. He ran his eyes down the first page, flipped it over, and started to read the second. Suddenly he stabbed at the page with a blunt forefinger. 'Here. Bonsuan.

How can we promote a boat pilot, for G.o.d's sake?'

'The way we'd promote any other officer, I believe, by raising him one grade and giving him the higher salary that goes with it'

'For what?' Patta asked rhetorically and looked down at the page again. "Tor conspicuous bravery in the pursuit of a fleeing criminal'',he read with the emphasis of sarcasm. 'You want to promote him because he chased after someone in his boat?' Patta paused and when Brunetti failed to answer, he added, sarcasm even more p.r.o.nounced, 'And they didn't even catch the men they were chasing, did they?'

Brunetti paused a few seconds before he answered, and when he did, his voice was as calm as Patta's had not been. 'No, sir, not because Bonsuan chased after someone in his boat. But because he stopped the boat while he was under fire from the men in the other boat and went into the water to rescue another officer who had been shot and had fallen into the water.'

'It wasn't a serious wound,' Patta said.

I'm not sure Officer Bonsuan paused to reflect upon that, sir, when he saw the other man in the water.'

'Well, it's impossible. We can't promote someone who is only a pilot.' Brunetti said nothing.

'As to Vianello, perhaps we can allow that,' Patta conceded with a singular lack of enthusiasm. Vianello had been in Standa early one Sat.u.r.day afternoon when a man armed with a knife came in, waved the cashier away from her place, and began to pull money from the cash register nearest the door. The sergeant who had gone into the store to buy a pair of sungla.s.ses, ducked down behind the counter and, when the man made towards the door, tackled him, disarmed him, and arrested him.

'And don't even talk about Pucetti,' Patta said angrily. Six weeks ago, Pucetti, a dedicated cyclist, had been in the mountains north of Vicenza when he'd almost been run off the road by a car driven by what turned out to be a drunken man. A few minutes later, he'd come upon the same car, crashed into a tree at the side of the road and already in flames. He'd dragged the driver from the car, burning his hands seriously in the process. 'It happened out of our jurisdiction, so there can be no thought of a commendation,' Patta added by way of clarification.

He flipped the folder to the side and looked up at Brunetti. 'But that's not why I want to see you, Brunetti,' he said.

If it was his other recommendations that Patta had been reading, then Brunetti knew what was coming.

'You've not only failed to recommend Lieutenant Scarpa for promotion, but you've suggested that he be transferred,' Patta said, barely containing his rage. Patta had brought the Lieutenant with him when he was transferred to Venice some years before; since then, the Lieutenant had served as the Vice-Questore's a.s.sistant, and spy.

"That's correct.'

'I can't allow that.'

'Can't allow what, Vice-Questore? That the Lieutenant be transferred or that I suggest it?' 'Either. Both'

Brunetti remained silent waiting to see how far Patta would go in defence of his creature.

'You know that I have the authority to refuse to pa.s.s on these recommendations?' Patta asked and then added, 'all of them'

'Yes, I know that'

Then, before I make my own recommendations to the Questore, I suggest you retract the remarks you've made about the lieutenant' When Brunetti said nothing, Patta asked, 'Did you hear me, Commissario?'

'Yes.'

'And?'

'There is little that will make me change my opinion of the Lieutenant and nothing that will make me change my recommendation.'

'You know nothing will come of your recommendation, don't you?' Patta asked, pushing the folder to the side, freeing himself from the risk of contamination.

'But it will be in his file,' Brunetti said, even though he knew how easily things could be made to disappear from files.

'I don't see what purpose that will serve'

'I like history. I like things to be recorded'

'So far as Lieutenant Scarpa is concerned, the only thing to be recorded is that he is an excellent officer and a man worthy of my trust'

'Then perhaps you can record that, sir, and I'll record my own judgement. And then, as always happens when history is read, future readers will determine which of us was correct.'

'I don't know what you're talking about, Brunetti, about future readers of history or things needing to be recorded. What we need is mutual support and trust'

Brunetti said nothing to this, not wanting to encourage Patta in his usual plat.i.tudes about the pursuit of justice and the enforcement of the law, which two things Patta saw as identical. The Vice-Questore, however, needed no encouragement and devoted a few minutes to this particular theme, while Brunetti wondered what questions to ask of Maurizio Lorenzoni. Regardless of the outcome of the autopsy, he wanted to continue to take a closer look at the kidnapping; the nephew, the golden boy of the family, seemed a good place to try next.

Patta's raised voice cut into his reverie. 'If I'm boring you, Dottor Brunetti, just tell me and you can leave.'

Brunetti got suddenly to his feet, smiled but did not speak, and left Patta's office.

10.

When he got back to his office, the first thing Brunetti did was open his window and spend a moment looking down at the place where Bonsuan's boat was usually moored, and only after that did he go to his desk and open the autopsy report. Over the years, he had become accustomed to the idiosyncratic style of these reports. The terminology was all medical, naming bones, organs, and pieces of connecting tissue; the grammar was almost exclusively subjunctive and conditional: If we were dealing with the body of a person in good health', 'Had the body not been moved'. If I were asked to give an estimate.'

Young, male, probably in his early twenties, evidence of orthodontal work. Estimated height 180 centimetres, weight probably not more than sixty kilos. The cause of death was most likely a bullet to the brain: attached was a photo of the hole in the skull, its lethal roundness in no way diminished by its smallness. A scratch on the inner surface of the left eye socket might have been left by the exit of the bullet.

