“If he’d left me his house keys, I could have just gone in. Maybe he’s sick,” the woman replied, going over to the pantry. She’d brought home two custard doughnuts from the bar. She set them down in front of Arturo. He immediately grabbed one.

“What if his neighbor has a set of keys?”

“That woman does nothing all day but quarrel with her sister who lives in the apartment facing her. You should hear the things they say to each other!”

Arturo wiped the custard filling off his chin. Still chewing, he said: “The Iezzi sisters have hated each other since they were small . . . Don’t worry, my love. This evening we can watch that program on TV with all the dancing! You like that show so much . . .”

Tatiana sat down. She poured herself a glass of water.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m not hungry, Arturo . . .”

THE DINING HALL WAS A BIG ROOM WITH A DOZEN OR SO TABLES. On the right side were the counters where the food was dished out. In the middle were two cement columns that held up the ceiling, a good thirty feet high. Rocco hadn’t followed Mauro Marini’s advice and had decided instead to risk the chicken breast. At the other end of the table, two guards in their late twenties sat down. “Ciao, Mauro . . .”

“Ah, it’s you two. Dottore! This is Mattia and this is Ugo. They were on the guard towers the day of the brawl.” Then he spoke to his colleagues: “Why don’t you move a little closer . . .”

The two men picked up their trays and slid along the bench until they were next to Rocco and Mauro. “Allow me to introduce Deputy Chief Rocco Schiavone . . . from Aosta police headquarters.”

They shook hands. Rocco noticed that the two new arrivals had opted for the chicken breast, too. “How is it?” asked Rocco, pointing to their plates.

“Well . . . at least it’s grilled, with a little lemon . . .”

Rocco took a bite. It tasted of hospital. “It’s stringy,” he said.

“I told you to stick to the side dishes!” said Mauro Marini, and shrugged his shoulders. At the far end of the room, an old man in a shiny tracksuit and a white T-shirt stood looking at the deputy chief. Rocco look up and met the man’s glance. The man smiled at him, then darted into the kitchen like a mouse.

“What can we do for you?” asked Ugo, fair-haired and freckle-faced.

“When that brawl broke out, you had a good vantage point up there to see the whole courtyard.”

“Certainly,” the other guard replied: Mattia, dark-haired and with an enormous nose. He, too, started chewing on the meat.

“Didn’t you notice anything? Cuntrera collapsing to the ground? Maybe someone who had approached him?”