‘Sit!’ Caesario mumbles through his chins while he finishes writing.
There’s a knock on the door behind Valentina.
‘Enter!’
Even before Valentina turns her head, she knows who it is.
Lieutenant Federico Assante walks noisily across the wood. Without speaking, he takes the chair at the end of the desk. The one nearest Caesario.
The major downs his pen. He clasps his hands and looks up at them both. His face bears the expression of a disappointed father who’s gathered his wayward children for a scolding. ‘Captain Morassi – it’s been brought to my attention that you have without authorisation involved a civilian in a major criminal investigation and as a consequence probably compromised our enquiries.’
Valentina gazes blankly at her superior officer. ‘I don’t believe anything has been compromised, sir. With respect, the civilian’s involvement advanced our enquiries rather than compromised them.’
Caesario sighs and leans back in his big leather chair. ‘How so?’
Valentina shoots Federico a withering look. ‘The man you are referring to is Tom Shaman. He worked with me on the serial murder case in Venice that you know of and he proved invaluable to our units there. If you wish, I’m sure Major Vito Carvalho will vouch for his integrity. My-’
‘ Ex- Major Carvalho,’ interjects Caesario, ‘and to be honest, I don’t wish. Captain, I didn’t ask you for a character reference, I asked you to substantiate your claim that this man advanced our enquiries.’
‘Sir, Tom discovered the body. He happened to be with me when I visited the Ponte Fabricio with Louisa Verdetti, the clinical director of the Policlinico Umberto.’
‘Stop!’ Caesario raises his hand like a traffic cop. ‘Let me back up here. Lieutenant Assante, were you not the first officer I sent to the original crime scene in Cosmedin?’
‘Yes, sir. I was, sir.’
‘And as a local officer with local knowledge, did I not give you an express command to keep me fully briefed until this matter was cleared up?’
‘Yes, sir, you did, sir.’
‘Good. I’m glad we’re clear about that. So how is it, Lieutenant, that until this morning, you did not tell me anything about the expanded scale of the inquiry and the involvement of civilians and non-Carabinieri medics?’
‘I didn’t know, sir. Not until afterwards.’
Valentina tries to jump in. ‘With respect, Major-’
‘Be quiet, Captain. Keeping your mouth shut is the best way you can show me respect. I’ll come back to your explanation in a moment.’
Caesario angles his body towards Assante. ‘You were saying, Lieutenant – you didn’t know until afterwards… finish your excuse.’
‘Captain Morassi called me at home and explained that she had visited the clinic. She said she had spoken to both the doctor and the prisoner and consequently visited the area near Tiber Island where the body of a male was found. It was only when I arrived at the scene that I realised there was a relationship between the captain and the civilian who found the body.’
The major again halts the conversation with his traffic cop hand. ‘Explain, Captain.’
‘Explain what, sir?’ She knows exactly what he means. And what’s going on. The sexist pig is dressing her down. Humiliating her. Showing her his station house is run by men – men who don’t take kindly to women being given positions of senior rank.
Caesario puts his elbows on the desk and then leans forward on pale, chubby forearms. ‘Let’s start with your relationship with this man, Tom Shaman. Explain it to me.’
Valentina feels Assante’s eyes on her. The disloyal son-ofa-bitch is enjoying every second of this. She swallows and stays calm. ‘Tom and I have a sexual relationship. A recent one. He is currently living with me.’
Caesario can’t help but look smug. ‘I see. And…’
‘Is this a disciplinary inquiry, sir?’ Valentina puts her hands on the edge of his desk and pointedly leans towards him. ‘Because if it is, then I believe I should have been properly notified, and I haven’t been.’
The major can barely believe her cheek.
Valentina’s not done. ‘Major, I must also formally object to the manner in which you have encouraged Lieutenant Assante to report directly to you on an operational matter that you personally called me in on and asked me to take charge of.’
Now it’s Caesario’s turn to try to control his anger. ‘Oh, must you?’
Valentina stands. Her chair scrapes noisily across the wooden floor. ‘Sir, to be clear, I wish to put on record the fact that I believe your instructions undermined my position, and I feel I should inform you that I will be writing contemporaneous notes of this meeting and seeking representation.’
‘Sit down, Captain!’
Valentina remains standing.
‘Sit down – that’s an order!’
Valentina sits. She pulls the chair up under her legs and feels herself shake.
‘Assante, get out. Leave us alone.’
The lieutenant rises, salutes and leaves without comment.
The door at the far end of the room clicks shut. Caesario stares across his desk and draws a long breath. ‘What are you doing?’
Valentina is fiddling nervously with her cell phone.
‘I’m sorry, sir. I forgot to mute my phone and there was a call coming in.’
He can’t believe the girl. Insolent. Distracted. Unfocused. ‘Put it down! For God’s sake, woman, how unprofessional can you be?’
Valentina all but drops the BlackBerry on the edge of his desk. ‘I’m not unprofessional, sir. Far from it.’
Alone now, with the door shut, his anger boils over. ‘Not unprofessional? I’ll tell you what you are. You’re a joke, Morassi, that’s what you are. If the top brass weren’t under political pressure to have some skirts wearing senior rank, you’d be out doing traffic duty. Correction, traffic duty is too important a job for women; you’d be filing reports.’
‘Sir!’
‘Don’t be so damned insolent, Captain. When a senior officer is talking, you sit and listen. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good.’ His voice becomes almost normal. ‘Look, I don’t know who you impressed or how you impressed them, but I didn’t want you here and I still don’t want you here. Your face is plastered across magazines, my press office is logjammed with requests to talk to you. You are a liability, Captain.’
‘Sir, it was the press office that insisted I did the Vanity Fair shoot. I assure you I have no desire to have cameras pointed at me.’
‘Enough!’ He drums his sausage fingers on the desk and grits his teeth. ‘Let’s be straight with each other – officer to officer. You and I both know that you have no future here. I need first-class officers, not political pin-up girls. You’re in the Carabinieri, not Berlusconi’s cabinet.’ He lets out another pained sigh. ‘Listen to me. I’m going to give you some advice. This is a good point for you to put in a transfer request. I’ll give you some time off until we get you posted elsewhere and you can spend it at home with your new lover.’ He smiles patronisingly at her. ‘How does that offer sound?’
Valentina stares down at the big wooden desk. Caesario’s fat little fingers start drumming again, just centimetres from the cell phone he berated her for trying to turn off. She picks it up and turns it in her hands. ‘I think your offer sounds fine.’ She presses the touch screen on the phone and holds it up towards his face. Caesario’s voice rolls out from the phone: ‘ If the top brass weren’t under political pressure to have some skirts wearing senior rank, you’d be out doing traffic duty.’
Valentina hits pause and looks him in the eye. ‘I don’t think that’s the most damning part of the recording, sir, but I’m sure that even that bit is sufficient to end the career of a misogynistic bully like you.’ She turns the BlackBerry off and slips it inside her jacket.