Liar Moon Read Free Page A

Were there problems in the Lisi marriage?”
    Bora stared at him. “They were living apart, and their separation had been unfriendly. Apparently there were still occasional violent arguments between them. Naturally the widow denies all accusations, and insists she had nothing to do with the matter, although she was reportedly unable to offer an alibi for the afternoon of the killing. Without an eyewitness, there’s no way of knowing whether she drove to the country on that day or not. Whoever killed Lisi, though, arrived and left again within a few minutes.”
    Noise from the kitchen intruded. Guidi stole a look to the door, embarrassed that his mother was banging pots and covers as a not-so-subtle hint that lunch was ready. Bora’s dark army crop moved imperceptibly in that direction.
    “Well, Major, I have to think about it—”
    Bora interrupted him.
    “What do you intend by ‘thinking’? That you haven’t decided whether you’ll collaborate with me, or that you need time before offering me suggestions?”
    “I need to think of a plan of action. I’ll phone you at the command post this evening.”
    Bora, who had scheduled an anti-partisan night raid and would not be at the post, nevertheless said it was fine.

    Over the occasional banging of pots, “We’re agreed, then.” Guidi rushed to say, “What I meant to pass on, Major, is that an escaped convict is at large between Lago and Sagràte.”
    Unexpectedly Bora smirked. “Why, thank you. We’ll lock our doors at night.”
    “He was diagnosed by Italian army physicians as criminally insane, and carries a marksman Carcano besides.”
    “6.5 or 7.35 mm calibre?”
    “8 mm.”
    Bora frowned. “Ah. Those made for the Russian campaign. They have a brutal recoil. Well, for us it’s just one more bullet to dodge, Guidi.”
    “I did my civic duty by informing the German authorities.”
    After a particularly syncopated rattle of cooking pots, the kitchen became peaceful again. Guidi breathed easily. “Did De Rosa tell you why they want to keep the murder a secret?”
    Bora openly grinned this time. “For the same reason why there are no more suicides in Fascist Italy, and people just happen to stumble on the tracks while there’s an oncoming train. Perhaps there are no murders in Fascist Italy, either. It seems Lisi was of some importance. A comrade of the first hour , in Mussolini’s words.” Bora swept his army cap from under his arm and put it on, taking a rigid step toward the door. “Colonel Habermehl recommended my name to the Republican Guard because of what he terms my part in solving other small matters. It’s only natural I should contact you, since you are the professional in the field.” He opened the door, through which a field-grey BMW was visible, with driver waiting
at attention. “My apologies to your mother for delaying your holiday meal. Goodbye.”
    Guidi waited until the army car left the kerb before calling out to his mother. “He’s gone, Ma.” Because she did not answer, he opened the kitchen door and peered in. “He left.”
    His mother had taken her apron off and was wearing her good shoes. “Gone? Why didn’t you ask him to stay for lunch?”
    “I thought you didn’t want the likes of him in the house, Ma.”
    “Honestly, Sandro! Now God knows what he’s going to think about us Italians, that we didn’t even invite him to lunch.”
     
    The shot had been fired from a distance, but even so the shutterless window of the hut had been shattered. Bits and wedges of glass spread a kaleidoscope of reflections as Guidi leaned over to examine them. Through the empty window frame, from inside, one of his men handed him the deformed bullet he’d just pried out of the wall.
    It seemed the slug had missed the farmer’s head by a hair’s breath, and only because he’d happened to turn his face away from the raw wind while hauling wood. Now he nervously stood behind Guidi with hands driven deep in his pockets.
    “Happened