The Marshal and the Murderer

by Magdalen Nabb

  The Marshal didn't say that he already knew something of the story. Nor did he mention that if the men of the factory had given up teasing Big Beppe, Berti hadn't. He didn't feel up to going into all that yet and there was no longer any urgency. He was sufficiently satisfied to know that after being so ambivalent for so long in his attitude to Berti he could now settle on disliking him thoroughly, though he remained fascinated by his skill in the way a bird might be fascinated by a snake.

  'Well, there it is,' concluded Niccolini, rousing himself to be cheerful again. 'I'm only glad I didn't have time to think before doing what had to be done. After all, the poor creature would otherwise have ended his days up at the villa and I think that would have broken little Moretti's heart after all he'd done to prevent it.'

  'How is he?'

  'He'll do. He has his wife and little girl and the factory to keep him busy. Of course there's still a case to answer, this business of Robiglio's money.'

  'Will it come to anything?'

  'Not if I know Robiglio. After all, Moretti only confessed to the one incident, and the money never left. Robiglio's lawyers will get him off- he's under house arrest for the moment but that character has nine lives. He got himself back in power after the war and I reckon he'll soon be strutting about the town as if nothing had happened. He'll rise to the top again, scum always does. The only consolation is that he won't be standing for election any more, not this time, at least.'

  'But there'll be a next time.'

  'Oh, there'll be a next time all right. Sooner or later we'll be blessed with him as mayor. Well, I hope I get transferred before it happens. Who's standing in for you, by the way?'

  'My brigadier can manage, he's a competent lad.'

  They chatted for a while of everyday problems but it was inevitable that their thoughts should return before long to the case that was uppermost in their minds.

  'Did you ever find the missing clothing?' the Marshal asked.

  'Not a sign. We searched Big Beppe's den but I imagine it was got rid of right away either by him or Moretti.'

  'Did her parents ever come down?'

  'No. The body leaves tomorrow by train. The Captain saw to everything from here. I gather the other lass is to travel with the body. It's been a bad shock for her, I shouldn't wonder. Was she as pretty as her friend?'

  'No, she wasn't pretty, but she struck me as a good-hearted, affectionate creature, if a bit strange.'

  He wondered where someone in her situation could turn for comfort. Probably not even to her parents from whom she had most likely hidden the truth. He thought of that young man Corsari, neither flesh nor fowl, who had made a friend of both girls. The thought gave him no pleasure.

  Niccolini, determined to keep a cheerful note, had launched into the story of another of his past conquests. He had just come to the climax of the story, his voice loud and his eyes bright, when the door burst open and an angry young nurse appeared.

  'What's going on in here? I could hear the noise from the far end of the corridor! I thought you had two minutes' business to transact.'

  'Perfectly right. All finished now. I was just leaving'

  'Do you realize that this patient has three cracked ribs, a chipped femur and a damaged throat? Not to mention shock and drowning! I must ask you to leave immediately. The doctor's on his way.' She swept out, closing the door with an angry click.

  'Beautiful girl,' remarked Niccolini, his eyes still bright. 'Plenty of spirit, too, which I always like. Is that why you're content to hang around here for another week? Well, I suppose I'd better leave you. But having come all this way to tell you what a jackass you are, I might as well tell you that I was pretty impressed as well that you got on to the truth the way you did. To be quite honest, when I first met you I thought you were going to be a dead loss. You won't be offended? I thought to myself: This chap's asleep on his feet. You give that impression -you're not offended?'

  'No, no . . .' He was a little offended. Goodness knows, he was used to it. Ever since his earliest schooldays people had got angry with him for seeming asleep on his feet. His wife often complained of it, too. But he was sorry to have made such an impression on his new friend and wished he had a quarter of his energy and cheerfulness.

  'I'm glad you came,' he told Niccolini as the latter grasped his hand and shook it vigorously, not without some ill effect on those cracked ribs.

  'You take my advice and get home as fast as you can - and take another piece of advice: don't go risking your neck like that again! It's not worth it. You'd have done nobody any good by getting yourself killed. Doing your duty's all very well but don't take it all too seriously, you've your own life to live and enjoy. Advice finished. I'm off. All the best!'

  When he had gone the room was heavy with silence and the Marshal was left to concentrate on the combined pains of his broken bones and swollen throat and a thorough dissatisfaction with himself. He'd never much minded being thought dozy before, but all of a sudden he minded it very much. Could it be a question of diet? Perhaps he ate the wrong sort of thing. His glance fell on the huge bar of chocolate on the locker beside him. It must have weighed a kilo. Sugar was probably a good thing for giving you energy. With some difficulty he managed to stretch out an arm and get hold of the chocolate. Even breaking a piece off hurt him, but he did it and settled down to munch thoughtfully. While he had so much time to spare he should make out a new plan for his life, beginning with being more careful about what he ate and an attempt at making a better impression on people by being more lively and communicative. He would start right away while he was still in the hospital. He could discuss this business of diet with the doctor, be a lot more chatty to that pretty nurse who probably thought him the dullest patient ever to be wished on her, and show a bit more interest in all the little things his wife chattered about in the hope of cheering him up.

  Ten minutes later the nurse entered followed by his wife and the doctor, and the three of them stood around his bed looking down at him. The nurse had no intention of admitting that she had let in an unlawful visitor to exhaust her patient and she was careful to say as she felt for his pulse, 'As you see, he's in much less pain today.'

  The Marshal responded with a gentle snore.