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“She was married.”
No reaction. “Was she older than Gio?”
“She was, sir. Was that Gio’s pattern?”
“As far as I know it was,” said Claudio Aggiunta. “Over the past seven years it was. Does that sound odd? The fact that I am able to put a number on it?”
Milo said, “It is pretty precise.”
“I can be precise because it was a precise event, Lieutenant. Seven years ago, Gio was rejected by a younger woman. He was twenty-two, studying architecture in Pisa, she was eighteen, the daughter of a family close to our family. The two of them were like this”—hooking one index finger around the other—“since they were children. Playing together, always together. The plan was they would marry and raise a family. I am not referring to an arranged marriage, we are not barbarians. Gio and Donatellatoldus that would be their destiny. Then Gio went to Pisa and Donatella remained in Firenze to finishscuola superiore—what you would call high school. Two months later, she met another guy and told Gio it was over. His reaction was severe.”
A long, deep breath seemed to cave his chest before he exhaled audibly. “Gio took sleeping pills, he was hospitalized, it was a terrible time for the family. He recovered but Donatella was not impressed. She married the other guy soon after. It caused a split in our families. After that, Gio said he’d only be attracted to mature women.”
Milo said, “This other family, how far did the hostility—”
Claudio waved that away. “No, no, no, not possible, like us they are not barbarians. And we repaired the split. Quickly. Donatella’sfamily blamed her, they were on our side. We do not hold on to anger. Donatella was young. One cannot plan someone else’s life. Gio claimed to understand.”
I said, “Claimed.”
“How can one be sure what goes on in here?” Patting his own heart. Exactly where his brother had been shot.
“In the end, Donatella’s life was not happy. Her marriage was a disaster. What you would call domestic violence. She tried to reconnect to Gio but he had no interest. She moved to Iceland. Works in a hotel. I think.”
Another wave. “So nothing to do with her or her family is an issue. They are fine people.”
“I’m sure they are,” said Milo, opening his pad. “But if you could give me their name?”
Claudio glared. “We do not want you disturbing them. There is no reason.”
“I won’t contact them unless my investigation points me that way.”
“It will not,” said Claudio.
Milo said nothing.
“Fine, fine, Lieutenant. I am confident so Iwilltell you: Barone. They are in the leather business. Suppliers of skins and hides. Our families have worked together for generations. Other than Donatella it is only the parents and they are elderly.”
Milo scrawled. “So after Donatella, Gio was attracted to older women.”
“Yes,” said Claudio. “Unfortunately, there were other changes, as well. He dropped out of school and traveled around the world. With no plans. With a backpack. China, Tibet, Nepal, Bhutan, Egypt, Jordan, Israel, Morocco, Tunisia. For three years we heard little from him, then he returned and announced that he wanted to get serious and join the family business.”
Long sigh.
I said, “That didn’t work out.”
“We tried. Everyone tried—Gio tried the hardest.”
“But…”
“He had no genuine interest in shoes. In anything, really.” Placing his hands together, he lowered his head. A sinner in a booth, preparing to offer confession.
No atonement followed. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling, then to the right. Another pat of his chest. “Talking about this pains my heart. It feels disloyal. Discussing my brother when he is—please excuse me.”
He rose to his feet, hurried to the door, and stepped out, leaving it open. Giving us a clear view, as he stood in the hallway and cried into his hands. Then he drew himself up but instead of returning walked to the right.
Milo got up and had a look. Returned and said, “Poor guy’s pacing,” and sat back down.
A few minutes later, Claudio Aggiunta reentered wearing the stiff mien of someone straining for undeserved calm.
