by Неизвестный
She knew she could not touch other artists’ tools, and I don’t think she did the day she was sick in my uncle’s studio "
Nino looked at him with the same, straight gaze.
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"Charlize was in my uncle’s studio, of course, when she was sick, but just minutes before and she talked to uncle Davide, she hadn’t yet touched his work or anything else. He told me she knocked, went in and said hello. While he showed her the painting he was working at, she began to gasp and only said "Do you use pine essence here?"
"Sometimes, even a tiny percentage of a component can trigger a strong attack, if the allergy is severe.
Perhaps she just breathed it... "
"And here’s the odd thing: uncle Davide says he checked his solvents and pine essence is nowhere”
"Maybe she was allergic to something else, or had some kind of contact before going to your uncle’s room. Allergies can occur several hours after touching or breathing the material "
Ascanio took a deep breath, he knew he had to say something important.
And terrible.
"Yes, but in that case the murderer had to wait for her to die, to bring her into the woods."
"Or he found her dead and panicked" Nino said, but he knew there was no chance
Of course it was strange: an accidental death, covered with a useless concealment of a corpse, so well done, with that attention to the body and ...
"Ascanio, who knew, besides you, of the allergy?"
"Well, I guess no one"
"To use that attention to the body’s pose, it must have been someone that lo…liked her"
Ascanio smiled.
"….loved her, you were about to say ... it’s ok, I know she was not in love with me.
Yes, it could be someone she met before she left for Venice.
She didn’t say yes to my proposal, after all, and there had to be a reason "
"Did she reject you? And how come your mother gave her your family ring? "
"I think to convince her, that ring is beautiful and valuable, but she never wore it and left it home ..."
"Your mother thought she could be dazzled by your money"
Ascanio laughed, an ironic, sad giggle.
"Money? It’s no secret my family only has my mom’s title. No, I think it was a little rough way to help me "
"Does she think you’re not able to find a wife yourself?"
Ascanio smiled.
"Oh, no, she met many women who were eager to marry me. She obviously liked none of them. Not that I introduced them, but when I lived here, she snooped about and, once she knew their names, she began a series of rumors, in the evening when I was back from my dates, that slowly undermined my confidence in them "
He smiled again; he didn’t seem to resent his intrusive mother, indeed, he seemed to find it funny.
"Your mother told me she did not like guests and Charlize staying for a whole week was too much.
Why was she pushing Charlize to be part of your family, when she did not like her, even as a guest? "
"One day I heard them arguing; they were quite altered and then I heard Charlize saying 'don’t worry Duchess, I’m not interested in upsetting your plans'.
My mother hates to be called Duchess, I think from there she began to hate her.
One day she fired a gardener because he called her duchessa; nowadays it’s better not to attract the wrong kind of attention.
I do not know why she made that offer, but Charlize told me she had to leave because my mother was pressing her "
"And?"
Ascanio remained silent.
"Being a parent" Nino said "you make mistakes and being indifferent doesn’t protect you from making them. We can love too much, or too little, errors are many.
Your mother's just trying to protect herself and you. She felt hurt in the past and sees a threat wherever we see none.
You must be the one to calm her "
"Yes, that's what I do. I’ve been doing it for years "
Ascanio used a weary tone, as if his mother had dried him up.
Nino smiled.
"How do you feel?"
"She didn’t steal anything off me" he said without emotion "I loved and lost.
It’s life "
Nino looked at him: how Charlize could possibly love such a colorless man….
There had to be someone else who kept her here a whole week.
September 24th
Bertoli entered the police station puffing: he was drenched in rain and, while walking through the hall to reach his office, he was leaving a wet track.
"Colantonio!" he yelled, slamming his jacket on the table
A tall, dark haired man came immediately.
"Here I am" Colantonio replied
Cesare Colantonio was the receptionist and the only one who could understand what the commissario wanted by following his tone of voice; so, as Bertoli entered while it was pouring out, Colantonio ran in with dry clothes.
"E bravo Colantonio!" Bertoli said smiling
"Thank you, Commissario" he said proudly, like every time Bertoli used the word bravo near his name
Bertoli couldn’t hold his gruffly gaze with that young agent; he just smiled and thanked him.
Then he looked at him standing motionless at the center of the room.
"Eh ... Colantonio ... are you staying to watch me undress?"
The agent shook his head.
"Oh, no, no ... sorry" he said, turning
Bertoli was about to lose patience.
"Colantoniooo! I meant go! "
"Forgive me commissario" Colantonio said staying immobile "but there's a young lady who asked to meet you, a very personable young lady I must add"
"Colantonio!... it’s not necessary to be specific about certain things" he said trying to hold back a laugh "let her in, but give me five minutes"
"Yes sir, Commissario"
The receptionist went out, only to reappear exactly five minutes later, with the attractive young lady.
