Death in Tuscany (11 page)

'Good afternoon, Signora Giulietti,' he said, sitting down in front of the imposing narrow walnut desk with its gently rounded edges and its elegant Z-shaped decorations. It was a fine Art Nouveau piece - designed by Van de Velde, she had told him proudly the first time he had complimented her on it - inherited from her grandfather, who had been a notary. She had brought it here from her home in an attempt to make her office a little less anonymous: an attempt echoed today by a colourful bunch of gladioli and lupins in a crystal vase on the windowsill.

Are they from an admirer,' he asked, 'or was someone trying to bribe you?'

'Don't joke about it. You know perfectly well I don't have a private life. They're from the florists below my apartment, and I paid good money for them.'

There wasn't a trace of sadness in these words, but they were indicative of a solitude which would have been incomprehensible in a woman who was still youthful, beautiful and rich, and belonged to an old and illustrious Florentine family, if she herself had not told him how her profession was everything to her and gave her all the satisfaction she needed in life.

'So, to business,' she continued.

All right, Anna.'

She glared at him because of his informality. 'I made a few discreet phone calls last night, and now I know everything.'

'Lucky you. I find that the further I go the more I seem to be in the dark. How much can you tell me of what you know?'

'Enough. But first I need to ask you some questions.' 'Go ahead.'

'As you know, I've been asked to oversee the case of the young prostitute who died on August second at the Ospedale Nuovo. I've been told that you're very keen to see it through.'

Ferrara merely nodded. Again the girl was being referred to as a prostitute.

'Could you tell me how far you've got?'

'To be blunt, Signora Giulietti, I still have a long way to go. She was a young girl, almost a child, and we have to take that into account.'

A child? No one told me that. How old, exactly?'

'No one knows, exactly. But between thirteen and fifteen, sixteen at the most.'

Anna looked angry for a moment, although it wasn't clear who with.

'We haven't yet managed to establish her identity,' Ferrara went on. 'That's why we're leaning towards the theory that she was an illegal immigrant. We still don't know if she was in fact a prostitute. The cause of death was almost certainly a heroin overdose, but we still don't know how she came to take it.'

And is that why your report suggests homicide as a consequence of the administration of drugs, according to article 586 of the penal code?'

'That's our preliminary suggestion, yes. I'll follow every possible lead, of course, but at the moment homicide seems the likeliest hypothesis. Both the pathologist and the head of Forensics are currently evaluating a number of elements which may indicate that the girl was raped before being killed . . .'

'Raped? A prostitute? Well, it's possible of course, but I hope you're not letting your imagination run away with you,

Chief Superintendent. However, I understand your - what shall we say? - your determination, if the poor girl really was as young as that, even if she does turn out to have been a non-Italian citizen. I understand it and I share it. Just as I appreciate the various initiatives you've already undertaken or intend to undertake, and I want you to know you can count on the total support of the Prosecutor's Department. What is not clear to us, however, is what the hospital has to with it.'

That 'us' did not pass unnoticed.

'What do you mean?' he asked.

Anna Giulietti opened the green cardboard folder she had in front of her and took out Violante's request to see the girl's medical records.

'This seems to be what's causing all the fuss. At least partly. As far as I understand it, we need to answer certain basic questions. Who was this girl, where does she come from, how did she end up where she ended up, and are any third parties directly or indirectly responsible for her death? Am I right?'

'Yes, of course, but the medical records may contain useful information.'

'On her progress while in hospital. But the crime happened
before
she got to hospital. By the time she was brought in, she'd already overdosed and was close to death, wasn't she? And she died of that overdose, you've confirmed that.'

'True, but the results of the blood test that was done soon after she was admitted may tell us a lot of things—'

'Isn't what Professor d'Incisa told you enough? Or can't you just ask him for those particular results?'

'How do you know I saw him?' Ferrara asked, angrily. Now he knew where the description of the girl had come from (Professor d'Incisa had called her a 'whore' during the autopsy). D'Incisa had complained and the complaint had reached Prosecutor Gallo, Anna's boss. And Lepri had been talking to Gallo before his outburst to Giulietti. . .

