About Face

Her mask gave no sign of how this affected her.

Perception of personal danger very often set people on the path of virtue.

Most people — however much they might deny it — had an idea of what they were getting into when they got into it.

She represents consumption,’ the Conte said, waving back at the painting. ‘Just have a look at the size of her and think of the amount she’s had to eat in her lifetime to create that mass of flesh, to make no mention of what she’d have to eat to maintain it. And look at the colour of those cheeks: that’s a woman much given to drink. Again, just imagine the quantities. And the brocade: how many silkworms perished to produce her dress and mantle, or the silk on her chair? Look at her jewellery. How many men died in the gold mines to produce it? Who died digging out the ruby in the ring? And the bowl of fruit on the table next to her? Who cultivated those peaches? Who made the glass next to the fruit bowl?

He glanced at the first page, where the world outside Venice was referred to, then skipped over to page seven, lacking the mental energy – and the stomach – to endure the five pages of political chatter; one could hardly call it news. The same faces had been appearing and the same things happening, the same promises made – with a few minimal variations in cast and title – for the last forty years. The lapels of their jackets expanded and narrowed as fashion dictated, but those same front trotters remained in the trough. They opposed this, and they opposed that, and by their selfless efforts they vowed to bring the current government crashing down. So that what? So that, next year, he could stand at the bar and drink a coffee and read the same words, now in the mouths of the new opposition?

blah, “the micropolveri have risen to a point fifty times the legal limit”.’ She dropped the paper back to the floor and looked across at her father. ‘That’s what I don’t understand: if the limit is a legal limit, then what happens when it’s fifty times as much?’ ‘Or, for that matter, twice as much,’ Paola added. Brunetti put his fork down and said, ‘That’s a problem for the Protezione Civile, I’d say.’ ‘Can they arrest anyone?’ Chiara demanded. ‘I don’t think so, no,’ Brunetti said. ‘Make them pay a fine?’ ‘Not that either, I think.’ ‘Then what’s the purpose of having a legal limit, if you can’t do anything to people who break the law?’ Chiara demanded in an angry voice. Brunetti had loved this child from the instant he learned of her existence, since the moment Paola told him she was expecting their second child. All of that love stood between Brunetti and the temptation to tell her that they lived in a country where nothing much ever happened to anyone who broke the law.

Ah, how accommodating the law could be, when it was in the hands of those who best knew how to use it.

The church, of course, had succumbed and now charged people to enter, having discovered that beauty brought more income than grace.

this man had Ranzato do some illegal shipping for him and that he dresses well and arranged to meet someone at the San Marcuola stop.’ ‘I thought you said that’s where he lives.’ ‘Well, not exactly.’ Paola closed her eyes with a great display of much-put-upon patience and said, ‘I never know whether that means yes or no.’ Brunetti smiled. ‘In this case, it means I assumed so.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because he said he’d meet someone there one evening, and that’s what we do when people come to town: we meet them at the imbarcadero near where we

He had learned over the years that most professional and social situations were pretty much like water on uneven ground: sooner or later, they would work themselves level. People, over time, generally decided who was the Alpha and who the Beta. Higher rank sometimes helped with the determination, but not always.