Beastly Things by Donna Leon Read Free Book Online Page A

name, ‘Forgetting she’s in Rome, of course. So I asked for Vianello, and he didn’t object.’
    Calm restored, Brunetti decided to hammer it into place and asked, the idea having come to him while he was with Patta, ‘Isn’t there a new rule, some sort of statute of limitations, for students at the university?’ Even Patta did not deserve to be subjected, year after year, to the consequences of this farce.
    ‘There’s talk of changing the rules so that they have to leave after a certain time,’ she answered, ‘but I doubt that anything will come of it.’
    Talk of normal things appeared to have restored her mood; to maintain it, Brunetti asked, ‘Why?’
    She turned towards him fully and rested her chin on her hand before she answered. ‘Think about what would happen if everyone agreed to accept the obvious and hundreds of thousands of these students were sent away.’ When he did not comment, she continued. ‘They’d have to accept – and their parents would have to accept – that they are unemployed and likely to remain that way.’ Before Brunetti could speak, she voiced the argument he was about to make: ‘I know they’ve never worked, so they wouldn’t appear in the statistics as having lost their jobs. But they’d have to face the fact, as would their parents, that they’re virtually unemployable.’ Brunetti agreed with her, with a brief nod. ‘So for as long as they’re enrolled in a university, government statistics can ignore them, and they in turn can ignore the fact that they’re never going to have decent jobs.’ He thought she was finished, but she added, ‘It’s an enormous holding pool of young people who live off their parents for years and never learn a skill that would make them employable.’
    ‘Such as?’ Brunetti inquired.
    She raised her hand and ran it through her hair. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Plumbing. Carpentry. Something useful.’
    ‘Instead of?’
    ‘The son of a friend of mine has been studying Art Administration for seven years. The government cuts the budget for museums and art every year, but he’s going to get his degree in Art Administration.’
    ‘And then?’
    ‘And then he’d be lucky to get a job as a museum guard, but he’d scorn that because he’s an art administrator,’ she said . In a kinder voice, she added, ‘He’s a bright boy and loves the subject, and for all I know would be perfect for a job in a museum. Only there are not going to be any jobs.’
    Brunetti thought of his son, now in his first year, and his daughter, soon to enter the university. ‘Does this mean my children face the same future?’
    She opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself.
    ‘Go ahead,’ Brunetti said. ‘Say it.’
    He saw the moment when she decided to do so. ‘Your wife’s family will see that they’re protected, or your father-in-law’s friends will see that they’re offered jobs.’
    Brunetti realized she never would have said something like this a few years ago and probably would never have said it now had he not provoked her with his reference to Griffoni. ‘The same as with the children of any well-connected family?’ he asked.
    She nodded.
    Suddenly mindful of her politics, he asked, ‘You don’t object to this?’
    She shrugged, then said, ‘Whether I do or I don’t won’t change it.’
    ‘Did it help you get your job at the bank?’ he asked, referring to the job she had left, more than a decade ago, to come and work at the Questura, a choice no one who worked with her had ever understood.
    She lifted her chin from her hand, saying, ‘No, my father didn’t help. In fact, he didn’t want me to work in a bank at all. He tried to convince me not to do it.’
    ‘Even though he was in charge of one?’ Brunetti asked.
    ‘Exactly. He said it had shown him how soul-rotting it was to work with money and to think about money all the time.’
    ‘But you did it anyway?’ Brunetti was still surprised to be engaged in this sort of