The young man made the reluctant ones think again and punished the rebels. Apart from that, he had the task of taking the girls to their various places of employment.
‘The Minox photographs had two purposes,’ he continued, looking everywhere as he talked except at the white bandages concealing her face. ‘One was to compile a kind of catalogue of rare editions, so to speak, which circulated all over Europe, constantly updated, among connoisseurs and people in the trade. The other was to blackmail the women who had been photographed. Most of the reluctant ones yielded when they were threatened with the photographs being shown to their fathers, their boyfriends, their workmates. With Alberta it was different, she did more than just rebel, she actually took the Minox film after it was exposed.’
That had been serious, he told her, continuing to keep his hand open on the bed, with her hand on his, ready to press his fingers, to respond, to ask. It had probably never happened before that anyone had stolen a roll of film. The whole elegance of the mechanism was based on the secrecy of those films, and in order to maintain that secrecy photographic studios that seemed above board had been set up in the cities. The photographer shot models of cars, tractors, and tankers for serious companies against a landscape background, publicity photographs and industrial photographs that wouldn’t arouse the suspicion of the police. Doing the photographs in a private house might have been dangerous, with different girls coming and going constantly, they needed a name plate with Something-or-other Photographic written on it, and in fact the system had been functioning perfectly for nearly two years all over Europe on this side of the curtain, because on the other side they were organised differently, and now here was Alberta taking that Minox cartridge, risking the whole system crashing down because even the most stolid of police officers would realise what a roll of film like that was as soon as he saw it.
‘That was when the man you met today went into action. He couldn’t scare Alberta and she managed to get away, so he got hold of the other girl, Maurilia, and threatened to kill her if Alberta didn’t hand over the cartridge.’ It was quite dark in the room, even darker now because the sun, even though it was not setting yet, had become only a dusty source of heat more than of light, but it was a merciful darkness because this way even though he was looking at the bed, the deep shadows were hiding the details of her bandaged face and gradually even the very shape of her face.
Alberta had then realised-he explained lucidly, without anything anxious in his voice-that even if she handed over the cartridge, they would kill her poor friend and then her, and in fact she was right, because Maurilia had already been taken to Rome and drowned and they were only waiting for the moment to get her, too.
Alberta had had a shock, suddenly she realised what a pit of vice and violence she had fallen into. She was an inflexible woman, even with herself: she would hand over the cartridge to the police and tell them everything, then kill herself. That was why she had that letter for her sister in her handbag. Before killing herself, though, she had to get her sister the fifty thousand lire to pay the expenses on her rented apartment-she was inflexible even in small things-and she got it for her in the only way she could at that moment, by looking for a man. And she found Davide.
She knew she was being followed and was in danger, but she still mingled with people and when Davide agreed to give her a lift she felt safer. But then Davide’s company brought on a crisis in her, she felt weak, she wanted to live, it struck her that if she could get away, a long way away, things would be different, but Davide had no idea of the reasons for this crisis and at the end of the autostrada he had made her get out. And that man was there, in his Mercedes 230.
‘You can imagine what happened. The man asked her for the cartridge, but she’d left it in Davide’s car, she hadn’t even realised and had no idea why she didn’t have it. He didn’t believe her, he searched in her handbag, found the letter addressed to her sister, the devil was offering him the perfect opportunity. He overpowered her, made his incisions, and left her in that field.’ He was a practical man when it came to using a knife. ‘And he also took forty thousand of the fifty thousand lire that Davide had given Alberta, he’s not the kind of man who can look indifferently at a bunch of ten-thousand-lire notes.’ Even though the police were still investigating those two not very convincing suicides, they wouldn’t get anywhere without the Minox film. But the cartridge, together with a little handkerchief once soaked in tears, had been in Davide’s suitcase for a whole year as he descended into psychosis and alcoholism.
Now he had to continue speaking because with every pause he made she pressed with her fingers on the palm of his hand. And luckily it was almost impossible to see anything now, and luckily again the nurse came in and said, ‘Are you Dr. Lamberti?’
He said yes, he was, although it was a heavy burden being Duca Lamberti at that moment.
‘There are two people here who want to speak to you.’
He squeezed Livia’s hand. ‘I’ll only be gone a moment, Livia, I’ll be right back.’ She pressed his palm, to tell him he could go.
In the corridor stood Davide and his father, still little, still an emperor, still supremely self-confident.
‘I’m sorry Davide made you come here, it wasn’t so urgent.’
‘Don’t bother to stand on ceremony, Davide told me you wanted to see me immediately.’
All right, Caesar, don’t get angry. ‘Before anything I wanted to hand your son back to you.’ A nun passing in the corridor recognised Duca and smiled. ‘He’s never been an alcoholic and will never be one. And he’s not a big lump either, as you told me.’
The little man looked at Davide. ‘I hope the doctor’s diagnosis is correct.’
‘Completely correct. Also, I need a favour.’ He asked him if, in a few weeks’ time, he could bring a girl who had been disfigured in an accident to his villa near Inverigo, where she would be able to stay in seclusion until she was a little better.
‘Davide told me it wasn’t a car accident,’ Caesar said, with dismay. ‘Horrendous. I’ll do everything I can to help you and the girl. The villa is at your disposal as of now.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Can I come in, just for a moment?’ Davide ventured.
His tone was imploring, but Duca shook his head, it was better not. ‘Maybe tomorrow. But now you can do me a favour, too. Go and see my sister, she hasn’t heard from me in a while. Tell her a few things, and if you don’t have any other commitments, keep her company.’ Lorenza lived alone too much, he had to sort things out for her in some way. He also had to sort things out for himself.
He said goodbye to the two Auseris, went back into the room, and said, ‘It’s me.’ He sat down next to the bed, put his hand on the bed with the palm open, next to hers, and she immediately put her fingers on it and pressed. She wanted him to talk. His brain was seething, but he had to find something that Little Miss General Topics would like. Euthanasia, there it was, he had never talked to her about it, and yet she was an admirer of his, this was the moment to make her happy.
‘Three years ago, when I was sentenced …’ he began. He would explain the whole theory of euthanasia, and she would be happy, even in that hospital room, even disfigured and bandaged, because there were things in life that mattered more to her than the scars, there was thought with a capital T, there were theories, there was justice, and so on … ‘The thing about euthanasia …’ and he squeezed her fingers tenderly.