At first Brunetti thought he was joking, but then he saw the smile disappear and realized that Rossi was serious. ‘But all of the plans are in the papers we got when we bought it,’ Brunetti said.

‘Could you show them to me?’

‘Of course,’ Brunetti answered and got to his feet. Without excusing himself, he went down to Paola’s office and stood for a moment, studying the spines of the books that lined three walls of the room. Finally he reached to the top shelf and pulled down a large manila envelope filled with papers and took it back to the other room. Pausing inside the door to open the envelope, he pulled out the grey folder they’d received, almost twenty years ago, from the notary who had handled the purchase of the apartment for them. He came back to Rossi and handed this folder to him.

Rossi opened it and began to read, his finger tracing slowly down each line. He turned the page, read the next and thus until the end. A muffled ‘Hmm’ escaped his lips, but he said nothing. He finished the file, closed it, and left it lying on his knees.

‘Are these the only papers?’ Rossi asked.

‘Yes, only what’s in there.’

‘No plans? No building permissions?’

Brunetti shook his head. ‘No, I don’t remember anything like that. Those are the only papers we were given at the time of the purchase. I don’t think I’ve looked at them since then.’

‘You said you studied law, Signor Brunetti?’ Rossi finally asked.

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Are you practising as a lawyer?’

‘No, I’m not,’ Brunetti answered and left it at that.

‘If you were or if you had been at the time you signed these papers, I’d be surprised you didn’t notice, on page three of the deed, the paragraph which states that you are buying the apartment in the state, both legal and physical, in which you found it on the day on which ownership passed to you.’