Present Day Carabinieri HQ, Venice When the briefing is over and the team leaders, forensic scientists and the ME and his assistants have all dispersed, Valentina Morassi walks Tom outside. At first he doesn't realise that she wants to ask him something. Something personal.
Only when she's walked considerably further than the front steps of the Carabinieri building does his pastoral instinct finally surface: 'Valentina, is there something I can help you with?'
She struggles at first, unsure just how to unload the thoughts that are driving her crazy. 'Do you mind if I walk with you? I need to clear my head.'
'Don't mind at all. In fact, I'd be delighted to have your company – you can be my guide. I've done this walk back to the hotel before but I'm geographically challenged and bound to get lost.'
She laughs. 'People say getting lost is the only way to get to know Venice.'
'Then I'll soon be an expert.'
They stroll and talk about work for a while, including the tasks Vito has set them all. Tom has to find out more about rituals, cults and symbolism surrounding the liver. He jokes about it being his history, religious and biology home-work but Valentina can barely muster a polite smile.
The sky is full of what Tom calls 'old lady' clouds, a grey-ness that seems to match the melancholia on his companion's face. After a couple of bridges he tries to edge closer to what's troubling her. 'Valentina, I really admire your strength. How dedicated and professional you've been after the loss of your cousin. I can barely imagine how stressful it all is for you.'
She looks humbly at her feet. 'Grazie. The work helps. It's a welcome distraction – stops me thinking about him.'
Tom understands; he's seen too many grieving relatives not to. 'As the funeral gets closer, you'll feel pain at its rawest. Probably you're already experiencing a little confusion, maybe some anger as well?'
She rubs a hand through her hair. 'All of that.'
'It's natural. Part of the grieving process. When you lose someone so close to you, it's overwhelming, bewildering. It's going to take a while to get your bearings.'
She manages a tiny smile. 'Like being in a strange city, such as Venice?'
Tom smiles. 'Glad you've still got a sense of humour.' He walks a couple of steps then looks kindly at her. 'I really believe you do have to get lost in order to eventually find the new self that you become. Especially when it comes to dealing with the death of someone who's been such a big part of your life.'
She looks up, and now there's no trace of humour. 'What happens when we die?' She narrows her eyes and gives away just a glint of anger. 'I mean, is that really it? We just become dust? Ashes to ashes, and all that?'
Tom stops walking. It's a question he's been asked many times. 'I don't believe so. I'm sure there's more to us than only decay.'
'More of what? What more is there?'
'More to existence than our mortal time on earth.' His eyes make a connection with hers. 'I believe our spirits live on after we're gone.'
Until recently she'd have laughed at such a remark. Not now. Not since Antonio's death. 'I hope you're right, but I'm not even sure what a spirit is, let alone whether I have one and where it might go after I'm dead.' It hurts her even to say the word dead – a word she's used on a daily basis since joining the police and only now understands the meaning of.
He takes her hand. 'Trust me, you have a spirit. And though I didn't know Antonio well, I know he had one too – a very good one.'
She blinks. No tears, but they're close. 'I loved him so much. He wasn't only a cousin – he was a best friend – the big brother I never had.' And now the tears come. 'Shit!' She fumbles in her pocket for a tissue.
Tom puts his arms around her and holds her for a moment. Over her shoulder he sees the labyrinth of canals leading to the scene of Monica's murder. He rubs Valentina's shoulders to comfort her. 'Things will get easier. It will take a while, but the worst of the pain will pass.'
Valentina pulls gently from his embrace and begins to walk. 'I'm sorry. I try to keep these moments private.'
'No need to apologise.'
Her cellphone beeps out that she's missed a message. She takes it from her coat pocket and sees the call was from Carvalho. 'Somehow, everything seems to remind me of Antonio. I look at my phone and think it's a text message from him, he was always wanting some favour or other. I go to make a call and I see his name on my directory – yet I just can't bring myself to wipe it from the memory.' She shakes her head. 'Back home I still have answerphone messages from him on my landline.'
'All that's okay. It's not time for you to let go yet.'
'When will it be time?'
He holds her again. 'Hard to say. Maybe after the funeral. You'll know when it's right to move on. You have to go steady. One step at a time.'
Valentina looks up and over his shoulder. 'Your hotel. I've delivered you safe and sound.'
'Grazie,' says Tom, aware it's one of the few Italian words he feels confident enough to try. 'Do you want to come in? I'm meeting Tina – we could all have a drink in the bar if you need some company.'
Valentina lifts her phone and shows the missed call. 'Thanks, but I have to get back. My boss will be sending out search squads if he doesn't see me shortly.'
Tom smiles sympathetically. He wishes he could do more. 'Okay. Take care, and please call me – any time – if you feel you want to talk.'
'Ciao,' says Valentina, raising a hand in thanks as she turns and begins the walk back to headquarters. Part of her wishes she'd taken up his offer. She probably would have done if it hadn't included Tina.
Valentina thinks about calling her boss. She unlocks the phone and then determines to do something else first. She scrolls through the directory and finds the entry marked Antonio. She takes a breath, selects Options and then hits Delete.