"Please" Bertoli said, inviting her to sit down with a wave of his hand.
He was slightly surprised: he usually didn’t listen to Colantonio’s remarks, but he had to admit he didn’t overstate the lady’s beauty, this time.
"Hello, my name is Madeleine Darlington, Charlize’s cousin"
Madeleine was tall, blond and with short hair and big, brown eyes; Bertoli noticed her blouse was open to the middle of her breasts, which were not supported by underwear so that whatever movement the woman made, people could show more than what was lecit.
"Sit down" he said, looking down.
Madeleine sat down and closed her blouse, which had in the meantime showed more than necessary; she made that gesture only great seducers do well, a light touch to the hem, to emphasize the cheeky look was welcome, then insincerely did up the buttons loosy enough they would come open again.
But Bertoli was a gentleman, after all, and he didn’t let gaze slip there twice, while Madeleine realized she was in front of a honorable man and relaxed, using less blatant weapons.
"Commissario, I’m here cause I’ve been called, but don’t really know what I could say about her"
"Don’t worry, just answer my questions truthfully and we'll see if your answers will be helpful. I really don’t know where to look: your cousin was visiting a very well known family and had no other friends.
We think we should look for the murderer by looking at relationships she had before coming here"
Madeleine gasped and Bertoli stopped, looking surprised.
"Excuse me, hearing about my cousin as the character in a crime story makes me feel weird.
But I understand that to you, she is a case to be solved "
"No, I am sorry" said Bertoli a little confused
Madeleine took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair, then bent her torso slightly to the right, then left.
"Forgive me,” she said sweetly “but I traveled
from Venice to here and I feel like my whole body is still asleep"
Bertoli noticed she was very thin, in shape and dressed in discreet elegance.
"Miss Darlington, you and your cousin were friends?"
"Not exactly.
She called me a few weeks ago, telling me she was coming to Italy. She said she was staying at a friend’s villa, a friend she had met on the plane last time she was here "
"And did she talk to you about the family hosting her?"
"Oh, no, and I didn’t ask, because it was not the first time she got engaged for few weeks, speaking as though she was getting married soon; it was her way to fight stress.
Hers was a strange family.
Her father married twice, first to an Italian; but things went bad and he moved to America "
"Her father is Italian? And where does Von Berger come from? "
"Charlize took her mom’s name, she had a horrible fight with her dad, something they reconciled only when he was near to death" she purred
"Is he dead?"
"Yes, about six months ago.
Charlize was an only child and lost her mom two years before. "
"How are you related?"
"My mother is her mother’s sister"
Madeleine relaxed back in her chair, glancing seductively at Bertoli.
"You should think better questions than these, or are you just want me as long as possible?" she said
Bertoli was not one to bear irony, even from a beautiful woman.
"Did you kill your cousin?"
Madeleine lost her cheeky and charming attitude.
She looked at him severely, but only for a moment.
"I had no reason" she said "Charlize was absolutely irrelevant to my family: an awkward little girl from the suburbs, I could not be jealous of her even if she tried to seduce my husband"
"Did she?"
Madeleine chuckled.
"No, of course not"
"And why do you think I was referring to your jealousy?"
"Charlize called me on Friday, to tell me she had to meet me sooner than expected, because she had made a mess, so she said, and it was better for her to disappear for a while "
"Did you ask her about?"
"Yes, I asked her ‘what kind of mess?’ and she replied 'men'; nothing more, and I, frankly, was not interested"
Bertoli sighed: a beautiful woman found dead in the woods, no family, no ties and not a damn clue to lead him to the murderer.
"Can I go? Can we get a drink together? " Madeleine said, narrowing her eyes for a moment
Bertoli looked at the agent who was typing Madeleine’s deposition: Francesco Gautieri, who looked down and chuckled to himself.
"No, but Gautieri will be happy to take you wherever you want to rest before going back to Venice"
Gautieri looked terrified: he was not comfortable with high society, he was certainly going to look bad, he thought.
"Don’t you want to take me out?" she murmured
Bertoli was about to burst: he liked to lead and a seductive woman was only irritating.
Not exactly the response the woman wanted.
"Miss Darlington, if you’re still trying to bait me, I’ll investigate you formally and I’ll slam you in jail"
The look of the frightened woman was what he needed: almost no one knew what the real rules of policy were and he, occasionally, enjoyed making people believe they were like in a crime movie and can do everything.
Madeleine got up and, looking down, she turned towards the door.
But suddenly she turned to the Commissario and, in doing so, she let her blouse do the work it was there to do, without even pretending to close it.
"Commissario, do you think you scared me? I was just teasing"
Then she turned and walked out.
Bertoli looked at Gautieri, who was trying not to move a muscle.
"Gautieri, stop looking at me like you never saw a boss drool"
Then he laughed along with his agent and sat down to read the declaration.
