Transient Desires (Commissario Brunetti #30)(55)

Again, he made his noise. He, too, had heard too many of them.

‘Blessing said that after this boat – the golden one – had sailed for some time – she didn’t know how long – she could see lights in the direction they were heading and thought it must be the land, when a big boat started to approach from farther out at sea. It stopped and turned a searchlight on them: they must have spotted them because there was a full moon that night, and no clouds. Blessing said the men in their boat – there were four of them, two were white and two were Nigerians who spoke Edo – ordered them all to lie on the bottom. There was water and it stank. And the men put tarpaulins over them and told them not to move. She heard the other boat getting closer and closer.’ Nieddu drew a very deep breath; her voice tightened.

‘She heard the engines of the other boat grow louder, and then two of the men pulled back the tarpaulins and started throwing the women over the side.’

Something inside Brunetti froze and he had to tell himself to breathe.

‘Blessing knew how to swim, but the other girl didn’t. She said there were girls all around her, in the water, screaming. Then one of the white men was in the water, too, pulling at the girls like he wanted to get them back close to the boat. Blessing grabbed a rope that was hanging over the side of the boat and wrapped her arm around it. Another girl was at the end of her other arm, but she couldn’t let go of the rope to try to help her. No one was screaming any more: the other pairs of girls were gone, and the one she was handcuffed to was quiet: Blessing said she floated. She held on to the rope. The men in the boat grabbed the man and hauled him up; they shouted at him.

‘In the meantime, the big boat passed them and kept going. She doesn’t know why. It went away, and then she heard the Nigerian men in the boat laughing and saying these weren’t real mermaids because they couldn’t swim.’

Nieddu stopped here and brought her drink to her lips but set it down without drinking. She pushed the glass away from her.

Brunetti picked up his napkin, folded it into a small square, and abandoned it on the table.

‘After a while,’ Nieddu went on, ‘the men started the motor again. That’s when they noticed the dead girl floating in the water. And then they saw Blessing, hanging on to the rope. So they dragged her into the boat and unlocked the handcuff and threw the other girl back in the water. And they made jokes about one mermaid being better than none. She just lay on the bottom of the boat, and I suppose it didn’t matter to them that she could understand them.’ There was another long pause, but Brunetti, numbed by what he had heard, was looking at the soccer shirt hanging on the wall and trying to imagine why it would be there and what was the significance of Number 10?

‘Then they took her ashore. She was the only one, and they pushed her into a van.’

Does that mean, Brunetti asked himself, that she was lucky? She’s a madwoman turning tricks on a beach or at the side of the road: is that better than being dead? ‘I’m sorry you had to hear this,’ Brunetti said.

‘And Blessing?’ she shot back.

‘My God, she exceeds all pity,’ Brunetti said. For long moments, speech was impossible.

‘By the time we finished talking,’ Nieddu continued, voice emotionless, ‘everyone had gone home. My colleagues had questioned the other girls, but not really, and let them go. So I told Blessing she could leave, too.’ Nieddu started to say something else, paused, and pretended to cough.

‘What is it?’ Brunetti asked.

‘I gave her one of those cheap Nokia telefonini you can get for twenty Euros. My number’s programmed into it, so she can call me if she needs help.’ She tried a tentative smile and added, ‘I put twenty Euros of pre-pay in it.’ She shook her head, as if at her own foolishness, then added: ‘The number is registered to a cheese store in Cremona. So she can say she found it if she has to. Or toss it away.’

‘Very clever.’

Nieddu said, ‘She doesn’t need more risk in her life.’

‘A rock would cry,’ Brunetti said before he thought. He reached over and touched her arm lightly.

She nodded. ‘Once they were people, and now they’re merchandise.’

‘Except they kill them now,’ Brunetti said.

Nieddu stared across the small table at him, apparently at a loss for what to say. He watched as she started to say something but then pause and edit it. Finally she said, ‘Dante has lots of circles, but it’s still all Hell.’

Brunetti made no comment. He looked at his watch and saw that it was close to eight. He took some coins from his pocket and put them on the table.

He got to his feet. Without understanding why it was import-ant to know, but knowing that it was important, he asked, ‘Is there someone you’ll go home to?’

She looked up at him, incapable of hiding her surprise, and then she smiled, incapable of hiding that, too.

‘Yes,’ she said getting to her feet. ‘How kind of you to ask.’

‘I’m sorry for . . .’ he began but let his voice trail off. He waved a hand over the table, as if the glasses were representative of the women they had talked about. One glass had somehow shifted dangerously close to the edge of the table and was in danger of falling off.

He reached down and slid it towards a safe place near the centre of the table.