My House in Umbria Page #7

You never know what's going to happen

in the next chapter.

I hope it will be a happy ending...

like in one of your stories.

Life isn't always like my stories.

Sometimes you have to make

your own happy endings.

Look.

See?

I thought you'd nodded off.

- What time is it?

- It's dinnertime.

Put your face on, now. Come down.

We're all going to miss her, Emily.

It's been a long while

since you've called me that.

I just forgot.

At dinner we were all very quiet...

Iost in our own private thoughts.

As I looked around the table, I was aware

of the other, unseen phantom guests:

Phyllis, Francine...

the General's wife, his daughter,

his son-in-law...

Werner's girlfriend Madeleine...

and behind me,

the father who wasn't my father...

Ernie Chumps...

and the couple who perished when

their motorcycle soared towards heaven...

over The Wall of Death.

Sometimes...

I feel as though we were all...

in a story that's being made up

as each day passes.

- More wine, General?

- Just a drop, yes.

Girotti was looking for you today.

What do you mean? He came here?

He did. You'd better give him a ring.

If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go for a walk.

Yes, it's a lovely evening.

Good night, Aimee. Sleep well.

Night.

Remember, we've got a long day

ahead of us tomorrow.

Thought you'd turned in.

I was just about to, General.

All right if I have a bite of cheese

to go with this?

Not much of an appetite earlier.

Of course.

- Did I hear the front door?

- Yes.

Riversmith.

He's gone to bed.

It'll seem strange without her.

- It will.

- Will indeed.

I'll say good night, General.

There's something I have to do.

Good night, Mrs. Delahunty.

Good night.

Mr. Riversmith?

What is it?

No, it's all right.

Nothing's wrong.

What time is it?

Not yet midnight.

- Is something the matter?

- No.

Nothing's wrong.

I thought we might share a farewell glass.

I was sound asleep.

We have to talk.

What talk?

This time tomorrow you'll be gone.

Just a sip.

Mrs. Delahunty,

we have nothing to talk about.

It's unkind...

to call me Mrs. Delahunty, Tom.

It's not even my real name.

The fact that my sister's child

spent some time in your house...

after the tragedy

doesn't entitle you to harass me.

I've been thinking about him so much.

Why did he do it?

What...

terrible anger must have possessed him?

What are you talking about?

But he loved her.

I really believe that.

He may have agreed to help them.

But I saw how he stroked her arm...

in the railway carriage.

He was in love with her.

Truly in love.

You talking about the German boy?

He must have been led into it.

He seems so mild, so gentle.

He made a confession to you?

Is that what you're saying?

I'd love it if you'd take just a sip of...

No, I don't want any goddamn grappa!

Why do you keep pushing drinks on me?

All hours of the day and night,

you seem to think I need a drink.

You make appalling accusations and...

I only said it might be so.

None of us can be certain about anything.

Only the perpetrators, we both know that.

Do you have any grounds for saying

what you said about the German?

I had a dream.

A dream?

And I see it...

in his face...

in his soul.

It's a dream!

That's all the evidence you have?

What other evidence do you need?

Given the right circumstances...

all of us are capable

of the most appalling things.

And even if Werner is guilty...

there's the chance of redemption

in a child's forgiveness.

And for Aimee, a way back to herself

in offering it.

That is preposterous.

How can you possibly suggest that Aimee...

could have friendship with a boy

you claim might have murdered her family?

It's monstrous.

Listen to me.

Do you know the Italian word, colpa?

It means guilt.

All of us...

feel colpa about something.

It's a burden we all have to bear.

Do not, I beg you...

let colpa stand in the way of your actions.

I don't understand

what the hell you're talking about.

I think you do.

You feel colpa...

because you never made peace

with your sister.

And because of that, you feel obliged

to take the child back with you.

For God's sake!

Be honest with yourself, admit it.

Please! Just stop it, will you?

Aimee is happy here.

She's as happy as she can be,

at the moment.

Don't destroy her one chance

of happiness...

because of your own sense of guilt.

You haven't touched your grappa.

A drink would do you good.

No, I don't want any...

Oops, sorry.

You're extremely drunk.

It's easy to say that.

Easy way for a man to turn his back.

Keep away from me. Don't come any closer.

Just...

stay away.

Leave me alone, Mrs. Delahunty.

I want to go to sleep.

You're a man who always sleeps.

You'll sleep your way to the grave.

Hell is where men like you wake up...

with flames curling around their naked legs.

It's 9:
00. Come on, time to get going.

Aimee, come on.

We don't want to miss the flight.

Go in the back and get yourself strapped.

That's it. Get yourself in, now.

Got your seat?

Bye, Rosa.

I am relying on your discretion,

Mrs. Delahunty.

Of course.

- I wish to talk to you...

- About Werner.

Are you also a mind reader?

I feel he's the one you're looking for.

Feel?

I had a dream.

Tell me.

In the dream there was a demonstration.

Young people carrying banners,

and Werner was amongst them.

The police used water canon.

It was very violent.

And then, I remember...

there was a big building.

It was an office, I think.

Werner was there, and the girl,

and they met...

by accident, it seemed.

But I think it was planned, because they...

They needed to use her.

They needed her to carry the bomb.

Is he in his room?

He's left.

Left?

Ask Quinty. Two men came in a car.

"There seemed to be

a difference of opinion," Quinty said.

I think it was something more significant.

This dream of yours, was it inspired...

or provoked by anything

the young German had told you?

He told me the girl was an interpreter.

That she worked for a big company,

one of those multinational companies.

Nothing else?

He said he was interested in politics.

The girl was on her way to the airport.

She was traveling with

senior company executives in a private jet.

Amongst the debris of carrozza 219...

we found fragments of a barometric switch.

Clearly the bomb was meant

to explode while the plane was airborne.

It must have gone off by mistake.

We have also made a connection between

Werner and a group of political activists.

The fact that

he seems to have disappeared...

makes me believe

that our suspicions were correct.

It was a remarkable dream.

Dreams are remarkable, Inspector.

Much undervalued.

Maybe so.

The girls in my romances

are never left abandoned by their lovers.

Mothers do not turn their backs

on little children.

Harsh fingers never probe innocent bodies

in the darkness of a cinema.

The somber side of things

does not appeal to me.

I imagined their plane

flying across the Atlantic.

Time would be gained.

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