It was the smell… the mothball stench of the clergy. The attempt to make ‘innocent’ conversation was another giveaway.
Keep your nerve, don’t look up, lock him out. Look, there’s a ragged hole in his navy-blue shetland cardie!
“Yes, it’s a Kindle.”
Steady on, you’re opening the door. Stop!
He wanted to say he didn’t believe in God, but he could prove His existence. It went like this,
God is a concept. Concepts exist, therefore… God exists.
Instead he kept his head in his book and buried himself in thought about the women in Brunetti’s life – Paola, Elettra, Griffoni.