Drawing Conclusions - Donna Leon [48]
‘Good morning, Commissario,’ she said with a bright smile when she saw him approach. She wore a cobalt blue silk jacket, and against it the red and yellow flowers seemed somehow brighter. She handed him three bouquets, which were quickly replaced in her arms by more from the woman selling them. While he waited, Signorina Elettra detached an arm for long enough to pass her some notes. No receipt was given in return: second crime of the morning.
‘Office equipment?’ he asked, nodding at her flowers, trying to ignore his own.
‘Oh, Commissario,’ she said with every indication of surprise, ‘you know I couldn’t live with myself if I thought for an instant that I was doing something improper with regard to the finances of the Questura.’ When she realized that Brunetti was not going to play straight man, she said, ‘I just happen to have a receipt for some colour cartridges for a printer. I’ll submit it: the amount is about the same.’
He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know. This way, the flower seller did not pay taxes on the sale, and someone gave Signorina Elettra a receipt for some private purchase, and the Questura paid for the flowers, magically transformed into colour cartridges. Before he got on to the boat and also made improper use of it, Brunetti decided to stop counting crimes.
Foa appeared from the left and took the flowers from Signorina Elettra. Sure enough, on the other side of the market, a police launch was moored to the riva, motor running, another uniformed officer at the wheel. Foa handed the flowers to his colleague, jumped down into the boat and helped Signorina Elettra take her place, then reached up and accepted the flowers from Brunetti, leaving him to step into the boat himself.
Brunetti held open the door of the cabin, then joined her inside. When they were seated and the boat was heading under the Rialto, he said, ‘Signorina, do you know anything about an organization called Alba Libera?’
Her eyes widened in dawning understanding. ‘Of course, of course. I just didn’t think of them.’
He nodded in response and said, ‘She was a member; well, at least a supporter. And from what her neighbour said, she had women stay with her.’
‘That explains the underwear,’ she said.
Brunetti allowed time to pass before he asked, ‘Do you know anything about them?’
She gave him a level look, then let her eyes drift off to the buildings they were passing. Finally she looked back at him and said, ‘A bit.’
‘Might I ask you what that bit is?’
‘Just as you said, Signore, they provide safe places for women to stay.’
‘Women at risk?’ he asked.
‘Any woman who contacts them and is in need.’
‘Is that all she has to say?’
‘I’m sure they ask for proof.’
‘What would that be?’ he enquired in a level voice.
‘Police reports,’ she said. A long pause, and then, ‘Or hospital reports.’
‘I see,’ he said. ‘You sound familiar with them.’ He tried to speak in a judicious, neutral tone.
She smiled. ‘I give them money every year,’ she said. ‘But because I work where I do, I’ve never offered to have one stay with me, and I’m not involved in any way.’
Brunetti nodded and said, ‘That’s probably wise.’ Then he asked, ‘But you know the people who are?’
‘Yes,’ she said, sounding not at all eager to say so.
‘Could you …’ he began, not sure how to phrase his request. ‘Could you introduce me to them?’
‘And vouch for you?’ she asked with a smile.
‘Something like that.’
‘Now?’
‘When we get to the Questura,’ he said. Then he asked, ‘Do they know where you work?’
‘No,’ she said, waving the question away with her hand. ‘Just that I work for the city.’
‘Better that way,’ Brunetti said.
‘Yes.’
14
When they got to the Questura, Foa and his companion seemed happy to help Signorina Elettra with the flowers, so Brunetti went directly to his office. There were some reports and papers on his desk, most of them bureaucratic, and he spent some time looking through them.
The only thing that caught his interest was a request for information about a Romanian woman, one of whose names