Free The Innocent by Magdalen Nabb Page A

Goodbye.’
    The marshal replaced his hat and glasses and went out. His driver wound the window down.
    ‘No, no … take the car back. I want a word with a few of the people here and then I’ll walk. It’s only a couple of minutes. Do me a favour and let my wife know I’ll be late.’
    The car moved off slowly through the narrow space filled with pedestrians.
    ‘Lapo!’
    ‘Oh, Marshal! Come and sit down. Come on! You can’t say no today. Sandra’s made a pollo alla cacciatore that’s out of this world. Sit here where I can talk to you.’
    ‘You’re busy …’
    ‘Don’t worry—Sonia! Come and say hello to the marshal!’
    Lapo’s daughter, Sonia, was very plump and looked older than her sixteen years but she was pretty, her skin clear and rosy. She shook his hand.
    ‘Take over here, Sonia. Let me have a chat with the marshal—and bring Santini some more bread with his chicken.’
    When she’d gone in, he said, ‘There’s no “table number two” and “table number four” here. I know my customers and they all have their regular places and their regular times.’ This with a black look in the direction of his rival over the hedge. ‘What do you think of my daughter, eh?
    Is she a treasure or isn’t she? There aren’t many like her these days. We’re lucky.’
    ‘That’s true.’
    ‘They all want to go to university, whether they’ve the brains for it or not. And none of them want to work hard or dirty their hands. And where’s it going to end? Have a glass of red with me.’
    ‘No, no … on an empty stomach …’
    ‘You’re right. I eat before we open.’ Lapo blocked Sonia as she passed carrying a plate of chicken in a glistening tomato sauce and a basket of bread. ‘Leave this bread for the marshal so he can have a drop of wine with me while he’s thinking what to eat and get some more for Santini.’ He waved the basket at the young restorer at the far table.
    ‘Sorry! She’ll bring yours right away.’
    Santini raised his glass in salute and grinned. The marshal nodded. ‘That’s a talented lad.’
    ‘You’re right there,’ Lapo agreed. ‘But he’ll never make any money. He spends weeks restoring those old kitchen cupboards with the painted flowers on them that he buys up north and then sells them for half what they’re worth. He always says he just enjoys doing his work and if he keeps things hanging around with a high price on them he’ll have no room for new stuff to buy and work on. Good health, Marshal.’
    Sunlight splashed through their glasses to make two wine-coloured spots dance on the white paper covering the table. The bread was crusty and fresh, and that chicken smelled so good …
    ‘What were you doing at Peruzzi’s place? He’s at the hospital today for an ECG.’
    ‘So I heard. I went in to ask him about a shoe we found.
    It belongs to somebody we’re trying to identify—I’ll tell you about that in a minute, if you haven’t already seen it in the paper.’
    ‘Not me. Politics only. And I can tell you that these elections—’
    ‘Yes. I know how involved you are but I need to know about Peruzzi.’ And the last thing he needed was for Lapo to start sounding off about politics. ‘There’s an apprentice there …’
    ‘Issino? He’s a good lad. A treasure. Bit funny till you get used to his ways—you know how the Japanese are.’
    ‘Careful.’
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘I’ve never yet had a Japanese tourist in my office whose lost his camera or had his pocket picked. There was a stabbing once that involved a Japanese journalist and a band of gypsy children. Stabbed him in the leg near the station but we only found out by accident because he got his train to the airport and left for Japan, bandaged up with his own first aid kit. He fainted at the airport and one of our men got the story out of him so it got around, but there was no stopping him getting on that plane.’
    ‘I can’t say I blame him.’
    ‘No. But what I mean is I never come across