September 25th
Nino was drinking his coffee in the big kitchen: he loved that house, bought just for being in front of his parent’s house, but soon become his family nest
It was a beautiful northern Italian villa, with a small green area on the front and a garden behind that his wife loved to take care of.
In the summer they were often dining and spending time together with their families, doing nothing but enjoying nature and the sun.
September painted the garden in reds and yellows and Nino marveled how much imagination nature has: in his garden there were all the forest shades one could think of.
Colors that the queen of the woods loves.
Woodcocks tend to go up, so it’s better to have Mark below, not above him, with rare exceptions.
He had seen her change strategy so many times that he knew he could not ever trust his experience, if not in regard to mastery of patience and action, a mix of which led him at times to win the game.
French call the woodcock 'sorcière', witch, because it binds you with a spell and enchants you for life.
He didn’t mind those who asked him why he went in the woods in bad weather, or persisted hunting such a hard prey.
They cannot understand, he concluded every time, like no one understands true love, even if we all experience it; we never recognize it when in someone else’s heart and we fool others, telling them it doesn’t exist, while what doesn’t exist is our surrender to a mystery, a greatness who can maybe fool us, cut our soul, cast a spell on us and shows weapons we’ll never possess. .
He looked at the papers: cause of death: cardiac arrest.
He put them down, annoyed.
Why did someone bring her into the woods if she died naturally?
The human soul has many fears, but all can be traced back to a single desire, that makes us all choose different ways: to possess happiness.
But happiness can’t be owned, the moment you want to control it, it fades away and we fight, we cry to have it back, no matter in which shape
But some of us fight for too long, seeing things not going as they’d like and they have the perception of a life they can’t catch; ineptitude, talents, mismanagement….who knows what.
Some of us hope to find it in material things, some in emotions, relationships, but we all lose happiness searching in places we won’t find it.
We believe in an illusion that scares happiness away, leaving in its place an angry delusion.
So they slip into a pretend life, deceiving those nearby, keeping up an appearance that hides pain and frustration.
In this subtle comedy become drama, some get themselves in situations from which they don’t know how to get out.
The only teacher of the soul is disease, which levels dreams and hopes and forces everyone to look inward, good or bad as it may be.
He had seen different reactions in patients: there were those who ran to his office for nothing, in panic for a bad back, or who could not stand natural menopause, or advancing age.
He loved to affectionately tease these people, always saying that the alternative to aging is something no one wants to experience, like Paradise, that everyone wants to see, but nobody wants to die to see it.
These patients agreed with him, but returned a few days later, for a pain in the arm or hot flashes.
He had also seen people react differently to diseases our time has made so familiar, those that suck life out of people.
Even for a doctor it’s not easy and Nino saw patients coming in with eyes with eyes a mixture of pain and hope; he knew they were expecting a word, a look, telling them that, only in their case, perhaps, illness had quieted, leaving them alone.
He saw that fair and resigned light, in those eyes, those who have always known that we are destined to leave this world, but heard it too soon.
Then there were the elderlies, those who have lived all their life, but have reached an age that does not leave
room for the future, if not for the hope their legs will keep working, or they won’t die alone.
And everyone looked at him with the devoted mirage doctors have the odd power, a mission from God to heal everyone.
Instead, he knew that beyond its category’s pride, beyond that austere walk some of his colleagues use in hospitals, they had no arcane seals, that cold manner they had to take revealed all doctors find themselves, sooner or later, in front of the impalpable, that fine line flapping them down from the illusion they could save everybody, choosing how and who.
He, too, faced the illness of his loved ones, he had to give up on hope where medicine has not given men the freedom to choose.
His mind went back to the woman of the woods: Charlize had become a problem for someone: she was not blackmailing, accepting expensive gifts, causing trouble with uncomfortable truths.
What could she have done apart from loving someone too much, or saying no?
September 26th
In his practice, Nino saw women of all types, but never like the one that came in that day.
"Dottor Canali, good morning" he heard
"Sit down" said Nino watching the empty chair in front of him; so he used to, as of the large number of patients he met every day; the door, which some jerk had put behind his desk, would give him a stiff neck if he turned every time.
Sure, he could move the desk under the window in front of the door, but those offices were not made for damp and cold winters, and humid, muggy summers of his hometown: putting anything under a window meant, at those latitudes, ignoble drafts, harbingers of equally despicable joint pains in winter and scorching summer discomfort.
So, the desk was still leaning against the wall in the only decent place, but with a door behind him, that Nino never turned to.
But he regretted not having done so that day, when he saw Madeleine Darlington sitting down in front of him.
Madeleine smiled and reached for the doctor, but withdrew, immediately frozen at Nino’s formality; even in the face of a beautiful woman, he had a clear idea of the distance to keep between doctor and patient.
"Excuse me, I always go to doctors who know me well" she said, trying to look smart
