In the 18th Commissario Guido Brunetti mystery, vaporous fumes seem to rise everywhere, giving About Face a Dantesque starkness. Brunetti's restless quest for miscreants leads him deep into this netherworld of hazardous waste and dark alliances. Poking through the fetid garbage and the incinerator cities, he uncovers secrets that mobsters and businessmen want to keep hidden at any cost. Assassins in the night and a green theme.
Donna Leon's eighteen novels have won her countless fans, heaps of critical acclaim, and a place among the top ranks of international crime writers. Through the warmhearted, perceptive, and principled Commissario Guido Brunetti, Leon's bestselling books have explored Venice in all its aspects: history, tourism, high culture, food, family, but also violent crime and political corruption.
In About Face, Leon returns to one of her signature subjects: the environment, which has reached a crisis in Italy. Incinerators across the south of Italy are at full capacity, burning who-knows-what and releasing unacceptable levels of dangerous air pollutants, while in Naples, enormous garbage piles grow in the streets. In Venice, with the polluted waters of the canals and a major chemical complex across the lagoon, the issue is never far from the fore.
Environmental concerns become significant in Brunetti's work when an investigator from the Carabiniere, looking into the illegal hauling of garbage, asks for a favor. But the investigator is not the only one with a special request. His father-in-law needs help and a mysterious woman comes into the picture. Brunetti soon finds himself in the middle of an investigation into murder and corruption more dangerous than anything he's seen before.
Donna Leon's eighteen novels have won her countless fans, heaps of critical acclaim, and a place among the top ranks of international crime writers. Through the warmhearted, perceptive, and principled Commissario Guido Brunetti, Leon's bestselling books have explored Venice in all its aspects: history, tourism, high culture, food, family, but also violent crime and political corruption.
In About Face, Leon returns to one of her signature subjects: the environment, which has reached a crisis in Italy. Incinerators across the south of Italy are at full capacity, burning who-knows-what and releasing unacceptable levels of dangerous air pollutants, while in Naples, enormous garbage piles grow in the streets. In Venice, with the polluted waters of the canals and a major chemical complex across the lagoon, the issue is never far from the fore.
Environmental concerns become significant in Brunetti's work when an investigator from the Carabiniere, looking into the illegal hauling of garbage, asks for a favor. But the investigator is not the only one with a special request. His father-in-law needs help and a mysterious woman comes into the picture. Brunetti soon finds himself in the middle of an investigation into murder and corruption more dangerous than anything he's seen before.
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About Face (Guido Brunetti Series #18)
Narrated by David Colacci
Donna LeonUnabridged — 9 hours, 40 minutes
![About Face (Guido Brunetti Series #18)](http://img.images-bn.com/static/redesign/srcs/images/grey-box.png?v11.11.4)
About Face (Guido Brunetti Series #18)
Narrated by David Colacci
Donna LeonUnabridged — 9 hours, 40 minutes
Overview
Donna Leon's eighteen novels have won her countless fans, heaps of critical acclaim, and a place among the top ranks of international crime writers. Through the warmhearted, perceptive, and principled Commissario Guido Brunetti, Leon's bestselling books have explored Venice in all its aspects: history, tourism, high culture, food, family, but also violent crime and political corruption.
In About Face, Leon returns to one of her signature subjects: the environment, which has reached a crisis in Italy. Incinerators across the south of Italy are at full capacity, burning who-knows-what and releasing unacceptable levels of dangerous air pollutants, while in Naples, enormous garbage piles grow in the streets. In Venice, with the polluted waters of the canals and a major chemical complex across the lagoon, the issue is never far from the fore.
Environmental concerns become significant in Brunetti's work when an investigator from the Carabiniere, looking into the illegal hauling of garbage, asks for a favor. But the investigator is not the only one with a special request. His father-in-law needs help and a mysterious woman comes into the picture. Brunetti soon finds himself in the middle of an investigation into murder and corruption more dangerous than anything he's seen before.
