Clotilde was about to protest, but Cassanu raised his hand and continued.

‘You see, my dear girl, right now you’re looking at me with that pitying look, as if you think I’m about to die here at the foot of this cross. No one here, no one in our clan, looks at me with pity. No one has ever called me Papé.’

She was aware that she wouldn’t get anything more out of her grandfather; no statement, no confession. It didn’t matter, she had expected that, and it wasn’t what she had come searching for.

‘Nor do I, if you’ve noticed, I don’t call you Papé any more. The little girl who called you Papé died, Cassanu, on 23 August 1989, on the rocks of Petra Coda. Her family died. Her childhood died. Everything died that day. We have at least one point in common, Cassanu – we both lost our hopes and dreams that evening. So if I came up here to see you, it wasn’t to make you break the omertà, nor was it out of pity.’ She stressed that last word. ‘I need you. I need you to do me a favour.’

The old man’s dark eyes lit up again.

‘What is it?’

‘A favour that only someone who isn’t afraid of the police could do. Someone who isn’t afraid of making his own laws.’

‘What makes you think that’s me?’

‘I may not be part of your clan, but it still seems obvious to me that you aren’t too keen on official justice, and that you don’t put too much trust in the local Prefect, in the notaries, in the police …’

This made him smile.

‘I’ve tried as best I can, throughout my life, to correct injustices.’

She rested a finger on his lips.

‘Shh. You remember the words you said to me here, twenty-seven years ago? A throwaway phrase: “You never let go, do you, my dear girl? You would make a good lawyer.” And I did, in the end, perhaps thanks to your advice. So do let me know when you need my professional services, but in the meantime I don’t want to know anything about businessmen who sank to the bottom of the sea, or villas that went up in smoke, about the unidentified body that was found in Crovani Bay this morning, according to the radio, about the trucks that exploded with their cargo on the Algajola road … Even though I think it’s a shame that Cervone Spinello wasn’t on that list.’

That drew another smile. He was getting his strength back; perhaps Papé wouldn’t need to be taken home by helicopter. She went on confidently.