‘How was he earning his dough?’

‘Same as before: working poolside, opening deck-chairs, fixing drinks, making friends.’

‘And in winter?’

She shrugged. ‘I suppose you would call him a hustler. Only he got blown around because people had more bluster than him. He was never successful in business because they always pulled something on him.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Go on.’

‘Oh, everything.’ She sighed heavily. ‘He tried to make fitness videos.’

‘And?’

‘He spent millions of lire hiring the equipment and the girls and never made a single video. I can’t remember why. He invested in a company that built swimming pools that couldn’t hold water. He imported sandals from an Austrian he had met in a bar. He paid two million up front and received seven of them. It wasn’t even an even number. He got three pairs and an odd one.’ She laughed bitterly.

‘Did he have debts?’

‘He didn’t, the rest of us did.’

‘Who?’

‘Me, his mother, Umberto. He called himself a professional gambler, as if it were something to be proud of. He borrowed from his mother constantly. That was why he had gone round there that weekend, to ask for money. He borrowed from me. Usually he would tell me about some sure project that would make us wonderfully rich, if only we could get in there first and invest before anyone else. And each time he got burnt it only made him more keen to keep trying, to prove them all wrong.’

‘And he borrowed from you?’

‘Sure. Only he knew I was drying up. I didn’t have anything left to give him, not if I wanted our child to eat. So he went after anyone who would listen to him.’

‘Umberto?’

‘Sure. It was the same with all of us.’

‘Where did he go to lose it?’

‘The same place he earned it. The Palace. He would spend more money there in a night than he could earn in a month.’

‘Cards?’

She nodded.

‘Scopa? Blackjack?’

‘Anything. He would play anything as long as there was money involved.’

‘And he ran up big losses?’

‘Like I said, we did. Not him.’

‘You always paid his debts?’

‘I had no choice. What would you have done?’

‘Doesn’t seem to have made much difference. How much?’

‘A few million lire.’

‘How often?’

She moved the top of her head from side to side as if to say that it was a regular occurrence.

We watched the grandmother lifting the child out of the swing. Ricky sounded like the usual, unreliable rover. He had settled down with a woman only long enough to get her to open her purse. He ran around Romagna trying to spin cash out of get-rich-quick schemes. He had bad debts and worse friends. The most likely scenario was that an angry, impatient creditor had caught up with him and made him pay in the highest currency there is. It might have been his brother. It might have been this woman. It might have been another gamer from the Palace.

I looked at Anna again. There was something cold and calculating about her. I had noticed it when I had mentioned inheritance.

‘Those months before Ricky went missing, anything happen?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Any unusual behaviour? New friendships?’

‘Unusual behaviour was all there was in Ricky’s life.’

‘You make him sound pretty shallow.’

‘No,’ she fixed me. ‘No, he wasn’t. He was unpredictable. He did unexpected things. If he won a lot of money he couldn’t sit on it. He would have to invite everyone around, have a big party, show he wasn’t a loser.’

‘And that summer he went missing. 1995. Anyone new in his life?’

She looked at me with tired eyes. ‘I don’t suppose he was any more faithful than other men. But I didn’t ask and he didn’t say. I would see him getting all dressed up to go out and put two and two together. But there was nothing new about that. He had been doing that ever since I was pregnant.’

‘Was he asking for money at the time?’

She closed her eyes, as if this were the first question she had thought about. ‘No, no he wasn’t.’

‘Wasn’t that unusual?’

‘Yes, I suppose it was. I didn’t think much about it because he was always saying that he was turning the corner, that this time it was for real. That he had everything sorted out. I didn’t listen to him because I had heard it all before. I recognised that excitement in his voice. It was all self-deception. We always had more money in the summer anyway. It was the only season we had regular work at the hotel. And he was a master at soliciting tips. He didn’t have time to gamble. He had even given me back some of the stuff I had lent him.’

‘How did he manage to do that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How much?’

‘Small change. A few million lire.’

‘And that day he went back to the city for San Giovanni. Where were you?’

‘I was in the caravan. He left early morning, before I was even awake. I was here all weekend.’

‘On your own?’

‘With Elisabetta.’

‘Your girl?’

‘Sure.’

‘Who was how old?’

‘Two.’

‘Not much of a witness.’

She looked at me with a sour look. ‘I’ve been through all this before. He got on a train that Saturday morning and I never saw him again.’

‘He never came back?’

‘When he wasn’t home that night, I assumed he had stayed with his mother. It happened often enough.’

‘He didn’t call?’

‘No. And I wasn’t going to call her house.’

‘And when did you report him missing?’

‘On the Monday night. He missed a shift at the hotel. He didn’t always come home, but he never missed a shift at the Palace. He was due to do the Monday night, and he didn’t show. They called me and-’

‘What did you do?’

‘I called his mother.’

‘I thought you didn’t do that kind of thing.’

She stared at me through her thick eyelashes.

‘What did she say?’ I asked.

‘That she had dropped him at the station on the Saturday night.’

Her eyes had filled up and were about to overflow. As she blinked tears fell on to her cheeks, bringing with them burnt matchsticks of mascara. ‘That’s when it all started. She made all manner of accusations.’

‘Meaning?’

‘She thought I had failed to look after him. Umberto was coming round here every other night. So was Tonin.’

‘Who?’

‘Some old guy. Massimo Tonin.’

‘What did he want?’

‘Same as all the others. Wanted to know where Ricky was.’

‘Who was he?’

She laughed. ‘Ricky used to call any new friends investors. He was probably in on some project or other. He was from one of those tiny villages near the Po. He came round here demanding to know where Ricky was.’

‘When?’

‘The first week after he disappeared. Made the same sort of accusations that everyone else has made, said I must have seen him, must know something.’

‘Why?’

‘I assume he thought I was to blame.’

‘When was this?’

‘Towards the end of that week. Once it had been made public that Ricky was missing. He seemed desperate to get hold of him.’

‘And where will I find this Massimo Tonin?’

‘He lived somewhere near the city. La Bassa I think. They had only met a few months before.’

‘Come here,’ I said, taking hold of her upper arm. She tried to shrug off my grip, but I tightened it and she stamped her heels. I walked her towards the car. I opened the door and pushed her into the passenger seat. ‘Don’t move,’ I said, walking round to the boot. I pulled out the camera, switched it on and sat behind the wheel. I held the thing towards her. She looked at the images: mourners in black walking towards the cemetery.

I flicked through the photographs and she started naming them. ‘There’s Umberto and Roberta. The boys. I haven’t seen them for years.’ She took the camera in both hands and looked at the boys’ faces.

‘You didn’t want to go to the funeral?’

‘Whatever else I am, I’m not a hypocrite,’ she said.

‘And what about Elisabetta? Doesn’t she have a right to go to her own grandmother’s funeral?’