Valerio Varesi - Gold, Frankincense and Dust

“And what blew you off course?”

“Life with you was too routine, that was the first thing. Then the other man came along and made me feel desired once again.”

“You liked him, that’s all there was to it. And perhaps you still do.”

Angela did not deny it. “I never considered leaving you. Maybe if it had all worked out with the other man, I’d have had to choose. But, I don’t know how to say this …”

“In what way did it not work out? Tell me who I have to thank?”

“Chance, providence,” Angela said with a laugh. “A couple of days ago I bumped into a colleague I hadn’t seen for ages. It just so happened that both of us were due to have trials before different courts, but both trials collapsed. What sort of coincidence was that? We found ourselves having a coffee in the same bar. In the course of the conversation, gossiping about mutual friends, the talk turned to the other man. She didn’t know what had been going on between me and him, but she let slip that last month he had been courting her insistently. In other words, he was trying it on with both of us at the same time.”

“So I should send a bouquet to your colleague.”

“Maybe it would all have ended in any case,” Angela said, without much conviction.

“I doubt it. You were fond of him, and if he hadn’t slipped up, which you found out about by pure chance, you’d be with him still and you’d have left me,” Soneri groaned.

“At some stage, I’d have had to make up my mind.”

“You’d have chosen him. He excited you, you were elated.”

“He made me feel important.”

Soneri fell silent. He was gripped by anxiety over what might have been. “You had effectively left me. You were about to tell me so when something made you turn back. I was already an ex.”

“But now we’re here,” she said.

“By pure chance.”

“We are light, unbearably light, made of nothing. We can only seize the moment, but we can’t claim there is any continuity in what we are, nor can we make plans that are anything more than vague desires. In a flash something can change the unstable formula of our attachments. It’s an infinite round of waltz steps. Life produces saints and killers, monks and pimps, thieves and honest men.”

“Now it has produced the two of us, and has allowed us once more to walk a little way together. It’s no good thinking too far ahead,” Angela said.

“Alright. Let’s take full advantage of this opportunity your other man has offered us,” Soneri said, taking out his mobile to call the investigating magistrate.

“Dottoressa, do you have a moment? It appears to be the case that Nina was a link in a chain for the distribution of cocaine, centred on the Cerreto club. In the next couple of days, you’ll have in your hands a memorandum written by Candiani for his defence. That Aimi needs more attention as well.”

As they spoke he could hear in her voice annoyance and disappointment over that human betrayal of his. “But, forgive me, why are you telling me this? I entrusted the case to you.”

“We’re talking about drugs now, something for the narcotics squad to look into. For the rest, no need to look any further than Musumeci, who took care of Candiani.”

“Look here, and I’m saying this for your sake, it seems they want to take the case out of your hands. I don’t get it,” she said.

“Capuozzo was right. It’s as well to stop at a certain point. I have no desire to sink any deeper into this shit.”