The Girl with the Crystal Eyes (9 page)

    'In
my opinion, yes. Same height according to forensics, one metre sixty or
sixty-five, same force used to strike the fatal blow. A right-handed blow. The
print of a stiletto heel, so I'd say we're talking about a woman.'

    'A
woman!' Frolli bursts out laughing.

    Marconi
looks at him sullenly. 'In your opinion, is it easier for a man to stay calm,
not at all worried, and let himself be caught unawares by another man, possibly
big and tall, or by a woman, possibly attractive, and possibly - apparently -
defenceless? To explain more clearly: he isn't worried; he believes he's not in
any danger.'

    'Perhaps
the murderer
knew
the victim,' interrupts Tommasi, speaking for the
first time.

    'Or
perhaps
she
should have been the victim.' Marconi is thinking out loud
again.

    Morini
comes in, out of breath, knocking first this time. He doesn't like Frolli, so
he's always careful what he says when he's around.

    'Excuse
me, Inspector.' And he signals for Marconi to come closer.

    He
sees that Morini's eyes are like golf balls, and he leans forward in a rather
theatrical manner.

    'That
girl - the one from the other day - needs to talk to you urgently,' he says
quietly.

    This
time Marconi doesn't make him repeat it. That conversation could go on for
ever, and he's sincerely fed up with meaningless talk that doesn't seem to go
anywhere. And, anyway, he likes to think for himself.

    A
girl? Perhaps even pretty?

    'They're
waiting for me in my office.' He leaves without saying anything else.

    Tommasi
mumbles something as well, and follows in the inspector's shadow, leaving
Frolli's office with a document in his hand that he's fished out at random from
the pile on the desk.

    'Hmm,'
mutters Frolli, now left alone in the room.

    'It's
good, this pizza, really light,' says Giulia, reflecting that it's so easily
digestible she won't put on an ounce.

    'Yes.'

    Eva
always says very little. She doesn't know what to say when she's with people
whose heads are too light.

    'Light
heads' is a phrase she made up herself. She is convinced that your brain
unconsciously picks up the intellectual faculties of the person nearest you,
and that whenever you're close to a person with a limited intellect, waves of
'non-thought' invade your space and you end up unable to say anything.

    'You
know, we joined a gym today.'

    Giulia
says this in a challenging way. She likes to be in control and Eva's docility
always makes her feel good.

    She
started trying to assert her authority over other people very early on. When
she was still a young child, she was already using little tricks to get what
she wanted. She told lies. Many were the times she would resort to blackmail to
obtain something special, or something beyond her grasp. In fact, the further
from her grasp the thing she wanted, the greater the challenge, and therefore
the more it was Worth trying to get it. By doing this she was able to prove to
herself that she was
capable,
that she was equal to the situation. The
goal itself wasn't as important as the means, the strategy that she employed to
reach her goal.

    As
Eastern philosophers say, the destination isn't as Important as the journey you
undertake to get there. Apart from this shared belief, Giulia and Eastern
philosophers have very little in common.

    She
had been especially proud of herself that time when her father refused to buy
her a scooter for her to ride to school, given that her school was only five
hundred metres from home.

    She
had cried, stamped her feet and run to her mother, begging her to intercede on
her behalf - but nothing doing.

    After
having expended so much energy and not having had the desired effect, she understood
that she had to forget about traditional methods. She had therefore started to
watch her father, to stay as close to him as possible, to spy on him in the
moments he spent alone in his study, fondling his mahogany furniture and
smoking cigars.

    A
week later she had gone into his office and had declared, after rubbing her
eyes with her knuckles, that she had overheard a telephone call by accident. At
that point she burst into tears, pretending that she couldn't go on. He had got
up then. 'What is it, sweetie?

    Tell
daddy.' She didn't have to be asked twice. She had overheard a phone call: he
was calling some woman 'pussy cat', and was setting up a date at his club.
Perhaps he wanted to leave her and her mother.

    Her
father made sure she found a scooter outside the house the following morning;
she had never mentioned the phone call again.

    If
her mother refused to buy her a new dress because her wardrobe was already
stuffed full, or simply because she had bought her something just the week before,
without fail she turned on the tears - crocodile tears, switched on as if by
remote control. She would claim that she thought herself ugly, that she had no
self-confidence, and that this would deter her from eating, so that she could
try to look more attractive, because everyone on television says how you have
to be thin to be beautiful.

    Her
desire for posessions grew over the years, and the things she desired became
ever more costly: after dolls she moved on to jewels and designer clothes, while
the Monopoly money she had loved to keep in her little coral bag with its
bright pink plastic handle, when she was nine, was replaced by real banknotes
stuffed into her purse together with credit cards borrowed from her parents.

    With
Eva everything is much simpler. The excuse of the depression from which Giulia
is heroically trying to save her troubled friend gives her the right to
organise her life, and therefore organise her lunch hour.

