Free The Girl of his Dreams - Brunetti 17 by Donna Leon

then it turns out to be the best.'
    Brunetti let some time pass then said, 'I'm not sure I follow you, Padre.'
    'If we were lucky, then all we'll have is good memories and not painful ones. I think it's easier to let someone go when that's true. And we usually have good memories of a mother. If we're luckier still, we were good to them and don't have anything to reproach ourselves with: often, that's so.' When Brunetti did not speak, he asked, 'Were you good to yours?'
    Brunetti, having deceived this man about Antonin, owed him the truth at least about this, and so he said, 'Yes. I was good to her. But now that she's gone, I keep thinking that I wasn't good enough.'
    The priest smiled again and said, 'Oh, we're never good enough to anyone, are we?'
    Brunetti restrained the impulse to put his hand on the old man's arm. Instead, he asked, 'Am I correct in thinking that you have some reservations about Antonin, Padre?' Before the priest could answer, Brunetti said, 'I'm sorry if I put it that way: I don't want to create an awkward situation for you. You don't have to answer: it's none of my business, really'
    The priest thought this over and then surprised
    Brunetti by saying, If I have any reservations, my son, it's about you and why you're trying so hard to disguise this interrogation.' He smiled, as if to sweeten his words, then added, 'You ask questions about him, but it seems to me that you've already made up your mind about him.'
    After a brief pause the old man went on. 'You seem like an honest man, so it confuses me that you come here and ask about him in this way, with a suspicion you try to hide.' Almost as if a light had been turned on behind them, the priest's eyes had taken on a new intensity. 'May I ask you one thing, my son?'
    'Of course,' Brunetti answered, meeting the old man's eyes but wanting to look away.
    'You don't come from Rome, do you?'
    Given that they were carrying on the conversation in Veneziano, the question puzzled Brunetti, who replied, 'No, of course not. I'm Venetian. Like you.'
    The priest smiled, either at Brunetti's claim or at the intensity of it.
    'No, I don't mean that, my son. I hear it in every word you say. I mean do you represent Rome?'
    'You mean the government?' Brunetti asked, confused.
    It took the priest some time before he said, 'No, the Church.'
    'Me?' Brunetti asked, scandalized.
    The old priest smiled, gave a snort of laughter, tried to stifle the sound, but then gave in and put his head back and started to laugh. The sound was remarkably deep, like water running in a far-off pipe. He leaned across and patted Brunetti's knee, still laughing, then fought for a moment until he could control himself. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my son,' he said at last, then pulled up the bottom of his scapular and wiped tears from his eyes. 'But you do have the air of a policeman, so I thought you might be from them.'
    ‘I am a policeman,' Brunetti said, 'but a real one.'
    For some reason, this set the priest laughing again, and it was some time before he stopped, and more time before Brunetti had explained fully the reason for his curiosity about Antonin. Brunetti realized he was now just as curious about the reason for the old priest's suspicions of him as he was about Antonin.
    A comfortable silence fell between them after Brunetti had stopped speaking, until finally the old man said, 'He is a guest in my home, and so I have towards him the obligation of a host.' From the way the priest spoke, Brunetti had no doubt that he would defend his guest with his life, should that be necessary. 'He was sent back from Africa amidst circumstances which were not made clear. The official documents I received telling me that Padre Antonin' - Brunetti was conscious of the warmth with which the old man now used the first name - 'would be my guest made it clear that he is considered to be in disgrace by the people who sent him.'
    He paused, as if inviting questions. When Brunetti asked none, he went on. 'He has