Beastly Things (31 page)

That stopped them. Papetti’s mouth dropped open, and Brunetti thought he was going to begin to cry again. Instead, he looked at Torinese, as if waiting for him to speak, then back at Brunetti. ‘I don’t know what …’ he started to say.

Torinese gave his client a quick look and tried to take over. ‘If you could clarify your statement, Commissario, I’m sure both my client and I would be very pleased.’

Brunetti waited for the colour to return to Papetti’s face; when it did, he said, careful to speak to Torinese, ‘I’m sure your client understands my meaning. The last thing, the very last thing, I would like to see happen is for Dottor Papetti’s father-in-law to misunderstand the nature of his relationship with any of the employees at the
macello
.’ Papetti stared at him, face blank, mouth open just the least little bit.

Brunetti gave him the merest glance and returned his attention to the lawyer. ‘That Dottor Papetti’s father-in-law would confuse professional intimacy with intimacy of another kind: I dread the possibility that something like that might happen.’ He smiled to show his opinion of the rashness of men and of how terribly prone to it some of them were. ‘Such a misunderstanding might upset Signor De Rivera, to make no mention of his daughter, Dottor Papetti’s wife, and I would never want to feel in any way
responsible
for the possible consequences of that error.’ He turned to Papetti and gave him a smile that was an exercise in compassionate fellow feeling. ‘I couldn’t live with myself were that to happen.’

Papetti’s right hand lifted and moved towards his head, but he caught it in time and returned it to his thigh. Ignoring the glance Torinese shot him, he said, ‘She started an affair with Dottor Nava after he began to work at the slaughterhouse.’

‘She started it?’ Brunetti asked, placing special emphasis on the personal pronoun.

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘To get a hold on Nava. She knew he was married, and it was obvious that he was a decent man.’ Papetti shook his head at his lawyer to stop him from speaking. ‘We had to pay the ones who came before him; not all that much, but still we paid them. She wanted to save money, so she began the affair, and then, when she was sure that Nava was deeply involved with her,’ he began, leaving the three other men in the room to imagine what this might entail, ‘she told him she was going to tell his wife that they were lovers unless he changed his behaviour at the
macello
.’

‘Changed it how?’ Brunetti asked to nudge him along.

‘Stopped condemning so many animals as unhealthy.’

‘Why would she want to do that?’ Brunetti asked, aware that Torinese’s head was moving back and forth as if he were watching a tennis match.

‘Because she was …’ Papetti began but was cut short by a savage glance from Brunetti. ‘Because she and I,’ he amended, ‘were paid by the farmers to see that most of the animals brought in for slaughter would be accepted.’

No one spoke, all of them waiting to see how much more he would reveal. ‘There was a certain amount of
money
involved.’ Before anyone could ask, he said, ‘A lot of money.’

‘What was your share?’ Brunetti asked, using a soft voice and asking in the plural.

‘Twenty-five per cent,’ Papetti said.

‘Of?’

‘Of the price the farmers got if the sick animals weren’t condemned and could be slaughtered.’

Though Torinese tried to disguise it, Brunetti could see that he was startled, perhaps even something stronger than that.

‘These animals, Dottor Papetti, the ones that Dottor Nava condemned: what sort of diseases did they have?’

Evasively, Papetti said, ‘The usual ones.’

Torinese, in a voice that had suddenly grown dry, asked, ‘What ones?’

‘TB, digestion problems, cancer, viruses, worms. Most of the diseases animals can have. Some of them looked like they’d been eating contaminated fodder.’

‘And what happened to them?’ Torinese asked almost as if he could not stop himself.

‘They were slaughtered,’ Papetti said.

‘And then?’ Again, it was his lawyer who asked the question.

‘They were used.’

‘As?’

‘Meat.’

Torinese gave his client a long look and then turned his attention away from him.

‘And this was a profitable business for you and Signorina Borelli?’ Brunetti asked.

Papetti nodded.

‘You have to speak your answer, Dottore,’ Brunetti informed him. ‘Or else it won’t appear on the transcript.’

‘Yes.’

‘Did Dottor Nava agree to stop condemning the animals?’

It took some time, but finally Papetti said, ‘No.’

‘Did you and Signorina Borelli discuss the financial consequences of his refusal?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what did you decide to do?’