    Eva
goes along with it because she thinks it's better that Giulia thinks she's
depressed. That way she doesn't ask any questions and, after all, having her
around keeps her distracted.

    'Tomorrow
we'll start at the gym. I thought that, since my dad is a member - one who
never ever
goes
to the gym, obviously, but still a member… Well, it's
nearly Christmas, so I've given you his membership as a present. You can do
whatever you want. There are aerobics classes, modern dance, even that thing
where you kick and punch. You're free to choose what you like. I'll come along
with you, and then we'll meet up again after we both finish. I've met this boy
who does the massage - Andrea - so I'll be spending my time there, and I'll
have a go on the sunbed as well. He's really nice, you know. I think he likes
me too, but as I'm going out with Thomas at the moment, the PR person at
Ruvido, who's really jealous, I told him that I'll be going to the gym with
you, to help you with your depression, so he's OK about it. And, anyway, I'm
giving you a great present, aren't I?'

    Eva doesn't
answer and instead looks at Miew, who's sleeping on her lap.

    Giulia
isn't happy here. In this flat, which is too small and lacks creature comforts,
she doesn't get the attention she needs in order to survive.

    'You
know, I met a man… a strange guy,' she says, determined to get all the
attention she deserves.

    'What
do you mean, strange?'

    'Oh,
just totally different. A tough guy, a bit of a misfit.'

    Eva
doesn't ask her anything else.

    It's
no fun talking to her, thinks Giulia, now fed up. But then she continues. 'But
this one turns me on - quite a lot in fact.'

    'Yes?'

    'Yes.
I'm used to going out with boys, but he's a real man. He knows what he wants,
and it just so happen: that what he wants now is me.'

    Giulia
pulls taut the hem of her skirt. She closes her eyes tight for a moment.

    'The
first evening we met, he was sitting at the bar, on his own, and he was staring
at me. We were in Capannina. I don't know what someone like him was doing at
Capannina, but that doesn't matter. Then I walked past him to go to the loo.'

    She
pauses. She raises her eyes from her flowery skirt and glances at her friend,
who is playing with the burnt crust of the pizza - just as she was doing five
minutes ago when they were talking about the gym.

    'I
took at least a quarter of an hour to fix my hair and make-up, then I went out
- and guess what?'

    'I've
no idea,' Eva finds a piece of the pizza that's not quite so burnt and puts it
in her mouth.

    'You've
got no imagination. He was there. Leaning against the wall. There wasn't anyone
else around. Not a soul. The corridor's long and narrow, and he was there
waiting for me, in the dark.'

    Eva
shivers, and Giulia starts to feel pleased.

    'He
started to move towards me and I took a step back.'

    Eva
swallows the pizza.

    'He
kept on coming towards me. I went back into the bathroom but he came in after
me.'

    'So
what did you do? Didn't you shout for help?'

    Giulia
is happy now and carries on speaking even more quietly. 'No.'

    By
now even the cat seems transfixed. Giulia is triumphant.

    'I
was about to lock myself in the bathroom but he grabbed hold of the door. He
came in.'

    Eva
can't bear it any longer. 'What did you do?' she asks in a whisper.

    'He
leapt on me, like an animal.'

    Eva
gives a start and the cat jumps to the floor, astonished, remaining at her
feet, with paws outstretched as if she's trying to regain her balance.

    Giulia
can't stop now. She's enjoying watching Eva's reaction, and wants it to
continue watching.

    'He
put his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. He had enormous hands.

    'Workman's
hands?'

    'Hands
that can't afford to touch a classy woman like me.'

    Eva
stares.

    'He
put his tongue in my mouth while he touched my breast with one hand.'

    'And
you screamed?'

    'No,
I couldn't. I was in his power.'

    Eva
has got up, and she starts to pace backwards and forwards. This pacing consumes
her. 'What did he do to you, Giulia?' she finally asks.

    Giulia
decides that she's gone far enough..

    'He
just looked at me and said "It doesn't end here". He opened the door
and he left.'

    'But
you should have called the bouncers!' Eva cries out, hugging her.

    'I
can't stop thinking about it,' says Giulia, with a faint smile.

    She
looks up at him and, for a moment, lights up the room.

    With
a muted light, it's true, but she lights it up nonetheless. There is no doubt about
it.

    The
identification photographs on the walls.

    The
mountains of papers dumped on the desk.

    The
scruffy fake-leather sofa with the faint impression of someone's tired back,
like a faded memory.

    'Good
evening,' she says shyly.

    'But
it's you!' he answers.

    'Do
we know each other?'

    'No…
I don't think so. Sorry, I was mistaken. Tell me why you're here.'

    
It's
the girl I saw in the waiting room. She's not someone I could ever forget. She
looks like…
.

    Marconi
loses himself for a moment in a memory from long ago and feels that he's back
at his school desk.

    'I
thought about it a lot before coming here,' the girl starts.

    
She's
really beautiful, but not in a flashy way
.