Editorial Reviews
It would be easy to punch holes in a contrived subplot, thick with symbolism, about a beautiful young woman whose face was ruined by cosmetic surgery. But who would want to, when Leon is being so generous with the humanizing details that make this series special? There are long walks in Brunetti's warm company and lively talks with his clever wife and even more engaging father-in-law, who can see the appetites of a modern consumer society reflected in a 17th-century portrait. As detective work goes, it's a tiny masterpiece of analysis.
The New York Times
In Leon's 18th novel, Commissario Brunetti delves deeply into Venice's (literal and figurative) pollution, navigating the choked canals as he tries to solve the murder of a truck driver. When his father-in-law asks him to look into the background of a potential business partner, Brunetti becomes fascinated with the business partner's wife-a former beauty now ravaged by a ruinous face lift. If the story evolves slowly, David Colacci manages to keep listeners hooked. His deep and direct voice drives the narrative, and his seamless transitions from description to dialogue are particularly impressive given the book's range of accents, genders and vocal styles. Despite the strong projection of his voice, Colacci can still shift his tone with his vocal characters to convey two people talking in confidence. His interpretation of Leon's book proves an excellent example of how a narrator can improve the actual story. An Atlantic Monthly hardcover (Reviews, Feb. 23). (Apr.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.With her 18th stellar entry in the Commissario Guido Brunetti series, Leon (Suffer the Little Children) continues to live up to the increasingly high standards set by each novel. Her latest brings the Venetian policeman into intertwining cases involving dangerous environmental hazards: mounting trash heaps and air and water pollution. As usual, the urbane, overeducated, laconic detective circumvents his self-indulgent, self-centered boss and other department dullards to solve a thorny murder case. Leon not only offers superb plotting and engaging dialog, but also captures the atmosphere of Venetian daily life. Thus, Brunetti enjoys frequent, leisurely meals with his wife and children. Leon's evocation of these meals is so delectable that readers feel as though they are participating in the repasts. For readers of literary mysteries, such as those by Deborah Crombie and Elizabeth George. Highly recommended for all public and university libraries. [See Prepub Alert, LJ12/08.]
Lynne F. Maxwell
The stench of corruption that always hangs over Venice grows disconcertingly literal when Commissario Guido Brunetti (The Girl of His Dreams, 2008, etc.) gets a case involving the illegal disposal of toxic waste. The morning after he spends a night dining with his wife Paola's titled parents and their guests-including most notably La Super Liftata, Franca Marinello, the much younger wife of a well-connected businessman who's trying to entice Conte Orazio Falier to invest money in China-Brunetti is confronted with what seems like a much homelier state of affairs. Maggiore Filipo Guarino, of the Marghera Carabinieri, is looking into the death of Stefano Ranzato, a reluctant police informant from Tessera who was killed by whoever robbed his trucking company, and wants some local help gathering information about his relationship with an unsavory character in San Marcuola. Guarino, who seems convinced that Ranzato's death was no casual slaughter, is just as mysterious in his own way as Franca Marinello, but apart from that Brunetti sees no connection between a scandal concerning the Mafia's infiltration of the waste-disposal business and a charming ex-model with a fondness for Cicero and the world's most grotesque facelift. It's not until a violent climax at the Casino that the two halves of the plot come together, and then the connection is more convincing in metaphorical than literal terms. On the plus side, there are the usual sharp scenes of Brunetti at work and at home, and a surprisingly warm relationship develops between Brunetti and his hitherto remote father-in-law. Author tour to New York, Philadelphia, Washington, D.C., Atlanta, Miami/Ft. Lauderdale, San Francisco, Seattle. Agent:Diogenes Verlag
Praise for About Face:
“Leon . . . is so generous with the humanizing details that make this series special. There are long walks in Brunetti’s warm company and lively talks with his clever wife and even more engaging father-in-law, who can see the appetites of a modern consumer reflected in a 17th-century portrait. As detective work goes, it’s a tiny masterpiece of analysis.”—Marilyn Stasio, New York Times Book Review
