The Fallen Angel

FIVE

Agata was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, looking tired. A pretty young woman in her early thirties, doubtless worried about the job she’d start tomorrow, the first real employment she’d ever had. It was thoughtless of Falcone to invite her out, especially on dubious pretences. He’d clearly briefed Teresa fully before the meal, and was fishing for more information about Malise Gabriel and his background in the Confraternita delle Civette.

‘It’s stifling in there,’ Costa said as he joined her.

‘What is this?’ she asked with a touch of anger. ‘Why am I here? If you wish to have meals to discuss your cases, do so. But please tell Leo to leave me out of them. I saw enough of the world you live in two nights ago. I don’t want to meet it again. Not for a long time.’

He glanced at the piazza, and the Cenci building opposite.

‘It’s still there, though. “And yet it moves”.’

It was a very strange thing for someone to write on a bookmark.

‘You dragged me into one of your cases once before. I don’t want it to happen again.’

He took a deep breath and said, ‘I don’t recall that you needed much dragging. Nor is this my case. Or any case as far as I’m aware. Leo’s just. . being inquisitive. He’s interested in this man. And that message. These strange institutions. I can understand why he’d want to know more. Can’t you?’

‘It’s none of my business.’

‘I’ll let him know. Sorry. Can I walk you home?’

‘No,’ she murmured, looking down the street towards the Via Arenula and the way back. ‘Tell them thank you for the meal.’

‘Can I. . come by some time? To see how the job’s going? I am on holiday.’

‘You’re at a loose end?’ she said with a welcome smile.

‘Precisely.’

‘Well, I’m not.’

She took out her little phone and waved it at him. Agata was very well dressed for a hot Sunday night: grey slacks, a cream shirt, a necklace. Her curly black hair was no longer unruly, and once again her petite, dark face wore make-up. She looked beautiful and he wished this were the time to tell her so, though he felt scruffy and realized why both Falcone and Peroni had cast caustic glances at his oil-stained suit earlier.

‘Call first, Nic. You promise?’

‘Promise.’

She was gone so quickly there wasn’t time even for a friendly embrace. He watched her disappear back into the ghetto, the way Robert Gabriel had presumably taken when he fled after his father’s death. It seemed a distant and unreal event on a beautiful, lazy evening like this.

The rest of them tumbled noisily out of the door, Falcone and Peroni fighting each other for the privilege of picking up the bill.

‘Was it something I said?’ Teresa asked.

‘What do you think?’ Costa demanded abruptly. ‘She’s still a Catholic, you know.’

‘The truth hurts, I imagine. I still can’t believe what Ratzinger did. He tried to come back not long ago. The academic staff put a stop to that one. Wouldn’t even let him through the door.’

‘Well, there’s freedom of expression for you,’ he snapped. ‘None of this was Agata’s fault, was it?’

Teresa’s broad, intelligent face fell.

‘Oh dear. I’m sorry, Nic. I never meant to offend her. Anything but. It’s this awful heat. She doesn’t look like a nun any more. I thought. .’

She shrugged and looked very sorry.

‘She never was a nun,’ Costa pointed out. ‘And who cares about a speech from twenty years ago?’

‘When it tries to belittle the persecution of a brilliant man for telling the truth, I care. We all should,’ she insisted. Then she paused and asked, ‘Did we learn anything tonight? Really?’

The two older men stopped bickering and looked at him, waiting for an answer.

‘I learned that Malise Gabriel was an intriguing man who made enemies very easily,’ Costa said. ‘That he died in curious circumstances that may, if you look closely enough, prove to be suspicious. And also. .’ He thought about Mina Gabriel. ‘. . that he was a soldier in some kind of war, maybe. One most of us wouldn’t even understand. He must have lost all those jobs for a reason. That’s it. I’m a cop. What more do you expect?’

Teresa grinned, pecked him on the cheek and said, ‘Nothing. I wish I hadn’t upset Agata. I’ll call her and apologize. Take her out for a coffee.’

‘She’s busy.’

‘I’m persistent. I told you. It’s August. Drives you mad. And what happened at La Sapienza — it still gets to me after all these years.’

‘Do you have a case?’ Costa asked Falcone straight out.

The inspector smiled and patted him fondly on the shoulder.

‘Thanks for coming to dinner, Nic. You must excuse us. We’ve a busy day tomorrow. Enjoy your holiday. Any plans yourself?’

He thought about it and said, ‘Not really. I thought I might mess around with the Vespa. I can show you if you like. She’s round the corner.’

Falcone gazed at him in horror.

‘Quite. Sadly I have to go now,’ the inspector said. ‘Good evening.’