Here Brunetti paused and reflected upon the eternal caution of pathologists. A person could be found with a dagger through the heart, and the report would read, 'The cause of death appears to be...' He regretted that someone other than Ettore Rizzardi, the medico legale medico legale of Venice, had done the autopsy: after years of working with him, Brunetti could usually get Rizzardi to commit himself beyond the bland, speculative language of the reports he wrote, had once or twice even lured the pathologist into speculating on the possibility that the cause of death might be different from that suggested by the autopsy. of Venice, had done the autopsy: after years of working with him, Brunetti could usually get Rizzardi to commit himself beyond the bland, speculative language of the reports he wrote, had once or twice even lured the pathologist into speculating on the possibility that the cause of death might be different from that suggested by the autopsy.

Because the tractor had disturbed some bones and broken others, there was no way of determining whether the ring that was found with the body had been worn by the deceased. The first officers on the scene had found it but had not marked its exact location before giving it to the medico legale, medico legale, so it was impossible to tell where it had lain in relation to the body, which had itself been further disturbed by their arrival. so it was impossible to tell where it had lain in relation to the body, which had itself been further disturbed by their arrival.

As well as a pair of black leather shoes, size 42, and dark cotton socks, the man had been wearing only blue wool slacks and a white cotton shirt when he was buried. Brunetti recalled the police report which stated that Lorenzoni had been wearing a blue suit when he disappeared. Because there had been heavy rains in the province of Belluno the previous autumn and winter and because the field lay at the base of two hills and hence tended to retain water, the decomposition of both fabric and flesh had been faster than normal.

Toxicological examinations were being performed on the organs and would be ready within a week, as would the results of some further tests that were to be performed on the bones. Though the fragments of lung tissue were too badly deteriorated to make the conclusion reliable, there was evidence he had been a heavy smoker. Brunetti thought of what Roberto's girlfriend had said, and despaired of the usefulness of autopsies. A complete set of dental X-rays were contained in a transparent plastic folder.

'The dentist, then,' Brunetti said aloud and reached for the phone. While he waited for an outside line, he flipped open his copy of the Lorenzoni file and found Count Ludovico's phone number.

'p.r.o.nto' a male voice answered on the third ring. a male voice answered on the third ring.

'Conte Lorenzoni?' Brunetti asked.

'Signor Lorenzoni,' the voice corrected, giving no indication of whether this was the nephew or the Count a.s.serting solidarity with democracy.

'Signor Maurizio Lorenzoni?' Brunetti asked.

'Yes.' Nothing more.

'This is Commissario Guido Brunetti. I'd like to speak to you or your uncle, if possible, sometime this afternoon.'

'What is this in relation to, Commissario?'

'Roberto, your cousin Roberto.'

After a long pause, he asked, Have you found him?'

'A body has been found in the province of Belluno.' 'Belluno?' 'Yes'

Is it Roberto?'

1 don't know, Signor Lorenzoni. It could be: if s the body of a young man about twenty, about 180 centimetres tall...'

'That description would fit half the young men in Italy,' Lorenzoni said: 'A ring with the Lorenzoni crest was found with him'Brunetti added.

'What?'

'A signet ring with the family crest was found with him.'

'Who identified it?'

'The medico legale' medico legale'

'Is he sure?'Lorenzoni asked.

'Yes. Unless the crest has been changed recently' Brunetti added in a level voice.

Lorenzoni's question came after another long pause.'Where was this?'

'In a place called Col di Cugnan, not far from Belluno.'

The next pause was longer. Then Lorenzoni asked, in a far softer voice, 'Can we see him?'

Had the voice not softened, Brunetti would have answered that there wasn't much to see; instead, he said, 'I'm afraid the identification will have to be done by other means.', 'What does that mean?'

"The body that was found has been in the ground for some time, and so there has been considerable decomposition.'

'Decomposition?'

It would help us if we could get in touch with his dentist. There's evidence that there was considerable orthodontal work.'

'Oh Dio' the young man whispered, and then said, 'Roberto wore braces for years.' the young man whispered, and then said, 'Roberto wore braces for years.'

'Can you give me the name of the dentist?'

'Francesco Urbani. His office is in Campo San Stefano. He's the same dentist we all go to.'

Brunetti made a note of the name and address. 'Thank you, Signor Lorenzoni.'

'When will you know? Should I tell my uncle?' And after a pause, he added, but it wasn't a question, 'And my aunt.'

Brunetti picked up the white-bordered dental X-rays. He could send Vianello to Doctor Urbani with them this afternoon. 1 should be able to give you some information today. I'd like to speak to your uncle, and your aunt, if that's possible. This evening?'

'Yes, yes,' he answered distractedly. 'Commissario, is there a chance that this isn't Roberto?'

That chance, if it ever existed, seemed to be growing smaller with each added piece of information. 'I don't think if s very likely, but you might want to wait until we've spoken to the dentist before you tell your uncle.'

'I don't know how I can tell him,' Lorenzoni said. 'And my aunt, my aunt.'

Whatever the dentist said would only confirm what Brunetti's instincts knew was true. He decided he would speak to the Lorenzonis, all of them, and do it soon. 'I'll come and speak to them if you'd like me to.'

'Yes, I think that's better. But what if the dentist says it isn't Roberto?'

'In that case, I'll call you and tell you. At this number?'

'No, let me give you the number of my cellular,' he answered. Brunetti made a note.

'I'll be there at seven,' Brunetti said, intentionally omitting any qualification about what he'd do if the dental records didn't match.

'Yes, at seven,' Lorenzoni said and hung up without bothering to give the address or instructions about how to get there. Presumably, in Venice the name would suffice.