“About Face continues Donna Leon’s deeply satisfying series about Venetian cop Guido Brunetti . . . Brunetti is canny, reflective and adept at maneuvering through tricky situations. Here, he tackles environmental crimes, an enigmatic and aristocratic woman, and, of course, murder.”—Adam Woog, Seattle Times
“Fine and atmospheric . . . Leon excels at depicting Brunetti’s warm and complex domestic life, and in classic Brunetti style this outing starts with a dinner party . . . In About Face she ratchets up the tension further, expanding on both the intimate and social complexities that make her books so rich.”—Clea Simon, Boston Globe
“Leon’s books have many pleasures, including the traditional ones of intricate crimes artfully solved. But the deepest satisfaction comes from following Brunetti on his daily routine. The Commissario’s life is organized around eating lunch and dinner at home . . . I can’t think of another family in literature whose members enjoy one another’s company so much.”—Bloomberg News
“The eighteenth novel starring Guido Brunetti, from . . . the undisputed crime fiction queen . . . [whose] ability to capture the city’s social scene and internal politics is first-rate.”—The Baltimore Sun
“One of contemporary crime literature’s most engaging cops.”—Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
“With an intricate style and credible characters, what more could a reader ask? Good writing, and Leon is a master prose stylist . . . Leon hits only true notes in this gracefully composed and unsettling installment in her distinguished series.”—Richmond Times-Dispatch
“Commissario Guido Brunetti is a man a reader might easily fall in love with. He is thoughtful, introspective, caring, protective of his family and his city . . . [I]f you know Venice, have wandered its streets and hidden alleys and have hopped on a vaporetto to get somewhere, you'll revel in Brunetti’s perceptions.”—St. Petersburg Times
“Few aspects of Venetian life have escaped the scrutiny of Donna Leon’s highly entertaining series featuring Commissario Guido Brunetti. About Face, the 18th installment, continues those high standards . . . Brunetti, one of crime fiction’s most beloved police inspectors, knows he can never defeat Italian corruption, but he will never give up trying.”—South Florida Sun-Sentinel
“It is no mean feat to sustain a mystery series at this high a level . . . Of course, that is just what Donna Leon has accomplished and more . . . Once again the reader is treated to the sights and sounds of Venice as well as Brunetti’s love of classical literature and the delightful observances of his wife. Written with subtlety and insight into the characters, the novel, as its predecessors, is a pleasure to read.”—Midwest Book Review
“Leon’s carved out edgy new territory with familiar tools and it’s brilliant.”—Open Letters Monthly
“With her 18th stellar entry in the Commissario Guido Brunetti series, Leon continues to live up to the increasingly high standards set by each novel . . . Leon not only offers superb plotting and engaging dialog, but also captures the atmosphere of Venetian daily life. Thus, Brunetti enjoys frequent, leisurely meals with his wife and children. Leon’s evocation of these meals is so delectable that readers feel as though they are participating in the repasts . . . Highly recommended.”—Library Journal (starred review)
“The stench of corruption that always hangs over Venice grows disconcertingly literal when Commissario Guido Brunetti gets a case involving the illegal disposal of toxic waste. [In About Face] there are the usual sharp scenes of Brunetti at work and at home, and a surprisingly warm relationship develops between Brunetti and his hitherto remote father-in-law.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Leon flawlessly melds the two plot threads as she parallels her characters’ vulnerability with that of Venice.”—Publishers Weekly
“The signature elements of any Leon novel are present here—the island-like tranquility of Brunetti’s domestic life; his ongoing sparring with his bureaucrat boss—but this time the focus is more on the central stories: the mysterious woman and the garbage scandal. Brunetti tackles environmental malfeasance as he does all the other kinds of rampant governmental corruption he encounters, recognizing that full-frontal assaults are never won by individuals against institutions. Instead, he chips away at the edges of the monolith, carving shreds of hope from seeming hopelessness. No wonder we find him such a comforting presence.”—Booklist
