The Girl with the Crystal Eyes (23 page)

    '"The
killer in high heels",' Marconi interrupts her. He hates journalists, and
fucking press conferences - and fuck Frolli too, who made up that name to grab
the public's attention.

    'I
saw you, Inspector Marconi. What a little rascal you've been!'

    'I
couldn't-'

    'I
know, I know. But you're not very photogenic. Much better-looking in person.'

    'How
did you get my number?'

    'Easy.
I called the police station and told them I had important information on the
Black Widow case to give personally to Inspector Marconi.'

    Marconi
doesn't respond to that. He doesn't know whether to tell her that what she did
isn't ethical, but 'ethical' isn't a word he uses.

    'You
were so crafty, pretending to be a disappointed lover…'

    'Nothing
personal. I was undercover…'

    'Don't
worry. I understand. In fact I called you to help you out with your
investigation.'

    'You've
remembered something?'

    'No,
nothing about your girlfriend.' She explodes in a brief, and startling, burst
of laughter. 'But this weekend there's to be a very, very interesting party.'

    'And
what has the party got to do with the investigation?'

    'It's
a party that's been advertised everywhere on the underground scene. I can't get
her out of my mind. If you really want to know the truth, I've still got her
taste in my mouth.'

    Marconi
swallows. His saliva goes down like cement that's not quite set.

    'Come
with me to the party. That way you could win my forgiveness and at the same
time, if you're lucky, you might also catch your killer. It's a fancy dress
party. Aren't you going to ask me what the theme is?'

    'You're
going to tell me anyway, aren't you?' "Marilyn Superstar is not dead'. On
the flyer it says that girls need to wear platinum-blonde wigs. Doesn't that
remind you of anything?' 'Where do you live?'

    'Excuse
me, Giulia. I need the bathroom. Do you mind?'

    'Of
course not - what a question! Use whichever one you want. You know where they
are.'

    The
ringtone sounds, with the latest song by Biagio Antonacci.

    'Hello.
Oh, hi, Luca… No, I can't this evening. I've got my friend, Eva, here - you
know, the girl who's a bit depressed. She hasn't got anyone and the fact is I
feel sorry for her. I'm keeping her company… Yes, yes, we'll do it some other
time… Bye. Love you.'

    Giulia
feels a sense of satisfaction in claiming Eva is depressed - it makes herself feel
better - and she now pretends not to notice that her friend isn't depressed at
all. On the contrary, Eva has never been in such good shape as she is at the
moment.

    At
work she has become firmly entrenched in the creative team. She has had a
raise, and she has bought a new car. And now it's Giulia who has to do the
scanning for her friend. Eva looks radiant - damn her, and the day she made her
join the gym.

    'You've
taken ages.'

    'Sorry,
but you know I always get lost in your stately home. Where's Giovanna today?'

    'Giovanna?'

    'The
maid.'

    'What
are you on about? Why should you care where the maid is?'

    'Sorry.
I wanted to ask her if she'd make a swan for my sister. I'm going to dinner at
my parents' tonight and I wanted to give it her as a present.'

    'Today's
Wednesday - it's her half day off. By the way, if anyone asks about me this
evening, I'm with you, OK?'

    'No
problem: we're always together. Are you seeing Luca?'

    'No,
Fabrizio - someone I met last night, as I was doing Latin American dancing with
Stefania. And if anyone phones you, I'm in the bathroom and my mobile needs
recharging, so it's switched off in my bag.'

    'OK,
Giulia, but you know no one ever calls me.'

    'It
gets on my nerves that you're always so questioning. Is it too much to ask that
you just say yes?'

    'You're
in a bad mood today. Is there something wrong? You've been a bit strange
lately.'

    'Nothing.
Well… it's just that it's my birthday soon and I've asked my father for a
special present, but he doesn't want to know and I don't know how to persuade
him.'

    'Insist.
You're very good at getting men to change their minds.'

    'Hmm…
but he's been very nervy recently, my father, so I don't know. But how come
you're telling me that I've changed… Just look at yourself! You're never around
in the evening. I know you see your parents twice a week - at most - but when I
ask you to have supper with me, you always come up with excuses. You haven't
found a lover you don't want to tell me about, have you?' Giulia holds her
breath.

    'No,
there's no lover… Anyway, you'd better get ready or Fabrizio will be annoyed.
Let me do your hair. I'll put it in a plait - you always look good with your
hair tied back. Am I being nosy if I ask you what you've asked for for your
birthday that's so special?'

    'Er…
OK, I'll tell you. You'd soon see it anyway. I want a Cabriolet coupe. I adore
them.'

    Eva
stops plaiting for a second. Then she starts again, moving her hands rapidly in
and around Giulia's ash-blonde hair, while Giulia sits without talking and
stares at her red, polished nails.

