Nothing happened. The alarm continued.

He called out again, but when there was still no response he turned to his partner, who shrugged and shook his head. The first one put his pistol back into its holster and moved a step closer to the shattered window. Above him, a window opened and someone called out, ‘Can’t you turn that damn thing off?’ Then another angry voice called down, ‘I want to get some sleep.’

The second policeman approached his partner and they peered in together, then the first raised a foot and kicked away the tall stalagmites of glass that rose up dangerously from the base of the frame. Together they climbed inside and disappeared into the back. Minutes passed and nothing happened. Then, in the same instant, the lights in the office went out and the alarm stopped.

They came back into the main room, one of them now leading the way with a flashlight. They looked around to see if anything appeared to be missing or destroyed, then stepped back through the hole in the window into the campo. It was then that they noticed the woman sitting on the stone pillar.

The one who had pulled out his pistol went towards her. ‘Signora, did you see what happened?’

‘Yes.’

‘What? Who was it?’ Hearing his questions, the other policeman came up and joined them, pleased that they had so easily found a witness. That would speed things up, prevent their having to ring doorbells and ask questions, get them a description and out of this damp autumn cold, back to the warmth of the Questura to write up the report.

‘Who was it?’ the first one asked.

‘Someone threw a rock through the window,’ the woman said.

‘What did he look like?’

‘It wasn’t a man,’ she answered.