-20-

The police station in Travenì looked like a mountain hotel. Until twenty years ago, the border crossing nearby had bustled with activity, and there had been almost fifty officers stationed there. The station’s decline had begun with the lifting of customs controls, and now most of its rooms lay empty, its cafeteria dismantled. Hugo Knauss and his team made do by cooking their own food or bringing in meals prepared at home by their wives. Some officers still spent nights there, returning to the bottom of the valley at the end of the week—unless it was their turn to take the weekend shift.

That was where Teresa had decided to base the investigation. She’d had a sizeable room set up for meetings between her team and the local police, the first of which had just begun. They hadn’t got off to a good start.

Teresa looked at Knauss over the frame of her reading glasses.

“Are you telling me we already have names and surnames for a pool of potential suspects?” she asked him, enunciating every word. Those who knew her well knew this was never a good sign.

Knauss held her gaze with his customary lopsided smile, which Teresa had begun to find exasperating.

“We have the situation under control, Superintendent,” he assured her.

She rubbed her eyes beneath her spectacles.

“I’m glad to hear that, Chief Knauss. What a relief,” she replied.

“Now let’s not get personal about this.”

“I’m not, but I might if you keep at it.”

Knauss did not respond.

“So,” Teresa pressed, “do we or do we not have a list of suspects?”

He surrendered—at least for the time being.

“We do,” he confirmed.

Teresa took off her glasses, and placed them folded onto the table in front of her.

“Then why the hell didn’t you say so before?” she asked.

His smile was genuine now.

“They’re good kids. I can vouch for them,” he said.

Teresa looked at Parisi, who was standing next to her, then at De Carli, and finally at Marini. It was like she was talking to them; that sequence of glances was the equivalent of a lengthy sequence of imprecations. She felt like screaming, but only allowed herself a sigh, holding her head in her hands. She felt tired in a way she wasn’t used to. Her body was alert; it was her mind that was lagging behind. She was finding it difficult to follow conversations, to pluck out the words in her head and put them into the right order.

She kept telling herself she’d just been working too hard, and willed herself to ignore how unsteady she felt. She tried to gather her thoughts, moistening her lips to make the words come out more easily. Taking a deep breath, she focused once more on the case.