Old women, Brunetti knew, often felt a need to give their money to good causes, and very often that cause proved to be the Church. Though Brunetti would hardly call that a ‘good cause’, he knew that many people considered it to be, just as he knew that people who gave to the Church would feel no hesitation about naming it. Vianello’s aunt’s failure to do so opened a Pandora’s Box of possibility about the recipient of her generosity.

‘ “Good cause”,’ Brunetti repeated in a neutral voice. ‘ “For his father”. ’

‘That’s all she said,’ Vianello replied.

‘Have your cousins got any idea how much money is involved?’

‘Including that three thousand, maybe seven thousand in total. But she’s also got money of her own, and they’ve no way of knowing what she’s done with that.’

‘Was that what you were talking about with her now?’ Brunetti asked.

‘I was listening, not talking,’ Vianello said tiredly. ‘She called me to complain about how Loredano is bothering her.’

‘Bothering her?’

Vianello failed to smile. ‘That’s how she sees it now: she’s doing something she says is necessary. She thinks she has every right to do it, and she’s angry because her children are trying to make her stop.’

‘I’ve forgotten, Lorenzo. How many children are there?’

‘Marta and Loredano: they’re the oldest. And Luca and Paolo, the two youngest. The three boys — men, really — run the business.’

‘And your uncle? Where’s he in all of this?’ Brunetti asked.

Vianello raised his hands involuntarily. ‘I told you: he doesn’t pay attention to much. Never did, and now that he’s older and not in the best of health, it’s even worse. Loredano said he tried to talk to him and make him understand, but all he said was that his wife had her own money and could do whatever she wanted with it. Or with his. I suppose he thinks it’s some sort of proof of his masculinity that his wife can spend a lot of money: shows what a good provider he is.’