“It’s testament to Leon’s skill as a storyteller that disparate elements blend into yet another great Brunetti outing. She combines the minutiae of daily life in Venice with pitch-perfect descriptions of police procedure, the now-familiar rhythms of Brunetti’s home life with a ferocious knowledge of literature, delivered—how else?—with a sure, yet light, touch . . . The details of home-cooked meals and family arguments, alongside a never-ending flow of crime, add a depth to Leon’s stories and are what makes her characters so believable and, in turn, her books so readable.”—Independent (UK)
“While the Commissario never seems to age or change, Italy does. That’s always the subtext of Donna Leon’s brilliantly conceived works. Brunetti does his job while the world around him seems always swirling out of control. There isn’t a weak book in this series, and About Face is definitely one of the best of the lot.”—Globe & Mail
“Over the past two decades Donna Leon has done for Venice what Colin Dexter did for Oxford and Sara Paretsky for Chicago. Through a series of crime novels in which her home town plays as great a part as any of her human protagonists, she has made hundreds of thousands of fans into Venetian know-it-alls . . . She is in a long and distinguished line of expat Venetian writers that includes Byron, Ruskin, Henry James and latterly Salley Vickers and the late Michael Dibdin.”—Telegraph (UK)
“While About Face is the 18th of Leon’s Brunetti novels, it can be read without reference to what has gone before. Jump on here, by all means, but leave time to catch up. You will want to read every word of every Brunetti book.”—Bookreporter.com
“Overflowing with atmosphere . . . About Face is another winner from Donna Leon.”—BookLoons.com
“Donna Leon’s eighteenth novel starring the warm hearted, perceptive, erudite Guido Brunetti . . . About Face excels as a mystery, a delightful exploration of Venice: its history, culture, food and family life, and also an exploration of political corruption and greed . . . Highly recommended!”—I Love a Mystery
Product Details
BN ID: | 2940169689679 |
---|---|
Publisher: | Blackstone Audio, Inc. |
Publication date: | 04/08/2009 |
Series: | Guido Brunetti Series , #18 |
Edition description: | Unabridged |
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
He noticed the woman on their way to dinner. That is, as he and Paola paused in front of the window of a bookstore, and he was using the reflection to adjust his tie, Brunetti saw the woman's reflection as she passed by, heading towards Campo San Barnaba arm in arm with an older man. He saw her from behind, the man on her left. Brunetti first noticed her hair, a blonde as light as Paola's, braided into a smooth bun that sat low on the back of her head. By the time he turned around to get a better look, the couple had passed them and was nearing the bridge that led to San Barnaba.
Her coat – it might have been ermine, it might have been sable: Brunetti knew only that it was something more expensive than mink – fell to just above very fine ankles and shoes with a heel too high, really, to be worn on streets where patches of snow and ice still lay.
Brunetti recognized the man but failed to recall his name: the impression that came was the vague memory of wealth and importance. He was shorter and broader than the woman and he was more careful about avoiding the patches of ice. At the bottom of the bridge, the man took a sudden sidestep and braced his hand on the parapet. He stopped, and the woman's momentum was arrested by the anchor of his arm. One foot still in the air, she began to pivot in the direction of the now motionless man and swung farther away from the still-curious Brunetti.
'If you felt like it, Guido,' Paola said from beside him, 'you could get me the new biography of William James for my birthday.'
Brunetti looked away from the couple and followed the direction of his wife's finger towards a thick book at the back of the window display.
'I thought his name was Henry,' he said, straight faced.
She yanked at his arm, pulling him closer. 'Don't play the fool with me, Guido Brunetti. You know who William James is.'
He nodded. 'But why do you want a biography of the brother?'
'I'm curious about the family and about anything that might have made him the way he was.'
Brunetti remembered that, more than two decades before, he had felt the same urgency about the newly met Paola: inquisitive about her family, her tastes, her friends, anything at all that could tell him more about this wondrous young woman whom some beneficent agency of fate had allowed him to bump into among the shelves of the university library. To Brunetti, this curiosity seemed a normal enough response to a warm and living person. But to feel it about a writer who had been dead for almost a century?
