Vianello stared at his hands, as if one of his fingers were the director of the bank and he wanted to see what he was going to do.

‘What did they tell him?’

‘About the withdrawals and how she won’t tell them what she’s doing with it.’

‘And?’

‘And he said he’d call Loredano the next time she made a withdrawal and then start talking to her and keep her in the bank for as long as he could.’

‘Until someone from the family got there to see where she went?’ Brunetti asked, failing to disguise his astonishment. ‘Cops and robbers?’

Vianello shook his head, eyes still on his fingers. ‘I wish it were that easy.’

‘It’s not easy,’ Brunetti said. ‘It’s crazy.’

‘I thought so, too,’ Vianello said. ‘That’s what I told them.’

‘So?’

‘So they want me to do it.’

Brunetti found no words. He looked across at his friend, who continued to study his hands. Finally Brunetti said, ‘That’s crazier.’

‘That’s what I told them, too.’

‘Lorenzo,’ Brunetti said, ‘I don’t want to have to sit here and prise this out of you. What are you going to do?’

‘I thought about this while I was listening to her — some way to see what she’s doing — but the only idea I could come up with involves you. Sort of.’

‘Involves me how?’

‘I need you to let me do it.’

‘Do what?’

‘Ask some of the guys if they’ll help me.’

‘Help you follow your aunt?’

‘Yes. I thought Pucetti would be willing to do it if I asked him.’ Vianello looked across at Brunetti, face tense. ‘If they did it in their free time, when they’re not working, then there wouldn’t be anything illegal about it, not really.’

‘They’d just be taking a walk through the city, minding their own business,’ Brunetti snapped. ‘Just happening to be going in the same direction as the little old lady with all that cash in her purse.’ He felt a rush of indignation. Had the police been reduced to this?