There was an amused look in Anna's bright blue eyes. 'I told you, Chief Superintendent, I've made my own inquiries. You, though, aren't telling me everything, are you?'

'The inspector who was originally following the case had the impression the hospital neglected the patient,' he admitted, 'and my conversation with the consultant confirmed that impression.'

'I thought as much. You're talking about malpractice, is that it? Do you think there are grounds for opening an inquiry?'

'No,' he had to confess. As I said, these are just impressions. But perhaps if we can obtain the medical records and find out more about what led to the overdose, we may also discover—'

Anna Giulietti sighed. 'We're talking about two different investigations, Chief Superintendent. Do you agree?' 'Yes.'

'Of the two, the first is of no great interest to anyone, except for you and now me; the mere possibility of the second has already created a fuss.'

'I don't understand.'

'So you still have no idea why the Commissioner is getting so upset?'

'Because I went to the Nuovo?'

'Doesn't matter. But who's in the hospital?'

'Professor d'Incisa?'

'Yes, but not just him. Other consultants, professors, surgeons . . .
Doctors,
Ferrara.' 'So?'

'Come on, don't play the innocent. Do I have to spell it out for you?'

The puzzlement on Ferrara's face was eloquent enough.

'Come on now! What world do you live in, Chief Superintendent?
Freemasons!
Don't tell me you don't know that in the medical profession, especially here in Florence, it's almost impossible to get anywhere in your career unless you're a member of some lodge or other, official or not!'

It might have been an exaggeration, but there was a lot of truth in it. Everyone knew that many hospital doctors were Freemasons. And that the bonds of brotherhood between them were so strong that they would help each other in secret to protect the reputation of a Mason in trouble with the authorities.

Anna Giulietti's observation moved the investigation into thorny territory. For good or ill, Freemasonry was a powerful institution, which had survived periodic persecutions and demonstrated a resilience and a tenacity capable of defying any government, since governments, by definition, were transitory. An ambiguous institution, but, as far as anyone knew, dangerous only when it deviated from the norm. Officially, it was a perfectly respectable organisation, which, over the course of its long history, had counted a large number of important figures from the political, military, artistic and cultural worlds among its members: Garibaldi, Washington, Lafayette, Beethoven, to name but a few.

His mind was working fast. 'Do you mean Lepri . . .?'

'Ferrara, are you still playing the innocent? I don't know if the Commissioner is a Mason or not, it doesn't really matter. All it takes is for those who count in medical circles to exert pressure, and for the pressure to get to Lepri, Gallo, whoever, whether they're part of the Brotherhood or not.'

'And to you, too?'

She smiled enigmatically. 'Does that matter?' she asked. As I see it, I'm doing you a favour. The message is clear: an investigation into what went on in the hospital isn't welcome. As we've established, you have two different investigations in progress. Digging in your heels over the second may compromise the first. I have good reason to believe that, if I hold off on granting this request,' she said, pointing to Violante's document, 'you'll be able to continue your investigation into the girl's death without any problems.'

Is
there a female lodge?
Ferrara wondered. He couldn't tell whether Anna Giulietti - the 'iron prosecutor' as she was known to her colleagues despite her blonde hair and blue eyes - was blackmailing him or helping him. If there was such a lodge, it was very likely, given her illustrious ancestry, that she belonged to it.

'I see,' he murmured.

'I hope so. But I haven't finished.'

'Go on.'

'If the first investigation reveals solid evidence - and I mean solid, I hope we're clear about that - that one or other of the doctors or nurses at the Ospedale Nuovo may have contributed to this patient's death, I expect you to do your duty. Then, and only then, I'll be quite happy to grant the request.'

It was still early when Ferrara left the Prosecutor's Department and hurried back to his office.

He was not at all disheartened by the line Anna Giulietti had chosen to follow. Freemasonry, inaccessible as it was, might well be a line of inquiry that was worth pursuing. He'd have to be extremely discreet, though, or he risked jeopardising his tacit pact with the deputy prosecutor. It was the kind of operation that required the offices of the incomparable Fanti, and he called him as soon as he got in.

'What is it, chief?' Fanti said, even before he had entered Ferrara's office.