Papetti thought about this before he answered. ‘I wanted to fire him. But Giulia – Signorina Borelli, that is – wanted to try to threaten him first. I told you: she’d already begun an affair with him as a kind of insurance policy if he didn’t agree to do it, so she threatened to tell his wife.’

‘What happened?’ Brunetti asked.

Papetti rolled his eyes back in his head, as if imitating the actions of a lunatic. ‘He told his wife. Or at least that’s what he told Giulia: that he went home and told her about the affair.’

‘And what did the wife do?’ Brunetti asked, sounding completely ignorant about the matter.

‘She told him to get out,’ Papetti said in the voice one uses for recounting signs and portents, wonders and miracles.

‘And?’

‘He left. And the wife went ahead and asked for a legal separation.’ Unable to stifle his astonishment, he said, ‘For an affair.’

‘And, surely, you both must have been concerned that Nava would tell someone what was going on,’ Brunetti said calmly, stating the most natural thing in the world.

Papetti pursed his lips and then rubbed at them, seeking the proper way to say it. ‘I didn’t think I was at much risk,’ he finally conceded.

‘Because of your father-in-law’s connections?’ Brunetti asked. Torinese was back, watching the match again.

Papetti raised his hands and let them fall to his thighs again. ‘I’d rather not say. But I didn’t have to worry, not really.’

‘About an investigation?’

Papetti nodded.

‘Protected by someone concerned with public health?’ Brunetti asked.

Papetti’s grimace was strained. ‘I’d really rather not say.’

‘Did Signorina Borelli share your sense of ease about an investigation?’

Papetti thought for a long time, and Brunetti saw the moment when he realized the profit to be had. ‘No,’ he said.

Before Brunetti could formulate another question, Papetti went on, ‘She was angry – I think I could say very angry – about the loss.’

‘Loss?’ Torinese asked from the sidelines.

‘Of money,’ Papetti said in a quick, impatient voice. ‘That’s all she cares about, really. Making money. So as long as Nava was there, she was losing a lot of money every month.’

‘How much?’ Brunetti asked.

‘Close to two thousand Euros. It depended on how many animals were brought in.’

‘And she objected?’ Brunetti asked.

Papetti actually sat up higher in his chair before he asked, ‘Most people would, don’t you think?’

‘Of course,’ Brunetti acquiesced in face of the reprimand, then asked, ‘How was it left between you?’

‘She said she’d try to talk to him one more time. Maybe persuade him to quit. Or to ask him if he’d let Bianchi do some of the inspecting.’

‘He knew what was going on, this Bianchi?’ Brunetti asked, quite as though it were in doubt.

‘Of course,’ Papetti shot back.

‘And it was left like this? That she would ask him?’

‘Yes.’

‘And was any of this on your mind when she called you at midnight and said she had to see you?’

Papetti shrugged. ‘I suppose it was. But I never thought she’d do something like that.’

‘Like what, Signor Papetti?’ Brunetti demanded.

All Papetti could do was shrug.

32

WELL, THOUGHT BRUNETTI
, here we are. Two of us and two of them, and everything is clear, at least clear to anyone who wants to understand. He looked across at Torinese: the lawyer had returned to the contemplation of his hands, sufficient sign that he now had a more comprehensive idea of his client’s involvement in the story of Dottor Andrea Nava. Brunetti leaned forward and switched off both tape recorders: neither Papetti nor Torinese objected.

The silence expanded, each moment making it more difficult to break. Brunetti decided to see where it led. Vianello, he noticed, kept his head down, eyes on his notes. Torinese continued the study of his hands, while Papetti looked at his lawyer and then, it appeared, at the feet of Brunetti’s desk.

After an eternity, Papetti said, clearing his throat before he spoke, ‘Commissario, you mentioned your concern for my father-in-law.’ Did his voice grow less steady as he pronounced that title?

Brunetti met his eyes but said nothing, waiting.

‘Could you be clearer about what you mean? Specifically, that is.’

‘I mean that your father-in-law, when the information about Signorina Borelli reaches the press, might come to the hasty conclusion that there was something other than a common economic interest between the two of you.’ He gave a smile, the sort men use when it’s just men talking together, and about women. ‘She’s a very attractive young woman, and she certainly sounds available.’ That word, which would usually, in a conversation among men, sound like a promise, now fell upon Papetti’s ears like the threat it was.

