Doctored Evidence by Donna Leon Read Free Book Online

cosmetics and some batteries for my Discman; some other things but I don’t remember what they were. I recall that, when I took the money out to give it to her, I kept some of the bills – it was all in one hundred notes – then gave her the rest.’ She thought back to the scene, tried to recall if she had counted the money when she got home. ‘No, I don’t remember exactly, but it must have been six or seven hundred Euros.’
    â€˜You’re a very generous woman, Signora,’ he said and smiled.
    From Scarpa, she realized, the words would have been a sarcastic declaration of disbelief; from this man, they were a simple compliment and she felt flattered by his praise. ‘I don’t know why I did it,’ Signora Gismondi said. ‘She was out there in the street, wearing some sort of housedress made out of synthetic fabric, and canvas gym shoes. I remember one of them had a tear on the side. And she’d been working for her for months. I’m not sure exactly when she started, but I know she came when the windows were still closed.’
    He smiled. ‘That’s a strange way to date things, Signora.’
    â€˜Not if you lived near her,’ she said with some vehemence. Seeing his confusion, she said, ‘The television. It’s always on, all day long and all night long. During the winter, when we all have our windows closed, it’s not so bad. But in the summer, from about May until September, it’s enough to make me crazy. My windows are directly opposite hers, you see. She keeps it on all night, so loud I’ve had to call the police.’ She realized the tense she was using and said only, ‘Kept.’
    He shook his head in sympathetic understanding, as would any Venetian, citizen of a city with some of the narrowest streets and one of the oldest populations in Europe.
    Encouraged by this, she went on. ‘I used to call you, that is, call the police and complain about it, but no one ever did anything. But then, last summer, one of the men I talked to said Ishould call the firemen. But when I did, they said they couldn’t come just for the noise, not unless there was some danger or there was an emergency.’ Brunetti’s nod suggested that he found her explanation interesting.
    â€˜So if she left it on, even if I could see her asleep in her bed – I can see her bed from my own bedroom window,’ she added parenthetically, unable to stop herself using the present tense – ‘I’d call the firemen and say I couldn’t see her and . . .’ her voice took on the robotic sound of someone reading from a prepared text, ‘and was afraid that something had happened to her.’ She looked up, grinned, and then grinned even more broadly when she saw his own smile of understanding. ‘And then they were obliged by law to come.’
    Suddenly sobered by the return of reality, she added, ‘And now something awful
has
happened to her.’
    â€˜Yes,’ Brunetti said. ‘It has.’
    Silence fell between them until finally he asked, ‘Could you tell me more about this woman called Flori? Did you ever learn her surname?’
    â€˜No, no. I didn’t,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t like that at all, not as though we’d ever been introduced. It’s just that we saw one another at the window every so often, and, the way one does, we smiled and said hello, and then I asked how she was or she asked me. And then we’d talk. Not about anything at all, just to say hello.’
    â€˜Did she ever say anything about SignoraBattestini?’ he asked, his words revealing only curiosity, not suspicion.
    â€˜Well,’ Signora Gismondi revealed, ‘I had a pretty good idea of what sort of person she was. You know how it is in a neighbourhood: everyone knows everyone else’s business, and I knew people didn’t like her very much. And she’d had that television on for