    'Finished!
Have a look.' Eva interrupts the silence.

    'I
look awful! I look like my grandmother.' And she starts to undo the
just-plaited hair.

    'I'm
off now, Giulia. I need to spend a bit of time with Miew. Tonight I'm at my
parents, so I'll be leaving her on her own again.'

    'She's
not a child… Oh, well, off you go. Of course, letting a cat run your life…'

    'You
know…'

    'No.
Go, go. It's just that I was hoping to talk to you for a bit.'

    'But
didn't you say you were in a hurry?'

    'Yes,
I am in a hurry, but not that much of a hurry.'

    'What
is it? Is it still about your father?'

    'No.'
Guilia's face clouds over and she rests her hands in her lap.

    'What
is it, Giuli?'

    'No,
go. Think of your cat. It doesn't matter.'

    Eva
starts for the door but then turns back.

    Never
look back, the special lady used to tell her when she was small.

    Looking
back means being weak.

    Looking
back means letting someone else run your life.

    Eva
doesn't want to, but she looks back.

    'Come
on, tell me. Don't worry about Miew. I can always call my parents up and say
I'll be half an hour late.'

    She
sits on the bed and waits. In silence.

    Giulia
lets a smile of victory appear on her lips.

    She
too has just been lost in a faraway memory. A memory that smells of talcum
powder.

    Talcum
powder. She used to love that pink crystal box. She loved to lift the lid
carefully and let the sweet smell spread over her.

    She
would breathe gently, the lid in her hand.

    Then
she would put the box down on the blue tiles of the bathroom that was in her
old house - her old place was enormous, but still a hovel compared with the
villa she lives in now.

    She
would wait a few seconds more, and then would take up the powder-puff. It was a
magical thing.

    A
white cloud.

    She
would start to stroke her rosy cheeks. She breathed in the perfume.

    The
perfume of a woman.

    The
perfume of desire.

    One
day her mother had called out for her. She heard her footsteps in the corridor,
getting closer and closer.

    In
the midst of that soft, white intimacy, her mother's voice felt like a slap; she
felt violated.

    A
sudden movement and… the white cloud that had been transporting her to faraway
lands, the lands of dreams, of hidden desires, dropped into a whirlwind of
powder.

    White.

    Then
the fog had settled, slowly. As if time had stopped.

    Silence.

    The
end of a dream.

    A
thousand pieces of crystal covered in a blanket. The blanket was as light as
settled fog, and yet it seemed to her to weigh down heavily.

    'I'm
still here. I'm waiting. What did you want to tell me, Giulia?'

    The
girl turns. 'Nothing, really. I'll tell you another time. Don't worry, it
doesn't matter.'

    Eva
waits for the bus in the half light of the city, which swallows her up. She thinks
about how she really has changed: the sad, newborn infant inside her has become
a woman, a woman who knows what she wants.

    Her
mobile phone rings.

    A
block of flats. Like so many others looming behind the incessant stream of cars
in Via Stalingrado.

    Marconi
looks up, out of the car window, and tries to count the floors.

    The
car door opens.

    A leg
as smooth as silk appears.

    She
gets in, along with her perfume.

    A
perfume that pushes the ordinary air out of its way.

    She
demands attention.

    He
stares at her, with his mouth half open, as if his eyes aren't enough to take
in such a breathtaking vision.

    She
is demanding.

    She
is wearing a gold lurex outfit that wraps itself around her, embraces her. A
slit on the left side reveals her black stockings. She is dressed, but it's as
if she's wearing nothing. Pornographic.

    A
curly blonde wig clashes with her eyebrows, which are black as night.

    She
is beautiful. Gratuitously beautiful.

    Beautiful
in a way that fills both your consciousness and the space that surrounds her.

    'Here
I am. Have you been waiting long?'

    'No,
only about five minutes.'

    'Let's
go. I'll tell you the way.'

    He
starts the car and immediately she rests her hand on his as he holds the
gearstick. Marconi moves his hand away, hurriedly, and for a moment doesn't
know where to put it. Then he rests it on the steering wheel. When a car brakes
in front of him, the gears don't engage. The car screeches.

    'Sorry,
but I need a bit of space when I'm driving,' he mumbles.

    She
fills the space.

    
Let's
hope we get there soon.

    
I'm
going to get a result this evening.

    Thoughts.
Thoughts that run into each other. Bouncing around within the car.

    'Do
you like your work?'

    'Yes.'

    'I
would've liked to have been a police woman. Don't you think I'd be sexy in a
miniskirt with a badge?'

    'I've
never had a female partner, but I don't think policewomen go around in
miniskirts.'

    'What
have you got against miniskirts? There's no way you're a feminist?'

    'I'm
just saying they're impractical.'

    'Minis
are
practical and, anyway, what would
you
know? Or do you like
wearing women's clothes in your spare time?'