‘By that do you mean someone who works primarily in business law or someone who has a reputation as high as your own?’
Zambino smiled here, and Brunetti warmed to it and to the man.
‘That’s very gracefully put, Commissario. You give me little chance but to sing my own praises.’ When he saw Brunetti’s answering smile, he continued, ‘I’ve no idea, as I said. I might have been recommended to him by someone he knew. For all I know, he might have picked my name at random out of the phone book.’ Before Brunetti could say it, Zambino added, ‘Though I hardly think Dottor Mitri was the sort of man to make a decision that way.’
‘Did you spend enough time with him to form an opinion about what sort of man he was, Awocato?’
Zambino considered this for a long time. Finally he answered, ‘I got the impression that he was a very sharp businessman and that he was very interested in success.’
‘Did you find it surprising that he would so easily abandon the case against my wife?’ When Zambino did not answer this immediately, Brunetti continued, ‘That is, there’s no chance a decision would have gone against him. She admitted her responsibility,’ – both men noticed that Brunetti did not use the word ‘guilt’ – ‘she said as much to the arresting officer, so he could have claimed virtually any sum he wanted against her – for slander, or suffering, for whatever he chose to claim – and he would probably have won the case.’
‘And yet he chose not to,’ Zambino said.
‘Why do you think that was?’
‘It could have been that he had no desire for revenge.’
‘Is that what you thought?’
Zambino considered this question. ‘No, in fact, I think he would have enjoyed revenge a great deal. He was very, very angry at what happened.’ Before Brunetti could say anything, he went on, ‘And he was angry not only at your wife but at the manager of the travel agency because he had given him quite specific instructions that he was to avoid that sort of tourism at all costs.’
‘Sex-tourism?’
‘Yes. He showed me a copy of a letter and contract he’d sent to Signor Dorandi three years ago, telling him quite plainly that he was not to engage in anything of that kind, or he’d cancel his lease and take back the licence. I’m not sure how legally binding the contract would have been had Dorandi contested it – I didn’t draw it up – but I think it shows that Mitri was serious.’
‘Did he do this for moral reasons, do you think?’
Zambino’s answer was long in coming, as if he had to consider his legal obligations to a client who was now dead. ‘No. I think he did it because he realized it would be a bad business move. In a city like Venice, publicity like that could be devastating for a travel agency. No, I don’t think he considered morality an issue; it was entirely a business decision.’
‘Do you, Avvocato, consider it a moral issue?’
‘Yes,’ said the lawyer shortly and with no need to think before he gave his answer.
Leaving that subject, Brunetti asked, ‘Have you any idea what his intentions were regarding Dorandi?’
‘I know he wrote a letter, reminding him about the contract and asking him to explain the sort of tours your wife protested against.’
‘Did he send this letter?’
‘He faxed Signor Dorandi a copy and sent another by registered mail.’
Brunetti thought about this. If Paola’s ideals were going to be considered a valid reason for murder, then the loss of the lease on a very lucrative business was just as good. ‘I’m still puzzled by the fact that he hired you, Avvocato.’
‘People do strange things, Commissario.’ The lawyer smiled. ‘Especially when they are forced to deal with the law.’
‘Businessmen seldom do expensive things, if you will excuse my vulgarity, unnecessarily.’ And before Zambino could take exception to that, Brunetti added, ‘Because it hardly seems a case where a lawyer would be necessary at all. He merely had to make his conditions known to the Vice-Questore, either with a phone call or a letter. No one opposed those conditions. Yet he hired a lawyer.’
‘At considerable expense, I will add,’ Zambino offered.
‘Exactly. Do you understand it?’
Zambino leaned back in his chair and latched his hands behind his head. In so doing he exposed a considerable breadth of stomach. ‘I think it was what the Americans call “overkill”.’ Still looking at the ceiling, he continued, ‘I think he wanted there to be no question that his demands be met, that your wife accept his conditions and the thing be ended there.’
‘Ended?’
‘Yes.’ The lawyer brought his body forward, rested his arms on the desk and said, ‘I had a very strong sense that he wanted this episode to cause him absolutely no trouble and no publicity whatsoever. Perhaps the second was even more important than the first. At one point I asked him what he was prepared to do if your wife, who seemed to be acting out of principle, refused to pay the damages; whether he would then consider initiating a civil case. He said no. He was quite insistent on this. I told him there would be no chance of his losing this case, but he still said he wouldn’t do it, or even consider it.’
‘So if my wife had refused to pay, he would not have taken any legal steps against her?’
‘Precisely.’
‘You tell me this, knowing that she could still change her mind and refuse to pay?’
Zambino, for the first time, looked surprised. ‘Of course.’
‘Even knowing that I could tell her what Mitri had decided and thus influence her decision?’
Zambino smiled again. ‘Commissario, I imagine you spent a good deal of time before you came here in finding out all you could about me and about my reputation in the city.’ Before Brunetti could admit or deny this, the lawyer went on, ‘I did the same thing, as any of us would. And what I learned suggests to me that I am entirely safe in telling you this and that there is no danger of any kind that you would tell your wife or, because of this information, attempt to influence her decision in any way.’
Embarrassment prevented Brunetti from acknowledging the truth of this. He merely nodded and went on to inquire, ‘Did you ever ask him why it was so important to avoid bad publicity?’
Zambino shook his head. ‘It interested me, I’ll admit, but it wasn’t part of my responsibility to discover that. There was no way it could be of use to me as his lawyer and that’s what he hired me to be.’
‘But did you speculate on it?’ Brunetti wondered.
Again that smile. ‘Of course I speculated, Commissario. It seemed so out of keeping with the man as I understood him to be: wealthy, well-connected, if you will, powerful. Such men can usually get anything at all hushed up, no matter how bad. And this was hardly his responsibility, was it?’
Brunetti shook his head in negative agreement and waited for the lawyer to continue.
‘So that meant either that he had a sensibility or sense of ethics which viewed the agency’s involvement as wrong – and I’d already excluded that possibility – or there was some reason, personal or business, why he wanted or needed to avoid any sort of bad publicity or the scrutiny it would cause.’
This had been Brunetti’s conclusion, and he was glad to have it confirmed by someone who had known Mitri. ‘And did you speculate on what that might be?’ he asked.
This time Zambino laughed outright, now caught up in the game and enjoying it. ‘If we lived in a different century, I’d say he was afraid for his good name. But since that is now a commodity anyone at all can buy on the open market, I’d say it was because that scrutiny might bring to light something he didn’t want examined.’