‘Yes, she did it, she organised the whole thing … I kept saying it wouldn’t work … she … She did it.’
Bordelli stood up, dragged a chair over beside Giulio, and sat down.
‘Now I’m going to ask you a question, Giulio, and I want a clear answer. Are you ready?’ he said, in a tone at once severe and protective.
‘Yes,’ Giulio blubbered, drooling.
‘Were you all in it together?’
Giulio couldn’t bring himself to look up, keeping his eyes fixed on an inkwell.
‘She did it, Inspector, she organised everything,’ he said.
‘Of course. But you knew about it and didn’t do anything to stop her, did you?’ he said.
‘Yes, I mean no … I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do it.’
‘All right, you didn’t do it, but if you all got away with it, some of the inheritance would have gone to you, too, wouldn’t it?’
Giulio said nothing and kept dribbling. Every so often a sob shook his whole body from the waist up. Bordelli brought his chair even closer to Giulio’s and made a sign to Piras to resume typing. The horrible clacking began to assail their ears again.
‘Did your wife and your brother know?’
‘Yes, they knew, and I knew too, but it was Gina who did everything.’
‘What do you mean by “everything”? Let’s run through the whole thing. Who was it that switched the medicine bottles?’
Giulio started whimpering again, and sniffling.
‘Gina.’
‘And who put the pollen on Gideon’s back?’
‘Gina.’
‘Good. And who went back to the villa that night to switch the medicine bottles again? Gina again?’
Giulio’s face collapsed once and for all.
‘No. It was my brother.’
‘All right. So they did it. But you and your wife knew everything, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘One last thing. Was it you who put the nitroglycerine in Dante’s bottle?’
‘That was her idea, Gina’s, I mean … I knew it wouldn’t work … I knew it!’ he said with a sob, and then he buried his fat face in his hands and started whimpering like a dog. Bordelli sighed. It was a truly nasty affair, more sordid than most.
‘All right, then. Bring them all in, Piras. The lawyer, too. Let’s give them the good news, and we can all go and get some sleep.’
‘So, Rosa, how are things with the cat?’
It was nighttime, on the last Sunday in September. Bordelli lay comfortably on his friend’s sofa in front of an open window giving on to the neighborhood rooftops. He had taken his shoes off and was sipping a thirst-quenching concoction. Rosa was deeply tanned and deeply decolletee, arms covered with clinking bracelets.
‘Gideon’s a darling. I couldn’t live without him,’ she said.
‘I’m so glad you’ve become friends. Where is he now?’
‘I leave the terrace door open for him, so he can go wandering over the rooftops. You won’t believe it, but every evening at nine o’clock sharp he comes into my room to cuddle with me. He’s such a dear … why won’t you tell me where you got him?’
‘I’ve already told you. One night he came knocking on my door and asked me to introduce him to a wonderful woman.’
Rosa looked over her shoulder at him, smiling with embarrassment and pleasure.
‘You’re such a liar, dear Inspector, but that’s why I like you so much … Come on, tell me.’
‘He was given to me by a friend of mine who couldn’t keep him.’
‘And why couldn’t he keep him?’
‘Because his house is full of mice.’
‘Oh, you’re so silly!’
‘This time I’m telling the truth.’
‘Of course you are.’
‘I swear it’s true.’
Rosa flicked his nose with her finger.
‘Okay, I get it, you want it to remain a mystery.’
‘No, I tell you.’
‘All right, then, tell me again about the judge, it’s so funny … What did you say to him?’
‘I’ve told you that at least ten times; aren’t you getting tired of it?’
‘No, tell me again.’
Bordelli took a sip and lit up a cigarette.
‘So I go in and Judge Ginzillo shows me the chair. He looks very nervous. Then he looks me in the eye and says: “Do you know that interrogating a suspect without his lawyer present is a crime?” So I say: “Then go ahead and report me.”’