Present Day Venice It's two days since Tina left, and Tom is missing her far more than he thought he would.
When he's not at the Carabinieri headquarters, which is where he's currently heading, he walks the streets. Anything rather than sit and think about her. Maybe he was crazy to imagine he was something more than merely an exotic amusement for her.
As soon as she'd gone he moved back to his old hotel – there was no way he could afford the Luna Baglioni on his dwindling funds. He was pleasantly surprised when the cops offered to pick up the bill and also to pay him some daily expenses until they were done with him.
He pauses mid-bridge and looks out over passing gondolas and water taxis heading into the Canal Grande. He's taking in the view and half thinking about moving on, deciding what to do when the cops solve the case or shut it down, when the view jolts his memory. He puts his hand in the jacket Tina bought him and pulls out the postcard old Rosanna Romano gave him the night she died. Two gifts from two women he'd barely known and who'd never met each other, yet they've both left indelible marks on his life. Tom doesn't know whether to call it fate, coincidence or just God's will. He stares out at the Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute and understands why Canaletto felt compelled to paint it, and why Rosanna's postcard drew him to Venice. In real life it's so much bigger and more beautiful than even Canaletto could capture on canvas. It's tantalisingly close to his hotel and he makes himself a promise that he'll go inside – but not today. He's already in danger of being late for a meeting with the Carabinieri.
Tom's still reflective and melancholic when he arrives just five minutes late, which he's already learned is like being twenty minutes early in Venice. A young officer from the front desk takes him upstairs to Vito Carvalho's room, where he finds the major also looking downcast.
'Ciao, Tom. Please sit down.'
'Grazie.' Tom takes the chance to exercise his extensive Italian vocabulary of about ten words, 'Buongiorno, Major.'
Valentina Morassi walks in and they briefly kiss, that wonderful double kiss that Italians do better than any other nation. As she sits at the side of her boss's desk, Tom can instantly tell that something's wrong.
Carvalho takes a set of stapled fax pages and pushes it Tom's way. 'From the National Enquirer. Faxed to us by the FBI this morning.'
Tom drags the document across. His own face stares up at him. Not a shot he's seen before. Not one used in the coverage that came after the gang rape in LA. He's wearing only a towel around his waist and he's sitting in the window of Tina's hotel room. It's been taken on a camera phone. Tina's phone. He almost daren't look at the innumerable columns of text beneath the picture and the headline: Hero Priest Finds Love and Death in Venice.
Carvalho and Valentina give him time to take it all in. They've already been over the kiss-and-tell article several times, and both of them would gladly lock Tina Ricci up for the rest of her days. It's bad enough that she's graphically detailed her steamy love sessions with the former priest: what's unforgivable is that she's described how he's helping Venetian police with a murder hunt.
Tom finally puts the paper down. 'I'm really sorry. I don't know what to say to you.' He lets out a long slow breath. 'I can't believe she did this.'
'No one ever can,' says Valentina coldly. 'Journalists are specialists in deception.'
'You're not the first to be taken in by a beautiful reporter – not by a long way – and you won't be the last,' adds Carvalho with a little more sympathy. 'But this is a really damaging piece for us. My boss went pazzo – totally crazy. Our switchboard is in meltdown with press calls, and the top brass in Rome are demanding a full report.'
Tom studies the pages again. He feels a sickening mixture of anger and shame. 'I'm truly sorry. I somehow thought travel-writing meant she was different from other news reporters. Guess I got that all wrong. What can I do to make things easier for you and the investigation?'
Carvalho smiles. 'Aside from catching the killer? Probably nothing.' He glances at a clock on the wall. 'Time for me to go and be kicked again by the brigadier. Please stay here until I come back. We'll have to agree a statement to the Italian press.'
Tom forces a smile. Carvalho grabs a file and heads off.
'Don't worry,' says Valentina, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. 'Italians are very forgiving about affairs of the heart. After all, we have a president who has more mistresses than there are gondolas in Venice. You want some coffee?'
Tom manages a laugh. 'Thanks. I feel stunned.'
'It's how women feel when they find their man has been cheating.' She looks deep into his eyes. 'It's betrayal, Tom. Not a good feeling. Not something you should ever put people through.'
He guesses she's speaking from some past personal pain. 'No, it's not.' He pushes at the article in front of him. 'You know, I don't so much mind this hurting me. I'll chalk it up as one of many emotional lessons I have to learn. But I'm really sorry she's made things so awkward for you and Vito.'
'Hey, after everything that's happened to me recently, I can tell you, this is nothing.' She smiles, a warm smile that ironically reminds him quite painfully of Tina. 'I'll get us the coffee.'
Left alone in the room, Tom instantly becomes reflective. Wonders if Tina had been acting all along, if everything she'd said and done had been just a pretence, a way of getting a good story out of him.
More worryingly, he wonders how he'll ever be able to trust another woman in his life.