A Dark Song of Blood by Ben Pastor Read Free Book Online

knew what reputation the victim had in your community. Twenty-seven, unmarried or legally separated – the reports conflict – and ‘not too good-looking but vivacious.’ That’s how a co-worker described her in the dossier.”
    “I haven’t read it yet.”
    “Well, it isn’t enough to go on. Here’s Magda Reiner’s passport photo.”
    Bora glanced at the document Guidi handed him. “Some sources,” (he meant Dollmann, who had given him an earful of gossip about the story), “suggest she seemed to be actively seeking a husband, or a similar domestic arrangement.”
    “Among the Italians or the Germans?”
    “Both.” Bora leafed through the passport, and gave it back. “As for the lesbian angle, it came up after an office party where things got out of hand.” Because Guidi stared, Bora repeated, annoyed, “ Out of hand. Kissing, touching, and the like.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I was told by a colleague who attended. But you’re just making me talk, because from what I understand, you already have a suspect.”
    Guidi passed his fingers on the dustless bed table. “A fairly untouchable one. He’s Ras Merlo, one of the last and highest-ranking Party officials in Rome.”
    “Well, could it be?”
    “Judge for yourself, Major. He’s a henpecked middle-aged Romeo with a brood of children. His oversized wife is known as ‘the Grenadier’, and apparently not beyond striking him in anger. Jealousy is hinted at as a motive, whether or not it’d be enough for him to kill. He seems to have a history of roughing up occasional girlfriends. We can’t place him in this building on that night, but someone looking very much like him was seen in a distraught state shortly after the incident in Via Santamaura.”
    “A parallel to this street.” Bora closed the window. Facing the room, he stared at Magda’s undone bed, and then away from it. “What was he doing there?”
    “Throwing up by the open market’s garbage cans. But I should add he lives on Piazzale degli Eroi, not far from here.”
    “Does he realize you’re on to him?”
    “We’ve been good about playing the accident card. Merlo might suspect there’s an investigation, but he doesn’t know for sure. More importantly, he doesn’t know me. As long as the official word holds, he’ll have no real reason to watch his step.”
    “Why not call him in and straighten things out at once?”
    Guidi remembered how Bora asked questions for the sake of being provocative. “Clearly not even Caruso wants to touch this one directly. Though he may take it from his wife, Merlo has a reputation for vindictiveness with political enemies.”
    “Ah. Not to speak of what he’d do to you. I get it. Anyway, tomorrow night we’ll have a chance to see him at the theater. It’s a command performance, and he’ll be there.”
    Bora did not follow when Guidi went looking through the rest of the apartment, three rooms in all. At Guidi’s return, he was sitting at the foot of the girl’s bed, weary or melancholy, or unwell. Likely to avoid questions about himself, he came to his feet at once. “Let’s go,” he snapped, “I can’t stay here all day.” As they faced each other in the narrow elevator, however, Bora said without prompting, “The gossip is that she begansecretarial work in Stuttgart. She was from Renningen, nearby. Was attached to the German Olympic Committee in ’36, took on with a foreign athlete, and there were consequences to the relationship. It appears she was briefly married to an army photographer, served with army headquarters, and after a legal separation managed to find a post with the German embassy in Paris. She’d been in Rome six months, and apparently liked it very well. ‘Fun-loving’ they told me. No more than a social drinker, not much more than an easy lay.”
    Guidi had not expected the intervention. “But of course,” he thought he should say, “you heard all this from men.”
    “No.” They had reached the ground