‘I wonder who your uncle could have called at that time of night,’ murmured Zen idly.
There was no answer, and for a moment he thought that the girl was trying to think of a suitable lie. Then he realized that she was still fretting about her missed opportunity to defeat Tomas.
‘What? Oh, it was Aldo Vincenzo. I overheard him telling Dad about it afterwards.’
Zen finished his coffee and set the cup down.
‘What did he say?’
‘I don’t know, I just heard the name. They clammed up as soon as I came in, as usual. I’m just a child, you see, and need to be protected from the harsh realities of life.’
Zen gave her an understanding smile.
‘And then they went to bed, I suppose.’
‘Dad did. Gianni went down to the cellar to check on something or other.’
‘And you? Didn’t you stay up to finish your game with Tomas?’
‘No, I went to sleep. Tomas would have been playing a different game by then. He has six or seven on the go at any one time, with people all over the world.’
A vehicle pulled up outside. Zen walked over to the window, then went to the door and called to the uniformed officer getting out of the police car.
‘Wait there! I’ll be out shortly.’
He came back into the room.
‘How do you get down to the cellar?’ he asked Lisa.
‘There.’
She pointed to a door in the corner.
‘But there’s another way in, too, I suppose. For deliveries and so on?’
‘At the far end of the house,’ she confirmed. ‘A flight of steps goes down from the yard. Why are you asking all these questions?’
‘I’m just trying to get things straight in my mind. Just two more questions, and I’ll leave you to get on with your homework.’
‘Actually, I’ll probably watch TV!’
Zen nodded and winked conspiratorially.
‘I’ll try to keep it brief. You mentioned just now that you inherited some money from an Aunt Chiara. Is that her picture?’
He pointed to the framed photograph. Lisa nodded.
‘It was taken the day she was confirmed. Isn’t her dress fabulous? I wonder what became of it.’
‘So Chiara Vincenzo was your aunt?’
Lisa laughed.
‘No, no, not really. I just called her that. And we never called her Vincenzo. She was always Signora Cravioli here.’
‘Did she come here often?’
‘Once a month or so. She walked here across the fields and stayed for about an hour. She’d never learned to drive, you see.’
‘Why did she come?’
Lisa thought about this, as if for the first time.
‘I’m not really sure. She used to sit in the front room with Gianni, and… I don’t know what they did, really. They didn’t seem to talk much. It was odd, I suppose. But she was always very kind to me, bringing me little presents, some fruit or a cake she’d baked. I just took it all for granted.’
Zen was silent for so long that the girl eventually added, ‘And your second question?’
‘Ah. I’m afraid that’s a little more delicate, signorina.’
Lisa Faigano gave an embarrassed laugh.
‘Go on.’
Zen looked down at his shoes.
‘Did Manlio Vincenzo ever propose marriage to you?’
‘Manlio? Of course not!’
‘He never mentioned the matter?’
Lisa blushed charmingly.
‘He mentioned once that his father was keen on the idea. But that was just to warn me, in case I heard about it from someone else. It could have been an awkward situation.’
‘So neither of you took the idea seriously?’
‘Of course not!’
Zen walked over to the dresser and inspected the photograph again.
‘Did you tell your father or Gianni about it?’ he asked, without turning round.
Lisa hesitated.
‘I wasn’t going to, but someone must have gossiped. We met in the village, and there were lots of people coming and going. One of them must have told Dad, because he brought it up over dinner.’