Free The Marshal at the Villa Torrini by Magdalen Nabb Page A

smiling faces.
    Signorina Müller's chipmunk teeth were in full festive view: 'Out for a stroll! Good! We haven't much time, ourselves. Got a minibus waiting over at the Excelsior car park to take us up to the Certosa. I suppose you've seen the Pontormo frescoes a hundred times or I'd invite you. This is Marshal Guarnaccia. Can't get him interested in silver, but he's very fond of paintings. He's at the Palazzo Pitti. Now: this is Professore Tomimoto of Kyoto University.'
    In stunned silence the Marshal held out his hand.
    Professore Tomimoto, ignoring it, bowed.
    'And Professoressa Kametsu.'
    The Marshal's hand wavered and withdrew.
    Professoressa Kametsu bowed.
    'And their students.' The students bowed and smiled.
    'Delighted to see you getting some air, Marshal. How did you like the book?'
    'Ah . . .'
    'A brilliant writer. We shall miss her. Spoken to the girl?'
    He had to think a moment before he got there. 'The daughter? No, not yet.'
    'She should be here. Have to come to the funeral. You come back and see me. There are things I'd like to talk to you about. Must get on.'
    She got on, stumping along on her heavily-shod feet. The professors and their students all bowed courteously and got on, too.
    The Marshal, watching them go, thought that sometimes she must fall asleep during these outings, perhaps in front of a painting, perhaps even at the traffic lights, but that those polite people would never mention it.
    He hadn't, he recalled, asked for any advice about Signorina Müller from the Captain who was always more dismayed by bullying old ladies than he was. Besides, he fancied he was beginning to like her. Before leaving the bridge, he gave a hopeful glance upriver in search of the purplish blue stripe that formed across the horizon when the mountain wind was on its way. Nothing. The ochres and reds of the Ponte Vecchio were muted, the hills beyond screened by mist. Well, as long as it arrived before he caught the 'flu. He'd been lucky up to now, he'd escaped with only a heavy cold at the end of November. Unconsciously, he quickened his pace as though to prevent the virus from catching up with him.
    *
    'Just don't imagine he's angry with you, even when that's the way it looks.'
    The Marshal had left his young brigadier, Lorenzini, in charge of his office, and at five o'clock he was in there talking. The Marshal hesitated at the door, not sure whether he was on the phone or had somebody with him, not wanting to interrupt if he could help it. There was definitely somebody in there, but so quietly spoken he could only hear a faint murmur of distress without distinguishing the words.
    Lorenzini sounded sympathetic. 'I know, I know, but it's nothing personal. He gets like that and there's no point in telling him because he doesn't hear, let alone answer.'
    More murmurs of distress. The Marshal took his glasses out and gave them a rub before slipping them back into his pocket. A coffee wouldn't come amiss when Lorenzini had got rid of whoever was in there.
    'I'm sure you have—and the other thing is, that when it passes off there's still no point in talking to him about it because he can't remember and wouldn't believe you. You just go about your business—and keep your eyes open because, however much he seems to be bumbling about . . . I was going to say he knows what he's doing, but of course he doesn't. Only he'll do it. And you might learn something even without the aid of the spoken word. And cheer up! It's better than being stuck inside all day, isn't it?'
    A great talker, Lorenzini. Good at dealing with people, especially foreigners . . . knew a fair bit of English, too . . .
    The Marshal showed his face at the duty room door.
    'Everything all right?'
    'Fine.' Di Nuccio was alone at the radio switchboard.
    'Where's young Fara?'
    'In with Lorenzini, won't be long.'
    'Oh . . . ? Ah, here he is.'
    Fara's face turned beet red when he saw the Marshal, who stepped back to let him into the duty room and at once turned away