Papetti cleared his throat again. ‘But I never …’ He smiled, as if he remembered that he was in a room with other guys and there was a way they had to talk to one another. ‘I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to. You know that. As you said, she’s an attractive woman. But she’s not my type.’ No sooner had Papetti spoken, and in that manner, than Brunetti saw the shadow of his father-in-law fall across his face. Quickly, Papetti added, ‘Besides, it’s obvious that she’s more trouble than she’s worth.’

Well, Brunetti thought, Nava certainly discovered that, didn’t he? But he said, ‘My concern, Dottore, is not so much our understanding in this room,’ and he waved his hand at the other two men, neither of whom looked up, ‘as that your father-in-law should not draw the wrong conclusion.’

‘That can’t happen,’ Papetti declared, but it came out as a plea rather than a statement.

‘I certainly share your concern, Dottore,’ Brunetti said in an expression of male fellow feeling. ‘But the press, as we all know, prints what it wants and insinuates what it will.’ Then he gave in to the temptation to provoke Papetti.
‘Your
father-in-law would probably be able to prevent these reports from appearing,’ Brunetti began and paused before adding, ‘though it might be better to keep even the hint of suspicion from occurring to him.’ The expression on Papetti’s face made Brunetti ashamed of what he was doing. What’s next, you put him in a cage and poke him with a stick?

Papetti shook his head and kept on shaking it as he considered the possible consequences of his father-in-law’s misunderstanding. Finally, like a man who confesses to stop the pain, he asked, ‘What do I have to do?’

If this was the taste of victory, Brunetti did not like it, but still he said, ‘In the presence of your lawyer, you confirm and sign the transcript of what you’ve just told me about the way you and Signorina Borelli paid the veterinarians at the slaughterhouse to approve as healthy animals that were not. And about how she began an affair with Dottor Andrea Nava in hopes of being able to persuade him to do the same.’ He gave Papetti a chance to acknowledge understanding or compliance, but the man remained motionless, his face blank.

‘You’ve also explained Signorina Borelli’s decision to threaten him by revealing the affair to his wife, and Dottor Nava’s response to that.’ He waited for Papetti’s nod, and at that he said, ‘I also want you to sign the transcript of what you told me about her call to you and the help you gave her in disposing of the body of Dottor Nava.’

Brunetti stopped and looked at Papetti’s lawyer, who might as well not have been in the room for all the attention he seemed to be paying to what was going on around him. ‘You will sign this account, and your lawyer will sign it as a witness.’ That, to Brunetti, seemed clear enough.

‘And if she claims we were having an affair?’ Papetti asked in a tight voice.

‘I’ve a statement that confirms what you’ve said about what was going on at the slaughterhouse, and Signorina Borelli’s lack of sexual interest in you,’ Brunetti said and saw the shock on both men’s faces.

‘Thus the newspapers could report that the police have excluded that possibility,’ Brunetti offered. ‘For we do.’

As if someone had walked over his grave, Torinese raised his head and asked, ‘Could report or will report?’

‘Will report,’ Brunetti guaranteed.

‘What else?’ Torinese asked.

‘Do I want or do I give?’ Brunetti asked.

‘Want.’

All Brunetti wanted was enough to convict Borelli of having killed Dottor Nava. The rest – the diseased meat, the corrupted veterinarians, the farmers and their contaminated earnings – he would gladly hand over to the Carabinieri, who had the NAS for such things: they could handle it better than he. And the boys in Finance could be given a chance to pick the bones of their illegal earnings.

‘I want her,’ he said.

Torinese turned to his client and asked, ‘Well?’

Papetti nodded. ‘I’ll tell them anything they want.’

Brunetti would not allow the ambiguity of this and said instantly, ‘If you lie, in your own favour, or against her, I’ll toss you to your father-in-law so fast you won’t have time to raise your hands to protect yourself.’

Vianello’s head snapped up at Brunetti’s tone, the other two at his words.

Torinese got to his feet. ‘Is that all?’ he asked. Brunetti nodded. He looked at Brunetti and, after some time, the lawyer nodded in return, a gesture Brunetti could not interpret.

‘If you’ll go downstairs with Inspector Vianello,’ Brunetti said, ‘he’ll bring you the printed statement as soon as it’s ready. When you sign it, you can both go.’