Free Uniform Justice by Donna Leon

need. All he had to do was hear one of Paola’s friends go on about her delicate digestion and how she couldn’t even bear to buy vegetables that had been displayed next to garlic, and the story came to mind. He remembered, years ago, sitting across the table from a man who told the other guests how impossible it was for him to eat any meat that had not come from his own butcher, that he could taste the difference in quality instantly. When the man finished the story, and after he had received the required accolade for his delicacy of palate, Brunetti had told the story of the dog.
    He cut through to Campo San Fantin and stopped in a bar for two
tramezzini
and a glass of white wine. While he was there, an attractive dark-haired woman came in for a coffee wearing a tight leopard-patterned coat and an outrageous black hat that looked like a black pizza balanced on a skullcap. He studied her for a moment as she sipped at her coffee; indeed, he joined every man in the bar in studying her. All of them, he concluded, joined with him in giving thanks that she had come in to lift their hearts and brighten their day.
    Cheered by having seen her, he left the bar and walked back to the Questura. As he entered his office, he saw a folder lying on his desk, and when he opened it he was astonished to discover the autopsy report on Ernesto Moro. His immediate reaction was to wonder what Venturi was up to, what manoeuvre or power play he might be involved in and against whom. His speed in having performed the autopsy could be explained only as an attempt to win Brunetti’s favour, and that favour could be of use to the pathologist only if he were planning to move against some rival or perceived rival in either the police or the medical system.
    Brunetti refused to speculate further about Venturi’s motives and directed his attention to the report. Ernesto Moro had been in excellent health at the time of his death, entirely free of any sign of disease, not a single cavity in his teeth, though there was evidence of previous orthodontic work. His left leg had been broken in the past, perhaps as long as ten years ago, but had healed completely; tonsils and appendix were still present.
    The cause of death was strangulation. There was no way to judge how far his body had fallen before the noose had tightened around his throat, but it had not been sufficient to break his neck, so the boy had strangled to death. It had not been, Venturi stated, a quick process: the rope had caused extensive bruising of the front and right side of his neck. This suggested that his last moments had been spent in instinctive convulsions against the tightening cord. There followed the exact dimensions of the shower stall in which his body had been found and the possible extension of arms as long as his. Brunetti thought of those sweeping marks on the wall of the shower.
    From the evidence of the food in the boy’s stomach, it was likely that he had died some time between midnight and three in the morning. There was no evidence of drug use, and it seemed that he had consumed only a moderate amount of wine with his last meal, probably no more than one glass and certainly not enough to cloud his judgement in any way.
    Brunetti put the papers back in the folder and left it lying open on his desk. The report said everything just as it said nothing. He tried to subtract the knowledge that Signora Moro had been shot and view her son’s death as a separate event. The obvious possible motives were thus some disappointment the boy had suffered or the desire to pay someone back for a perceived injury . Once the mother was put back into the equation, the possible motives expanded exponentially. Instead of being viewed as the prime mover in the action, the boy became a means and some other person the mover.
    Following this filament of vague speculation, Brunetti saw that the mother’s survival suggested she was not the prime target, which left Moro himself. But even that, he