The Rainaldi Quartet Read Online Free Page B

discomfort for he didn’t press me further, just led me out into the courtyard.
    â€˜It was worth a try,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry to have brought you all the way in for nothing.’
    â€˜That’s all right. I was going to come in to visit Clara in any case.’
    â€˜Let’s go together. I need to talk to her. She might find it easier if you’re there too.’
    I looked at him. ‘She was in a bad way last night.’
    â€˜I won’t push her, Gianni. But the sooner I talk to her, the sooner we get a clearer picture of what happened. These first few hours are important in a case like this.’
    It was Giulia who answered the door. Her face was pale, taut. She seemed relieved to see us.
    â€˜Come in.’
    â€˜How is your mother?’ I said.
    Giulia showed us through into the kitchen at the rear of the house and only when the door was closed behind us did she answer.
    â€˜Not good.’
    â€˜Has she slept?’ I asked.
    â€˜She dozed off for a while near dawn, but she’s awake again now. She’s exhausted, but too upset to sleep.’
    â€˜You should call a doctor,’ Guastafeste said. ‘He could give her a sedative, something to help her.’
    Giulia nodded. ‘I think I may have to do that.’
    â€˜And you?’ I said.
    â€˜I’m all right. I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet. It’s Mama that worries me. She doesn’t even want to talk. She’s withdrawn into herself. Won’t go to bed, won’t have any breakfast.’ She looked at Guastafeste. ‘Do you have any idea who did it?’
    â€˜Not yet,’ Guastafeste replied. ‘I was hoping to ask your mother some questions, but perhaps she’s not up to it at the moment.’
    â€˜No, talking might help her. She’s just sitting in an armchair, staring into space. Why don’t you go through? I’ll bring you all some coffee.’
    â€˜We don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ I said.
    â€˜It’s no trouble.’
    Giulia went to the cupboard, took out a steel espresso pot and busied herself with making coffee. I sensed it was a comfort to her, focusing on the minutiae of life to help erase the magnitude of death.
    Guastafeste and I went back down the hall and into the sitting room. Clara was in the armchair in the corner behind the door, the gloomiest part of the room where even the brightest sunshine rarely penetrated. I was shocked by her appearance. It was only a few hours since I had last seen her, yet she seemed to have shrunk. Hunched in her chair, her head tilted to one side as if she lacked the strength to hold it up, she seemed a decade older than when I had been here last night. The skin of her face had tightened, the lines become more pronounced. Her eyes were hollow, the sockets so dark they looked as if they had been rimmed with coal dust.
    â€˜Clara,’ I said gently. ‘Clara, it’s me, Gianni.’
    She glanced up and her eyes seemed to brighten for an instant, then she looked away, relapsing back into her own dark solitude.
    I took her hands. ‘Clara, Antonio wants to talk to you. About Tomaso.’
    She didn’t meet my gaze. ‘What does it matter?’ she said listlessly. ‘He’s dead.’
    I remembered my own grief when my wife died, the overwhelming feeling of desolation, of utter hopelessness so intense it was hard to motivate myself to do anything. I knew it was important to maintain a semblance of normality, to find something with which to distract Clara – to keep the demons at bay.
    â€˜It’s important,’ I said. ‘You may be able to help.’
    â€˜Help?’ Clara said vaguely.
    â€˜We need you, Clara. Antonio’s working on the case. You know you can trust him.’
    â€˜Do you feel able to answer some questions?’ Guastafeste said.
    She turned her head, blinking at him as if she had only just become aware of