“And what does this gentleman do for a living?”
“Nothing. Nothing useful, anyway. He fucks anything that comes within range. He plays cards. He’s working on not getting a degree in business, and, well, that’s about it.”
She’d stopped herself before saying something else. I noticed very clearly-she’d held back from saying more. There was something she’d decided not to tell me, something she didn’t want to talk about. Or maybe she did want to, but, at the same time, she didn’t. I needed to circle back around, but not right away.
“You said he’s violent. Is that why you suspected he might have had something to do with Manuela’s disappearance? Or was there something more specific?”
“No. Nothing specific. When I heard something had happened to Manuela but no one knew what it was, he was the first and only person who came to mind.”
“When she broke up with him, he kept after her for a while, right?”
“Yes. He phoned her, wrote her letters, asked her to give him another chance. He even stalked her. He came down to Rome twice. Once he caused a huge scene in the street. They got physical. He hit her, and she hit him back, and then we separated them…”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Me and two friends.”
“How long did he keep after her?”
“For months. I can’t remember exactly how many.”
“I read the transcript of the statement that he made to the Carabinieri. He admitted that the end of their relationship had been pretty stormy, but he also said that things had gotten back on an even keel, and that after it was all over they were on friendly terms.”
“I wouldn’t say friendly. But it’s true that he stopped calling her and coming around. Manuela said he’d probably just found another victim.”
“Was that true?”
“I don’t know. For that matter, I don’t think Manuela knew either, and anyway she didn’t give a damn.”
“Earlier, when I asked you what Michele did for a living, you were about to say something else, and then you stopped yourself.”
“When?”
“You were about to say something else, and you decided not to. Caterina, everything we say here is completely confidential, but I absolutely need to know everything. It may not have anything to do with Manuela’s disappearance. In fact, it almost certainly has nothing do with it, but I need to know.”
Now she seemed uncomfortable, as if the situation had gotten out of control and she was afraid of making a false move. She was wondering how to withdraw. I remembered what had come up in my conversation with Anita, about the drugs that were circulating at the trulli. I figured it was worth a shot; the worst thing that could happen was that she might tell me I was wrong.
“Caterina,” I said, “is it something to do with drugs?”
She looked at me in astonishment.
“Then you already knew?”
Obviously, I didn’t know. I felt the thrill of winning when you’re bluffing in a poker game. I shrugged and acted indifferent. I said nothing; it was her turn.
“If you already know about it, then there’s not much left to say. He loved cocaine, he always had plenty, and so…”
“Did he sell it, too?”
“No! That is, I don’t know. I couldn’t say for sure.”
And then, hesitantly, after another pause. “But he always seemed to have plenty of it.”
“Did the issue of drugs have something to do with why Manuela broke up with him?”
She shook her head forcefully, and I thought I glimpsed for just a fraction of a second a flash of despair, or something like it, in the way she did it. I told myself I needed to restrain my impulse to read too much into things.
“I assume there’s no smoking in here, right?”
“I wouldn’t have guessed you were a smoker. You look like an athlete.”
“I only smoke a couple a day, well, three or four. After dinner, after a glass of wine. When I’m relaxing. But sometimes I need a cigarette when I’m feeling really tense. Like right now.”
“Well, I’m sorry if I’ve made you tense. Go ahead and have a cigarette. You’re allowed.”
“No, it’s not you making me tense. You’ve been very nice, in fact. It’s just the whole situation, the… well, you know what I mean, right?”
She took out a brightly colored cigarette case, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with an athletic gesture. I extracted an ashtray from a drawer and handed it to her.
“I was an athlete, in my day.”
“In your day? What do you mean by that?”
“I was a good swimmer. I won a bunch of regional championships. I even won some national meets. That life is stressful, though. Training sessions twice a day, add that to full-time studying and you have no life. After a few years, I quit. And I never really looked back.”
“I quit competitive sports, too, and I was about your age at the time.”
Of course, there was absolutely no good reason for me to tell her that, other than my pathetic vanity.
“Which sport?” she asked, blowing a column of smoke out of the side of her mouth.
“Boxing.”
“Boxing? You mean, like fighting, in the ring?”
“I fought for a few years. Amateur standing, of course. I won a regional title and silver at the national college championships.”
What an idiot, I said to myself. You’re flirting with a schoolgirl, as if you were her age. Cut it out, you moron.
“Cool. I like men who are men. I usually intimidate men, so I really like men who aren’t easily intimidated. How old are you, Counselor?”
My wits blunted by my idiotic vanity, it took me a few seconds to realize that she had successfully changed the subject away from my question, gaining precious minutes, and giving herself time to regroup.
“Let’s forget about how old I am. We were talking about Cantalupi and how he was involved in narcotics. I was asking you whether, in your opinion, drugs had anything to do with Manuela and Michele’s breakup.”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t rule it out. I don’t think it was any one thing. It was all of it. Manuela had figured out who that guy really was, and she didn’t want to be with him anymore.”
“Manuela… as far as you know, did she do coke with Michele? Or at least, had it happened at some time or other?”
She exhaled loudly. She shook her head. My impression was that she was telling herself that she’d made a mistake when she decided to come here, thinking that she’d be able to control the situation easily.
“What does that matter? What does Manuela’s disappearance have to do with what she might have done with that asshole the year before?”
In all likelihood, she was right. Most likely it had nothing to do with anything, but I couldn’t say that for certain without looking into it. Also, and especially, because that asshole was acting defensive, had refused to meet with me and, one way or another, had something to hide. I decided I needed to win Caterina’s cooperation, bring her over to my side.
“Listen, Caterina. I have to assume that we’re all just stumbling around in the dark in this thing. We have to try to figure out, feeling our way, what’s there in the dark. No one can say, in advance, whether something is significant or not. That’s why I need you to answer the question I just asked you.”
I let a few seconds go by. She looked at me, scowling, and said nothing.
“I need to know, because Michele is refusing to meet with me. Which doesn’t necessarily mean that he has anything to do with Manuela’s disappearance, but I need to make an effort to look into this, at the very least.”
“Michele refused to come in?”
“That’s right. Manuela’s mother called him, just as she called you. At first, he said he’d come in. In fact, he was supposed to come in right after you. Then, a short while ago, a lawyer called me, told me that Michele was his client, that he wouldn’t be coming in to talk to me, and that if I tried to contact Michele again he would lodge a complaint with the ethics committee of the bar association. Does that surprise you?”