“Push this other button.”
Seeing the inspector’s expression, which looked more confused than convinced, Nicolò grew doubtful.
“Will you be able to use it?”
“Come on!” replied Montalbano, offended.
“Then why are you making that face?”
“Because I can’t very well climb onto a chair in front of the guy I want to film. It would make him suspicious.”
“See if you can reach it by standing on tiptoe.” He could.
“Then it’s simple. Just leave a book out on the table, then ca-sually put it back on the shelf, meanwhile pressing the button.”
o o o
Dear Livia,
Unfortunately I can’t wait for you to wake up. I have to go to Montelusa to see the commissioner. I’ve already arranged to have Mimì come and take you to the airport. Please try to be as calm and untroubled as possible. I’ll phone you this evening. Kisses, salvo
A traveling salesman of the lowest rank would have expressed himself with more affection and imagination. He rewrote the note and, strangely, it came out exactly the same as the previous one. Nothing doing. It wasn’t true that he had to see the commissioner; he merely wanted to skip the good-byes. It was therefore a big fat lie, and he had never been able to tell one directly to someone he respected. Little fibs, on the other hand, he was very good at. And how.
o o o
At headquarters he found Fazio waiting for him, upset.
“I’ve been trying to call you at home for the last half hour. You must’ve unplugged the telephone.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Some guy called saying he accidentally found the dead body of an old woman in Villaseta, on Via Garibaldi, in the same house where we caught the little kid. That’s why I was looking for you.” Montalbano felt something like an electric shock.
“Tortorella and Galluzzo have already gone there. Galluzzo just called and said it was the same old lady he took to your house.”
Aisha.
The punch Montalbano gave himself in the face wasn’t hard enough to knock out his teeth, but it made his lip bleed.
“What the hell are you doing, Chief ?” said Fazio, flab-bergasted.
Aisha was a witness, of course, just like François. But the inspector’s eyes and attention had all been on the kid. A fucking idiot, that’s what he was. Fazio handed him a handkerchief.
“Here, clean yourself up.”
o o o
Aisha was a twisted little bundle at the foot of the stairs that led up to Karima’s room.
“She apparently fell and broke her neck,” said Dr.
Pasquano, who’d been summoned by Tortorella. “But I’ll be able to tell you more after the autopsy. Although to send an old lady like this flying, you’d only need to blow on her.” “And where’s Galluzzo?” Montalbano asked Tortorella.
“He went to Montelusa to talk to a Tunisian woman the deceased was staying with. He wanted to ask her why the old lady came back here, to find out if anybody had called her.” As the ambulance was leaving, the inspector went inside Aisha’s house, lifted a stone next to the fireplace, took out the bank book, blew the dust off, and put it in his pocket.
“Chief !”
It was Galluzzo. No, nobody had called Aisha. She’d simply decided to go home. She woke up one morning, took the bus, and did not miss her appointment with death.
o o o
Back in Vigàta, before going to headquarters, he stopped in at the office of a notary named Cosentino, whom he liked.
“What can I do for you, Inspector?”
Montalbano pulled out the bank book and handed it to the notary, who opened it, glanced at it, and asked:
“So?”
The inspector launched into an extremely complicated explanation; he wanted him to know only half the story.
“What I think you’re saying,” the notary summarized,
“is that this money belongs to a woman you presume to be dead, and that her son, a minor, is her only heir.”
“Right.”
“And you’d like for this money to be tied up in some way, so that the child could only enter into possession when he comes of age.”
“Right.”
“But why don’t you simply hold on to the booklet yourself, and when the time comes, turn it over to him?”
“What makes you think I’ll still be alive in fifteen years?”
“I see,” said the notary. He continued: “Let’s do this: you take the book back with you, I’ll give the matter some thought, and let’s talk again in a week. It might be a good idea to invest that money.” “It’s up to you,” said Montalbano, standing up.
“Take the book back.”
“You keep it. I might lose it.”
“Then wait and I’ll give you a receipt.”
“If you’d be so kind.”
“One more thing.”
“Tell me.”
“You must be absolutely certain, you know, that the mother is dead.”
o o o
From headquarters, he phoned home. Livia was about to leave. She gave him a rather chilly good-bye, or so it seemed to him. He didn’t know what to do about it.
“Is Mimì there yet?”
“Of course. He’s waiting in the car.”
“Have a good trip. I’ll call you tonight.” He had to move on, not let Livia tie him up.
“Fazio!”
“At your command.”
“Go to the church where Lapècora’s funeral is being held. It must’ve already started by now. Bring Gallo along.
When people are expressing their condolences to the widow, I want you to approach her and, with the darkest look you can muster up, say: ‘Signora, please come with us to police headquarters.’ If she starts to make a scene, starts screaming and shouting, don’t hesitate to use force to put her in the squad car. And one more thing: Lapècora’s son is sure to be there in the cemetery. If he tries to defend his mother, hand-cuff him.”
o o o
ministry of transportation and automobile
registration:
concerning the extremely sensitive investigation of homicide of two women names karima and aisha absolutely must know personal particulars and address of owner of automobile license plate am 237 gw stop please reply promptly stop signed salvo montalbano vigata police montelusa province.
At the Automobile Registration office, before passing the fax on to the person in charge, they were sure to have a laugh at his expense and think him some kind of idiot for the way he formulated his request. But the person in charge, for his part, would understand the gambit, the challenge hidden in the message, and be forced to make a countermove. Which was exactly what Montalbano wanted.
2 1 5
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16
Montalbano’s office was located at the opposite end of the building from the entrance to police headquarters, and yet he still heard all the shouting that broke out when Fazio’s car arrived with the widow Lapècora inside. Though there were hardly any journalists or photographers around, dozens of idlers and rubberneckers must have joined their modest number.
“Signora, why were you arrested?”
“Look over here, signora!”
“Out of the way! Out of the way!”
Then there was relative calm and someone knocked at his door. It was Fazio.
“How’d it go?”
“She didn’t put up much resistance. But she got upset when she saw the journalists.”
“What about the son?”
“There was a man standing next to her in the cemetery, and everyone was expressing their condolences to him too, so I thought he must be the son. But when I told the widow she had to come with us, he turned his back and walked away. So I guess he wasn’t her son.” “Ah, but he was, Fazio. Too sensitive to witness his mother’s arrest. And terrified that he might have to pay her legal fees. Bring the lady in here.”
“Like a thief, that’s how you’re treating me! Just like a thief !” the widow burst out as soon as she saw the inspector.