A Fine Line Read Free Page B

said. “Signora, do you remember already giving evidence in court some months… or rather, about a year ago?”
    The young woman nodded.
    â€œYou must answer yes, for the record.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou do remember. Good. Do you remember what you said on that occasion?”
    She sniffed before replying. She seemed very ill at ease. “More or less, yes.”
    â€œIn any case, you told the truth on that occasion?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYour Honour, I have no other questions. We have a full record of the previous hearing.”
    â€œWow, he really exerted himself,” Consuelo whispered in my ear.
    â€œIn that case,” the judge said, “defence counsel may proceed with their cross-examination.”
    Consuelo stood up, adjusted her robe over her shoulders – again giving off that slight scent of amber – and turned to the witness with a smile. Consuelo’s smile can be deceptive. She looks good-natured, with a face like a small, friendly rodent in a cartoon. If you look more closely, however, you notice a much less reassuring gleam in her eyes. Consuelo is a good lawyer, someone of almost embarrassing rectitude, but above all she’s someone you really don’t want to quarrel with.
    â€œGood morning, Signora, I’m Avvocato Favia. Together with Avvocato Guerrieri, I represent Signor Bronzino. I need to ask you a few questions, but I’ll try to be brief. Do you feel up to answering?”
    The young woman stared at her with a somewhat dazed expression, then looked around in search of help, as if tryingto make sense of the situation. You don’t expect a girl from the Andes to be a criminal lawyer in Bari, so looks of surprise are the norm. Consuelo is used to it, but it’s going to be like that for a while longer.
    â€œSignora, please answer Avvocato Favia,” the judge said in an understanding tone.
    â€œYes, yes, I’m sorry.”
    Consuelo glanced at her notes. She didn’t need to, but we all make pointless gestures when we have to start something, or finish it. “Could you tell us when and on what occasion you met the defendant?”
    â€œWe met at a party. I went with a friend of mine.”
    â€œWhen was this party?”
    â€œI don’t remember, it was years ago.”
    â€œSo you can’t answer?”
    â€œNo, how could I possibly remember?”
    â€œNo problem. After meeting the defendant at that party… By the way, whose party was it?”
    â€œI don’t know, I told you I went with a friend of mine. She was the one who knew the host.”
    â€œSo you didn’t know the host?”
    â€œNo, what’s so strange about that?”
    â€œNothing. I’m sorry. What kind of party was it?”
    Castroni stood up. “Objection, Your Honour, the witness is being asked to make a value judgement. That makes the question inadmissible, quite apart from the fact that it’s completely irrelevant.”
    â€œAll right, Avvocato,” Basile said, “let’s forget about what kind of party it was, unless there’s a specific reason to go further into this aspect of the matter. If there is, please tell us.”
    â€œYour Honour, knowing the context in which the defendant and the injured party met may help us to understand the beginning of their relationship. But I’ll drop the question,it isn’t essential. So, Signora, after meeting the defendant at this party, did you have occasion to meet him again?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œJust once, or several times?”
    â€œI think I already said, he sometimes dropped by the office—”
    â€œYou mean your place of work?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid he ever invite you out? For a coffee, for example, an aperitif, dinner?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid you ever accept any of his invitations, apart from the evening with which this trial is concerned?”
    â€œThat evening I only agreed to go