When in Rome

The taxi screeched to a halt as the man crammed on his brakes. The police car drew alongside and Sweet hurled himself through the opposite door.

For a moment he showed up in the sea of traffic: a well-dressed man in an English overcoat and tweed hat. Then he went down under an oncoming van.

“He is not expected,” Bergami said, “to recover consciousness.”

Since Sweet’s escape had been reported, less than half an hour had elapsed. During the interval, while Valdarno and his Vice-Questore were still at blast-off potential, Giova

He was questioned by Bergami with occasional interjections from Valdarno. This time there was no translation and only Alleyn knew what was said. The travellers leant forward in their chairs and strained and frowned as if they were physically rather than intellectually deaf. It was difficult, indeed, to think of any good reason why their presence was supposed to be desirable. “Unless,” Alleyn thought, “we are to become bilingual again and some sort of confrontation is envisaged.”

The official ma

After a prolonged skirmish leading nowhere in particular Giova

This turned out to be the overstatement of the day. What he was prepared to do, and did, was accuse Major Sweet of murdering Sebastian Mailer. He said that while he himself was i

“Something told me it was so,” said Giova

“For ‘instinct,’ ” Il Questore said, “read ‘experience.’ ” Bergami laughed rather in the ma

“And what steps,” Valdarno asked nastily, “did this instinct prompt you to take?” He glanced at Alleyn.

Giova

“His remarks are unimportant. Continue.”

Giova

“This is nothing,” said Valdarno, flicking it away with his fingers.

Ah, said Giova

“At the time, Signor Questore, I was at a loss to understand — but now, now I understand. Signor Questore. I,” said Giova

And it was at this point that the telephone had rung. Bergarmi answered it, received the news of Sweet’s catastrophe and informed his superior.

“He is not expected,” he had said, “to recover consciousness.”

“And while we’re on the subject of expression,” Alleyn thought, “if ever I’ve seen incredulous delight flash up in anybody’s face it’s now. And the face is Giova

Five minutes later came the information that Hamilton Sweet had died without speaking.

Valdarno unbent so far as to convey this news to the travellers. And again relief, decently restrained, was in the air. Barnaby Grant probably voiced the majority’s reaction when he said: “For God’s sake don’t let’s go through the motions. He was a disastrous specimen and now it seems he was a murderer. It’s beastly but it’s over. Better for them — all three of them — by a long chalk and for everybody else that it should be so.”

Alleyn saw Sophy look steadily at Grant for a moment and then frowningly at her own clenched hands. The Baron made sounds of agreement but his wife, disconcertingly, broke into protest.

“Ah, no, ah no!” cried the Baroness. “We ca

She appealed from one to another of the hearers and finally to her husband. Her eyes filled with tears. “No, Gerrit, no! It is dreadful to think,” she said. “The Violetta and this Mailer and the Sweet: between them was such hatred! Such evil! So close to us! I am sick to think of it.”

“Never mind, my darling. It is gone. They are gone.”

He comforted her in their own language, gently putting one of her large hands between his own two enormous ones as if to warm it. He looked round at the others with that winged smile inviting them to indulge a childish distress. They responded awkwardly.

Valdarno said that they would all perceive, no doubt, that the affair now wore an entirely different complexion. It would be improper, until legal pronouncements had been made and the case formally wound up, for him to make a categorical pronouncement but he felt, nevertheless, that as representative of the Minister for the Interior he might assure them they would not be unduly troubled by further proceedings. They would be asked to sign a statement as to their unfortunate experience. Possibly they would be required to give formal evidence and should hold themselves in readiness to do so. And now, perhaps, they would be kind enough to wait in the next room while Vice-Questore Bergarmi prepared a statement. He greatly regretted—

He continued in this strain for a few more rounded periods and then they all stood up and responded as best they could to a ceremonial leave-taking.

Alleyn remained behind.

“If it would save trouble, Signor Questore,” he said, “I’m at your service — you’ll want an English transcription of this statement for instance. And perhaps — as I was there, you know—?”