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see you this afternoon,' Vianello said and left the office.
    Brunetti turned back to the file, opened it, and read off the phone number listed for Trevisan s house. He dialled the number. It rang ten times before it was answered.
    'Pronto? a male voice said.
    'Is this the home of Avvocato Trevisan?' Brunetti asked.
    'Who's calling, please? ’
    This is Commissario Guido Brunetti. I'd like to speak to Signora Trevisan, please.'
    'My sister isn't able to come to the phone ’
    Brunetti flipped back to the page in the file that listed Signora Trevisan's maiden name and said, 'Signor Lotto, I'm sorry to bother you at a time like this, even sorrier to bother your sister, but it is imperative that I speak to her as soon as possible.'
    'I'm afraid that's impossible, commissario. My sister is under heavy sedation and can see no one. She's been destroyed by this .'
    'I realize the pain she must be suffering, Signer Lotto, and I extend my most sincere condolences. But we need to speak to someone in the family before we begin our investigation. ’
    'What sort of information do you need?'
    'We need to get a clearer idea of Avvocato Trevisan's life, of his business dealings, his associates. Until we have some idea of this, we'll have no idea of what might have motivated this crime.'
    'I thought it was a robbery,' Lotto said.
    'Nothing was taken from him.'
    'But there's no other reason to kill my brother-in-law. The thief must have been scared away.'
    "That's entirely possible, Signor Lotto, but we'd like to speak to your sister, if only to rule out other possibilities and thus allow ourselves to follow the idea of a robbery.'
    'What other possibilities could there be?' Lotto asked angrily. ‘ I assure you, there was nothing in my brother-in-law's life that was in any way unusual.'
    ‘I have no doubt of that's being true, Signor Lotto, but still I must speak to your sister.'
    There was a long pause and then Lotto asked, 'When?'
    This afternoon,' Brunetti said and kept himself from adding, 'if possible ’ .
    There was another long pause. 'Writ, please,' Lotto said and set the phone down. He was gone so long that Brunetti took a piece of paper from his drawer and began to write 'Czechoslovakia' on it, trying to remember how the word was spelled. He was on his sixth version when the phone was picked up again and Lotto said, 'If you come at four this afternoon, either I or my sister will speak with you.'
    'Four o'clock,' Brunetti repeated and then gave a terse, ' I’ll see you then,' before saying goodbye and hanging up. From long experience, he knew how unwise it was to seem grateful to any witness, no matter how sympathetic they might be.
    He glanced down at his watch and saw that it was well past ten. He called the Ospedale Civile but, after speaking to five different people at three different extensions, got no information about the autopsy. He often thought that the only safe procedure a person could undergo at the Ospedale Civile was an autopsy: it was the only time when a patient ran no risk.
    With that opinion of medical prowess in mind, he left his office to go and talk to Dottoressa Zorzi.

7
    Brunetti turned right when he left the Questura, up towards the Bacino of San Marco and the Basilica. He was startled to find himself in full sunlight; earlier that morning, he had been so surprised by the news of Trevisan's murder that he had ignored the day given to the city, filled with the light of early winter and now, in mid-morning, so warm he regretted having worn his raincoat.
    Few people were out, and those who were all seemed lifted almost to joy by the unexpected sun and warmth. Who would believe that, only yesterday, the city had been wrapped in fog and the vaporetti forced to use their radar for the short ride out to the Lido? Yet here he was, wishing for sunglasses and a lighter suit, and when he walked out to the waterside, he was momentarily blinded by the reflected light that came flashing up from the water. Opposite him,