He continued to the door.
‘Please. Just take one look.’
Sighing loudly, the prosecutor returned and snatched the pad. He read for a moment. ‘And you found evidence linking someone at the, as you say, smoking station with the scene where the victim was attacked. The trace, the detersivo per il bucato — the soap — and the spices.’
So he recognized the ingredients in the detergent. Impressive.
In a firm voice, he said, ‘But that proves nothing. The source for that trace would be the hostess, Natalia. She went to the victim’s aid. And her boyfriend, Dev, is Indian. Explaining the curry.’ The prosecutor’s face softened. He cocked his head as he said to Rhyme, ‘I myself was suspicious of him at first. I took his statement at the school and while doing so I observed that he frequently would look over women students as they passed. His eyes seemed hungry. And he was seen talking to the victim, Frieda, earlier that evening. But every minute of the party he was accounted for. And his DNA did not match that which was inside the victim.’
Rhyme added, ‘And a CCTV at a nearby hotel had malfunctioned.’
‘As they will do.’
‘Yes, you’re right: The evidence at Natalia’s isn’t helpful. But what we discovered at Garry’s is. The footprint at the scene.’
Spiro’s eyes now revealed curiosity. He read. ‘Small man size, or woman’s. And it was a woman who called to report that Garry was seen adulterating Frieda’s wine.’
‘Ercole collected soil from where the perp walked. It’s being analyzed now. By Beatrice. That might be helpful.’ Rhyme added, ‘It might have been the actual rapist. But it might have been someone just wishing to get him into trouble — the woman who called. Garry’s lawyer told us that he was quite the ladies’ man. A player, you know?’
‘I know.’
‘And maybe didn’t treat them the way they would like to have been treated. There’s a woman in Florence who might—’
Spiro said, ‘Valentina Morelli. Yes. I am trying to locate her myself.’
Silence for a moment. Then Spiro’s face took on an expression that said: Against my better judgment. ‘Allora, Capitano Rhyme. I will pursue this aspect of the investigation. And will temporarily put on hold my complaint against you and Forestry Officer Benelli for misuse of police facilities and interference with procedures. Temporarily.’
He took a cheroot from his breast pocket and lifted it to his nose, smelled the dark tube, then replaced it.
‘My reaction to your presence, you might have perceived, was perhaps out of proportion to your, if I may, crime. You came here at great risk to your personal safety — one in your condition cannot have an easy time traveling. There are dangers.’
‘That’s true for everyone.’
He continued without comment, ‘And there is no guarantee that even if the Composer is captured you would be successful in your attempt to extradite him back to America. Remember—’
‘The Wolf Tits Rule.’
‘Indeed. But here you came anyway in pursuit of your quarry.’ He tilted his head. ‘In pursuit of the truth. And I resisted at every turn.’
A pause as Spiro regarded the Composer evidence pads. Slowly he said, ‘There was a reason for my resistance. A personal reason, which is, by its very definition, unacceptable in our endeavors.’
Rhyme said nothing. He was pleased for any chance to continue to pursue the two cases — not to mention pleased to remain out of an Italian prison — so he let the man talk.
The prosecutor said, ‘The answer goes back a long time — to the days of the Second World War, when your country and mine were sworn enemies...’ Spiro’s voice softened. ‘... and yet were not.’
Chapter 43
‘You will not have heard of the Esercito Cobelligerante Italiano.’
‘No,’ Rhyme told Spiro.
‘The Italian Co-Belligerent Army. A complex name for a simple concept. Another fact most Americans do not know: Italy and the Allies were antagonists only at the start of the war. Both sides signed an armistice in nineteen forty-three, ending their hostilities long before Germany fell. True, some fascist soldiers fought on, in league with the Nazis, but our king and prime minister joined with the Americans and British and fought against the Germans. The Co-Belligerent Army was the Italian wing of the Allies.
‘But, as you might guess, war is complicated. War is sciatta. Messy. After September ’forty-three, although the armistice was in full force and we were supposed to be fighting together, many of the American soldiers did not trust the Italians. My grandfather was a brave and decorated infantry commander who was in charge of, you would say, a company of men to assist the US Fifth Army and break through the Bernhardt Line, halfway between Rome and Naples. A very stubborn defense on the part of the Nazis.
‘My grandfather led his men behind the line, near San Pietro. They attacked from the rear and achieved a gorgeous victory, though suffered heavy losses. But when the US troops moved forward, they found my grandfather’s unit behind the lines. They hadn’t heard about his operation. They disarmed the thirty or so survivors of my grandfather’s company and rounded them up. But they did not bother to talk to their headquarters. They didn’t listen to my grandfather’s pleas. And threw them all together in a PoW camp, populated with three hundred Nazis.’ He gave a chill laugh. ‘Do you want to imagine how long the Italians lived, at the hands of their “colleagues”? About ten hours, the story goes. And the report was that most died very unpleasant deaths, my grandfather among them. The Americans merely listened to the screams. When the truth came out, a major with the Fifth Army issued an apology to the six survivors. A major issued the apology. Not a general, not a colonel. A major. He was twenty-eight years old.
‘I will add this: War is not only messy but it has consequences we cannot foresee. Now, my mother was a little girl when her father died in that camp. She barely knew him. But something about his loss affected her mind. This, my grandmother believed, in any case. She was never quite right. She married and gave birth to me and to my brother but began to have episodes just after I was born. They grew worse. Depression then mania, depression then mania. Disrobing in public, sometimes when she had arrived to collect my brother and me from school. Sometimes in church. Screaming. She received treatments, extreme treatments.’
It’s rare that someone knows the raw ingredients of electroconductive gel.
‘Those did nothing more than destroy her short-term memory. The sadness remained.’
‘And her condition now?’
‘She is in a home. My brother and I visit. She sometimes knows us. New medications, they have stabilized her. It is, they say, about the best we can hope for.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it.’
‘Can I blame your country for this, too, in addition to her father’s death? But I have chosen to, and for some very unfair reason that relieves the burden. Allora, that is what I have to say. All I have to say.’
Rhyme nodded, acknowledging the oblique apology, which, he knew, was heartfelt nonetheless.
Spiro slapped his thigh, signaling that the discussion on this topic was at an end. ‘Now, we are agreed that our goal is the truth behind the Garry Soames case. What approach do we take now?’
‘The results of the date-rape drug analysis in Rome should be expedited. We must find out if the samples in his apartment are the same as what was in Frieda’s system.’