‘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.