‘The Arcanu jury,’ Papé went on, ‘recognised your mother’s guilt. In other times, those described by Mérimée, the days of Colomba or Mateo Falcone, Palma would have been executed.’ His hand, like a dried-out sponge, tensed in Clotilde’s. ‘Twenty-seven years ago I would have sentenced her to death without hesitation, but others were opposed to that. Lisabetta first of all, Basile too. In spite of everything Palma remained a member of our family, an Idrissi, the mother of our grandchildren. Also, Lisabetta argued, your mother hadn’t actually confessed. What if we were to learn a different truth one day? Basile put forward another argument to save her; he claimed that we couldn’t be less civilised than the justice system of the French, who no longer had the death penalty even for the worst crimes. And so the sentence was decided: life imprisonment. There was no shortage of places above Arcanu, in the maquis, to lock someone up for a lifetime. Besides, your mother didn’t protest. Even though she never confessed, she never defended herself either. She never tried to get away.’

Until today, Clotilde thought. At the time of that mockery of a trial, her mother had just lost her husband, and her son, in a car in which she should have been a passenger. Alone, traumatised, accused, cornered, racked with guilt, how could she have found the strength to defend herself?

She had lost everything that evening.

Everything but her daughter.

Clotilde was going to speak, but Cassanu rested his hand on her shoulder.

‘I am not a monster, Clotilde. Your mother lost only her freedom. That was all she could pay, the same price as any thief, any rapist or murderer. But otherwise, she hasn’t been badly treated. On the contrary, she has been treated better than any of the prisoners crammed into the jail at Borgo. I can assure you that the meals made for her by Lisabetta were better. That her guard, Orsu, was more respectful than the screws you get in jail. That his dog, Pacha, was more affectionate than Alsatians that are trained to kill. We aren’t monsters, Clotilde, we only wanted some justice.’

Clotilde took a step back.

‘And now? Now that she’s fled? What will you have achieved? She’ll run to the police and report you.’

Cassanu smiled, shaking his head.