'Why do you find him so fascinating?' he asked, not for the first time. Hearing himself, Brunetti realized he sounded just like what her enthusiasm for Henry James had so often reduced him to being: a petulant, jealous husband.
She released his arm and stepped back, as if to get a better look at this man she found herself married to. 'Because he understands things,' she said.
'Ah,' Brunetti contented himself with saying. It seemed to him that this was the least that could be expected of a writer.
'And because he makes us understand those things,' she added.
He now suspected that the subject had been closed.
Paola must have decided they had spent more than enough time on this. 'Come on. You know my father hates people to be late,' she said.
They moved away from the bookstore. When they reached the bottom of the bridge, she stopped and glanced up at his face. 'You know,' she began. 'You're really very much like Henry James.'
Brunetti did not know whether to be flattered or offended. Over the years, fortunately, he had at least ceased to wonder, upon hearing the comparison, whether he needed to reconsider the foundations of their marriage.
'You want to understand things, Guido. It's probably why you're a policeman.' She looked thoughtful after saying this. 'But you also want other people to understand those things.' She turned away and continued up the bridge. Over her shoulder, she added, 'Just as he did.'
Brunetti allowed her to reach the top of the bridge before calling after her, 'Does that mean I'm really meant to be a writer, too?' How nice it would be if she answered yes.
She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, then turned to say, 'It makes you interesting to live with, though.'
Better than being a writer, Brunetti thought as he followed after her.
Brunetti glanced at his watch as Paola reached up to ring the bell beside the portone of her parents' home. 'All these years, and you don't have a key?' he asked.
'Don't be a goose,' she said. 'Of course I have a key. But this is formal, so it's better to arrive like guests.'
'Does that mean we have to behave like guests?' Brunetti asked.
Whatever answer Paola might have given was cut off as the door was opened by a man neither of them recognized. He smiled and pulled the door fully open.
Paola thanked him and they started across the courtyard towards the steps that led to the palazzo. 'No livery,' Brunetti said in a shocked whisper. 'No periwigs? My God, what's the world coming to? Next thing you know, the servants will be eating at the high table, and then the silver will start to disappear. Where will it all end? With Luciana running after your father with a meat cleaver?'
Paola stopped in her tracks and turned to him, silent. She gave him a variation on the Look, her only recourse in his moments of verbal excess.
'Sì, tesoro?' he asked in his sweetest voice.
'Let's stand here for a few moments, Guido, while you use up all of your humorous remarks about my parents' place in society, and when you've calmed down, we'll go upstairs and join the other guests, and you will behave like a reasonably civilized person at dinner. How does that sound to you?'
Brunetti nodded. 'I like it, especially the part about "reasonably civilized".'
Her smile was radiant, 'I thought you would, dear.' She started up the steps to the entrance to the main part of the palazzo, Brunetti one step behind.
Paola had accepted her father's invitation some time before and explained to Brunetti that Conte Falier had said he wanted his son-in-law to meet a good friend of the Contessa.
Though Brunetti had come, over the years, to accept without question his mother-in-law's love, he was never sure of just where he stood in the Conte's estimation, whether he was viewed as a jumped-up peasant who had stolen in and made off with the affections of the Conte's only child or a person of worth and ability. Brunetti accepted the fact that the Conte was entirely capable of believing both things simultaneously.
Another man whom neither of them recognized stood at the top of the steps and opened the door to the palazzo with a small bow, allowing its warmth to spill out towards them. Brunetti followed Paola inside.
The sound of voices came down the corridor from the main salone that looked across the Grand Canal. The man took their coats silently and opened the door of an illuminated closet. Glancing inside, Brunetti saw a single, long fur coat hanging by itself at the end of one of the racks, isolated either by its value or by the sensibilities of the man who had hung it there.
