“It’s me,” Ravenna called out.
A moan came from within, and a weak voice. “Ravenna! Sweet girl. Oh, help me!”
—
The house was just as disordered as before, Ines’s armchair a throne in a kingdom of clutter. Ravenna busied herself opening windows and shutters, letting in grey light and fresh air, city sounds, and a view of the chipped paint and plaster of the building across the alley. Ines limped towards a window, dragging the cart with her oxygen tank behind her, her skeletal frame silhouetted against the light through her thin nightdress. She lit a cigarette.
“It’s dangerous to smoke with your oxygen,” Valerio warned.
She gave a baleful stare and sucked her cigarette, leaving lipstick marks on the filter.
“My son is dead,” she wheezed. “Tell me what I have to live for now. He was my only child!”
She began to sob. A dry, hoarse sound. Her body curved around it. Ravenna gently took the cigarette from her fingers, putting it out in an ashtray.
“Sit down,” she urged, helping the frail woman back to her chair.
At Ravenna’s instruction, Valerio cleared the seat—picking up a thick photo album. Ravenna tucked Ines in, and he opened the book, glancing through the pictures of Gaetano as a child.
He was suddenly full of the pizza, and sick with pity and the stench of the room. His stomach wrenched.
“Ravenna tells me Gaetano had a good heart,” he said, handing her the album. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You can’t possibly understand my loss,” she moaned. “Only a mother whose heart is broken like mine.”
Valerio still saw the juddering form of the boy as the bullets tore into him.
“I want to find and punish whoever was responsible for Gaetano’s death,” he said. “Will you answer my questions?”
“What questions could you possibly have?” she keened.
“I need you to tell me what you do for Paride Silvestri.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped with a sudden appraising look.
Valerio opened his phone, and showed the picture of Ines and Silvestri together.
She examined it for a moment, then exhaled and shrugged. “He’s a friend of the family.”
“You weren’t working for him?”
“As you’ve already pointed out, I work for Luca Errichiello.”
“You didn’t arrange for Gaetano to work for Silvestri?”
“No!”
“You weren’t grooming little girls?” Valerio said. “Serving them to Silvestri?”
She stared, her eyes narrowing. “How can you torment me at a time like this?”
Her hands reached into the air as she spoke, as if she wanted to grab onto him. The book slid to the floor, spilling papers and pictures.
“Capo,” Ravenna said, rushing in to tidy up, “that’s enough.”
But Valerio was watching Ines as carefully as she watched him. He knew what it was when a woman lied to him. He’d grown up with two sisters whose deceptions he readily detected, and an ex-wife whose lies had taken longer to spot. Ravenna might be blind to whatever Ines was hiding, but he didn’t have time to play these games.
Without asking for permission, he strode from the room, and into the dark apartment.
