‘I wish I could,’ he said ‘But somehow you’re a part of it whether you like it or not. Somehow it’s all connected with you.’
‘What do you mean by—’
‘Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. But—’ He stopped and looked at me. ‘The morning you left Milan you were hinting to Hilda that Shirer had something to do with her father’s disappearance.’
‘That’s not correct,’ I answered. ‘There was a carabinieri captain with her. He was investigating her father’s disappearance. I showed him a photograph I had of Sansevino, the doctor at the Villa d’Este.’
‘You told him to go and interview Shirer.’
‘Yes. Did he go?’
‘I don’t think so. There was an American doctor with you who told them you were balmy. However, Reece went along, but Shirer had left Milan.’ He gripped my arm. ‘What do you know about Shirer? Why did you tell Caselli to interview him?’
I hesitated. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. I had been on the point of telling him that Walter Shirer didn’t exist, that the man he thought was Shirer … But in the moment of putting it into words I was assailed by doubts. He’d only think I was crazy. And here in Naples the reason for my suspicions seemed vague and unreal.
‘You were going to say—?’
‘Nothing,’ I answered quickly.