The voices lured them, and they started towards the front of the house. As Brunetti and Paola entered, he saw their host and hostess standing in front of the centre window. They were facing towards Brunetti and Paola, allowing their guests the view to the palazzi on the other side of the Grand Canal, and Brunetti, once again seeing their backs, recognized them as the man and woman who had passed them on the street; either that, or there existed another thickset, white-haired man who had a tall blonde companion with black stiletto-heeled shoes and hair pulled back into an elaborately woven bun. She stood a bit apart, gazing out the window and appearing from this distance not to be engaging with the others.
Two other couples stood on either side of his parents-in-law. He recognized the Conte's lawyer and his wife; the others were an old friend of the Contessa's who, like her, engaged in good works, and her husband, who sold armaments and mining technology to Third World countries.
The Conte glanced aside from what looked like a flourishing conversation with the white-haired man and saw his daughter. He set his glass down, said something else to the man, and stepped around him to come towards Paola and Brunetti. As his host moved away, the man turned to see what had drawn his attention, and the name came to Brunetti: Maurizio Cataldo, a man said to have the ear of certain members of the city administration. The woman continued to look out of the window, as if enchanted by the view and unaware of the Conte's departure.
Brunetti and Cataldo, as often happened in the city, had never been introduced to one another, though Brunetti knew the general outline of his history. The family had come from Friuli, Brunetti thought, some time early in the last century, had prospered during the Fascist era, and had become even richer during the great boom of the sixties. Construction? Transport? He wasn't sure.
The Conte reached Brunetti and Paola, kissed them each twice in greeting, and then turned back to the couple with whom he had been talking, saying, 'Paola, you know them,' and then to Brunetti, 'but I'm not sure you do, Guido. They're eager to meet you.'
This was perhaps true of Cataldo, who watched them approach, eyebrows raised and chin tilted to one side as he cast his eyes from Paola to Brunetti with open curiosity. As for the woman, her expression was impossible to read. Or more accurately, her face expressed pleasant, permanent anticipation, fixed there immutably by the attentions of a surgeon. Her mouth was set to spend the rest of its time on earth parted in a small smile, the sort one gives when introduced to the maid's grandchild. Though the smile was thin as an expression of pleasure, the lips that made it were full and fleshy, a deep red most usually seen on cherries. Her eyes were crowded by her cheekbones, which swelled up on either side of her nose in taut, pink nodes about the size of a kiwi fruit cut longitudinally. The nose itself started higher on her forehead than it was normal for noses to start and was strangely flat, as though someone had smoothed it with a spatula after placing it there.
Of line or blemish there was no sign. Her skin was perfect, the skin of a child. The blonde hair gave no sign that it differed from spun gold, and Brunetti had learned enough about fashion to know that her dress cost more than any suit he had ever owned.
This, then, must be Cataldo's second wife, 'la super liftata', some distant relative of the Contessa about whom Brunetti had heard a few times but whom he had never met. A quick search through his file of social gossip told him that she was from the North somewhere and was said to be reclusive and, in some never explained way, strange.
'Ah,' the Conte began, breaking into Brunetti's thoughts. Paola bent forward and kissed the woman, then shook the man's hand. To the woman, the Conte said, 'Franca, I'd like you to meet my son-in-law, Guido Brunetti, Paola's husband.' And then to Brunetti, 'Guido, may I present Franca Marinello and her husband, Maurizio Cataldo.' He stepped aside and waved Brunetti forward, as though he were offering Brunetti and Paola the other couple as a Christmas gift.
Brunetti shook hands with the woman, whose grasp was surprisingly firm, and the man, whose hand felt dry, as if it needed dusting. 'Piacere,' he said, smiling first into her eyes, and then into the man's, which were a watery blue.
The man nodded, but it was the woman who spoke. 'Your mother-in-law has spoken so well of you all these years; it's a great pleasure finally to meet you.'
Before Brunetti could think of a response, the double doors leading to the dining room were opened from inside, and the man who had collected the coats announced that dinner was served. As everyone made their way across the room, Brunetti tried to remember anything the Contessa might have told him about her friend Franca, but he could summon only that the Contessa had befriended her years ago when she came to study in Venice.
