‘ Dottore? ’

With an effort, Gabriele got the attack under control. The screams faded, the grisly details vanished, the naked rock walls became dressed stone again.

‘I’m all right,’ he said.

‘The steps are just here. Follow me.’

They climbed the stairs and walked along a short passage. After some fumbling with his lighter and keys at the dead end, Fulvio unlocked yet another door, and promptly fell over.

‘ Porca Madonna! ’

The lighter went out and the interior behind the door was dark, but Gabriele advanced confidently, getting out his keys. He knew where he was now. Stepping over the recumbent janitor, as well as the cleaning mop and bucket he had tripped over, he unlocked and opened the inner door. The lattice steel grill protecting the shop windows gave just enough light to see by. Behind him, Fulvio had got to his feet and was groping for the switch inside the door. Gabriele’s hand grasped his arm.

‘No!’

The janitor gazed at him with a look of astonishment which had nothing to do with the absence of eyebrows.

‘No lights?’ he breathed.

Gabriele shook his head.

‘But why? What’s all this about, anyway?’

Bruised and humiliated by his fall, Fulvio sounded angry now.

‘You had your keys all along! So why all this fooling about? What’s going on?’

Gabriele had stepped forward into the centre of the room and stood looking round at the serried spines. Their discreet but sumptuous tones seemed to fill the air like gentle organ music.

Fingers yanked at his sleeve.

‘I demand an explanation, dottore!’

Gabriele placed one forefinger on his closed lips.

‘All in good time, Fulvio.’

He felt calm and strong and safe now. He knew each volume by heart, could name the title, author, edition, date and publisher from where he stood. If only he could just stay here, with a nice apartment upstairs so that he could get some sleep and have a shower and change once in a while, but still be able to come down and commune with his books at any time of the day or night!