Read The Marshal and the Madwoman for Free Online

here before you went to call Franco?'
    'How long . . .? I couldn't tell you.'
    'Five minutes? An hour?'
    'Oh, nearer five minutes than an hour but it may have been ten.'
    'And you didn't feel sick? Wasn't the room full of gas?'
    'I suppose so.'
    'You suppose so?'
    'It did smell awful.'
    'But not enough to make you sick?'
    'Well, I opened the window.'
    'But it wasn't the first thing you thought of doing. You went to look at Clementina's body first so I imagine you could breathe all right.'
    'I suppose ... I remember holding my breath a bit because of the smell.'
    'And you're not absolutely sure at what point you turned the gas off.'
    'I did turn it off, though . . .' But he still hesitated, frowning.
    The Marshal got off the edge of the table and went to look at the cooker.
    'You see? It's off'
    'I see.'
    He looked behind it and then pulled back the flowered curtain next to it. Behind it there were three shelves with a few plates and cups, a mug with some cutlery in it and, as he had expected, a blue gas canister underneath. Few of the houses in the old Quarter were connected to the town gas supply. The Marshal took the canister by the handles and rattled it.
    'Empty.'
    'But there must have been enough in it to kill her, poor soul,' pointed out Pippo. 'Why should she do a thing like that? Of course she hadn't a bean . . .'
    'I need to make a phone call.'
    'There's no phone here.'
    'I didn't think there would be. What about the flat below?'
    'They've probably got one.'
    The Marshal made for the door.
    'What about me?'
    'Stay where you are. Don't touch anything.' Though what use it was saying that at this stage, thought the Marshal as he plodded down the steep stairs.
    The door of the flat below was shut tight which surprised him a little. Not the nosey sort. He pushed the bell. The flat must have been as small as the one above it since he could hear voices and cutlery going quite clearly, noises which stopped when he rang. Even so, it was some time before the door was opened by the plump-cheeked young woman he'd seen before.
    'Yes?'
    'I'm sorry to disturb you but I need to telephone urgently. If you wouldn't mind . . .'
    By the look on her face she did mind but she opened the door and let him in.
    'Good evening.' The Marshal turned his hat in his hands and excused himself again to the young man sitting at the table in the kitchen to his left. There had been no hurried clearing of plates, which made the Marshal wonder why they had been so long answering the door.
    'He needs to telephone.'
    'That's all right.' The young man got up, smiling.
    'Don't interrupt your meal.'
    'I'll just show you where the phone is. Don't want you to get lost in these great halls.' He passed in front of the Marshal and switched on the light in another room. It was a cheerful living-room, filled with books and with brightly coloured rugs scattered on the floor. 'Help yourself. I'll leave you in peace.'
    The Marshal made just one call, to Headquarters in Borgo Ognissanti. His commanding officer, he knew, was away on holiday in the mountains and he was put through to a young lieutenant he didn't know. Giving the facts as briefly as he could, he finished: 'I'll stay on here until somebody from the Public Prosecutor's office arrives.'
    'Good. Well, if you feel you can cope with everything . . . You can't imagine how difficult things are here with just a skeleton staff.'
    'Of course. Don't worry, I can cope.'
    When he had hung up he glanced around the room and then switched off the lamp and opened the door. As he did so he heard the man say quietly, 'Don't worry.'
    They were sitting at the table but not eating. The Marshal told them not to get up.
    'I'll see myself out—but I'm afraid I might have to disturb you again later, or perhaps tomorrow morning. Routine inquiries, you understand.'
    'Of course—if you could make it tomorrow I'd be grateful. We'd planned to go out tonight.' His wife watched him as he spoke and then looked at the Marshal for his