The sight of the table, laden with china and silver, exploding with flowers, reminded him of the last meal he had had in this house, only two weeks before. He had stopped by to bring two books to the Contessa, with whom, in the last years, he had begun to exchange them, and he had found his son there with her. Raffi had explained that he had come to pick up the essay he had prepared for his Italian class and which his grandmother had offered to read.
Brunetti had found them in her study, sitting side by side at her desk. In front of them were the eight pages of Raffi's essay, spread out and covered with comments in three different colours. To the left of the papers was a platter of sandwiches, or rather what had once been a platter of sandwiches. While Brunetti finished them, the Contessa explained her system: red for grammatical errors; yellow for any form of the verb essere, and blue for errors of fact or interpretation.
Raffi, who sometimes bridled when Brunetti disagreed with his view of history or Paola corrected his grammar, seemed entirely persuaded that his grandmother knew whereof she wrote and was busy entering her suggestions into his laptop; Brunetti listened attentively as she explained them.
Brunetti was pulled back from this memory by Paola's muttered, 'Look for your name.' Indeed, small hand-printed cards stood propped in front of each place. He quickly found his own and was comforted to see Paola's to his left, between himself and her father. He glanced around the table, where everyone seemed to have found his or her proper place. Someone more familiar with the etiquette of seating at dinner might have been shocked at the proximity of wives to their husbands: it is to be hoped that their sensibilities would have been calmed by the fact that the Conte and Contessa faced one another from the ends of the rectangular table. The Conte's lawyer, Renato Rocchetto, pulled out the Contessa's chair and held it for her. When she was seated, the other women took their places, followed by the men.
Brunetti found himself directly opposite Cataldo's wife, about a metre from her face. She was listening to something her husband said, her head almost touching his, but Brunetti knew that would merely delay the inevitable. Paola turned to him, whispered 'Coraggio', and patted his leg.
As Paola took her hand away, Cataldo smiled at his wife and turned towards Paola and her father; Franca Marinello looked across at Brunetti. 'It's terribly cold, isn't it?' she began, and Brunetti braced himself for yet another one of those dinner conversations.
Before he could find a suitably bland answer, the Contessa spoke from her end of the table: 'I hope no one will mind if we have a meatless dinner this evening.' She smiled and looked around at the guests and added, in a tone that suggested both amusement and embarrassment, 'What with the dietary peculiarities of my own family and because I let it go until too late to call each of you to ask about yours, I decided it would be easiest simply to avoid meat and fish.'
'"Dietary peculiarities?"' whispered Claudia Umberti, the wife of the Conte's lawyer. She sounded honestly puzzled, and Brunetti, who sat beside her, had seen her and her husband at enough family dinners to know she understood that the only dietary peculiarity of the extended Falier family – Chiara's off and on vegetarianism aside – was an insistence on ample portions and rich desserts.
No doubt wanting to save her mother the awkwardness of being caught in an open lie, Paola spoke into the general silence to explain, 'I prefer not to eat beef; my daughter Chiara won't eat meat or fish – at least not this week; Raffi won't eat anything green and doesn't like cheese; and Guido,' she said, leaning towards him and placing a hand on his arm, 'won't eat anything unless he gets a large portion.'
Everyone at the table obliged with gentle laughter, and Brunetti kissed Paola's cheek as a sign of good humour and sportsmanship, vowing at the same time to refuse any offer that might be made of a second helping. He turned to her and, still smiling, asked, 'What was that all about?' 'I'll tell you later,' she said and turned away to ask a polite question of her father.
Apparently having decided not to comment on the Contessa's remarks, Franca Marinello said, when Brunetti's attention returned to her, 'The snow on the street's a terrible problem.' Brunetti smiled, quite as if he had neither noticed her shoes nor been listening to that same remark for the last two days.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "About Face"
by .
Copyright © 2009 Donna Leon and Diogenes Verlag AG, Zurich.
Excerpted by permission of Grove Atlantic, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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