About Face by Donna Leon read by David Colacci

If you have not been to Venice, let me suggest that you visit the eternal city in the company of Commassario Guido Brunetti.Guido will, if you pass muster, introduce you to his wife Paola, daughter Chiara and son, Raffi. And the best time to come will be for a dinner meal of pasta prepared by Paola where the conversation will be as delicious as the meal - direct and accessible yet as finely flavored as a good Bardolinos wine savored with an after dinner aperitif and , if you are lucky, chat.
The very next day, Guido will take you to the Commissariato San Marco where he will let the various characters there introduce themselves - from Signorina Elettra to Inspectore Viennalo and so on as the occasion arises. And in this case, you and Guido will be interrupted by a Carbinieri Guareno who will ask a favor of you to help identify a man for whom he will give only the barest of descriptions. You may become as exasperated as Guido that the Maggiorenne is not as forthcoming ...
But wait before all that you must accompany Guido to an evening dinner with his In-Laws, Conte and Contessa Falier where you will be seated with Guido across the table from a 30-something beauty, Franca Marinello. She intrigues you and Guido too with her interest in early Roman writers such as Cicero, Ovid and Marcus Aurelius. The conversation turns to the Caesar's contemporary and sometime mentor Cicero. And to your and Guido's surprise this beauty has not only brains but also the gift of keen observation and strong views. The chat becomes as close to a tète-à-tète as will be allowed in Venetian social circles. You discover that her range goes well beyond Cicero and she quietly recommends Ovid's Metamorphoses to your surprise having last looked at that twisting tome in Advanced Latin class.
Some Views from Guido Brunetti's Venice
Guido notes that there is something strange about Franca's beauty - her face is almost as taut as a botox drumhead; her smiles barely break the facade in contrast to Guido's lifted eyebrow and grand facial gestures. Her voice and conversation demonstrate full flourishes but not her facial expressions - they always remain too beautifully the same.
And to your surprise this is one part of the mystery in Leon's story. The second quickly comes upon you as Guido discovers to his great dismay that Carbinieri Guareno has been shot dead before Guido can get back to him about the man he asked about. But the Maggiorenne Guareno had a silver shilling in his fatal misfortune - he was killed within the Chemical Complex that lies in Venice's jurisdiction.
And if you are a Brunetti mystery fan, you know that is important because law enforcement like love is very territorial in Italy. This circumstance allows Guido to take you on winter lined adventures through Venise the good, the bad and the ugly: an offending output spewing chemical complex. Suffice it to say Comora/Mafia and illegal HAZMAT disposal is the seemy side of the Italian landscape that Leon explores once again[infamously for most Italians - her books have barely been translated there but broadly everywhere else]. It is the inevitable danza della morte that Italian business, government and the Comora have to do decade after decade: a musical chairs dance of accommodation, strange chair-fellows and death.
The mystery in this Guido Brunetti tale is not who done it; but rather how the aristocratic Beauty and the murdering Comora Beast are tied together in this most fascinating story. Given the ending one can anticipate a continuation of the story line in perhaps Commissario Guido Brunetti mystery number 19.
Come for Venice in the splendor of the off-season and for the wonderful cast of characters. But come for the astonishingly fine thinking and conversations. True there is a logical, nuanced, almost inquisitive line of thought so well voiced by our accomplished reader, David Colacci [another bravissimo performance] - but also among all the characters, particularly Guido's wife Paola and his platoon of fellow officers. In About Face there is always a robustness of speech that of all things harkens one to Terry Pratchett as much as to Dashiell Hammet or Earl Stanley Gardner.