“But you can tell our colleagues how the horse was killed! With all the gory details!”
“It’s one thing to hear tell of something, it’s another to see it with your own eyes.”
“Chief, I’m sorry to be so insistent, but—”
“Are you in cahoots with Augello?”
“Me, in cahoots . . . ?!” said Fazio, turning pale.
“Sorry, I’m a bit on edge.”
He really was. Because he just remembered he had said yes to Ingrid, and now he no longer felt like going to Fiacca to join the pack of assholes drooling after Rachele.
“Tell me about Prestia.”
Fazio was still a touch offended.
“Chief, there are certain things you shouldn’t say to me.”
“I’ll say it again: I’m sorry. Okay?”
Fazio pulled a sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket, and the inspector realized that he was going to recite all the personal particulars of Michilino Prestia and his associates. Some people collect stamps, Chinese prints, model airplanes, and seashells; Fazio collected bureaucratic information on individuals. No doubt when he went home he logged all the information he collected on the people he was investigating onto his computer. And on his days off, he amused himself reviewing it.
“May I?” said Fazio.
“Go ahead.”
At other times the inspector had threatened him with death if he read his notes out loud. But since he had offended him, he now had to pay. Fazio smiled and started reading. Peace had been made.
“Michele Prestia, known as ‘Michilino,’ born in Vigàta, March 23, 1953, to Giuseppe Prestia and Giovanna née Larosa, and living at Via Abete Meli 32. Married in 1980 to Grazia Stornello, born in Vigàta on September 3, 1960, to Giovanni Stornello and—”
“Couldn’t you skip that part?” Montalbano asked timidly, after he had started sweating.
“It’s important.”
“All right, go on,” said the inspector, resigned.
“—and Marianna née Todaro. Michele Prestia and Grazia Stornello have had one male child, Balduccio, who passed away in a motorcycle accident at the age of eighteen. After studying bookkeeping at a vocational school, Mr. Prestia began working at age twenty as a junior accountant at the firm of Cozzo and Rampello which presently owns three supermarkets.After ten years at this job, he was promoted to the rank of senior accountant. He resigned from this post in 2004, and has remained unemployed to the present day.”
He carefully refolded the sheet of paper and slipped it back into his pocket.
“That is all that’s officially known,” he said.
“And unofficially?”
“Shall I begin with the wedding?”
“Begin wherever you like.”
“Michele Prestia met Grazia Stornello at a wedding reception. From that moment on, he was always after her. They started going out together but managed to keep their relationship a secret from everyone. Until one day the girl ended up pregnant and was forced to tell her parents the whole story.At this point Michilino asked his employers for his vacation time and then disappeared.”
“He didn’t want to get married?”
“It was the furthest thing from his mind. But less than a week later, he’s back inVigàta from Palermo, where he had been hiding at a friend’s place, and he announces that he’s ready to make amends and marry the girl.”
“Why did he change his mind?”
“They made him change it.”
“Who did?”
“I’ll explain. Remember when I said who Grazia Stornello’s mother was?”
“Yes, but I don’t—”
“Marianna Todaro.”
And he cast a knowing glance at the inspector. But Montalbano disappointed him.
“And who’s she?”
“Whattya mean, who’s she? She’s one of Balduccio Sinagra’s three nieces.”
“Wait a second,” Montalbano interrupted him.“Are you telling me Balduccio is behind the clandestine horse races?”
“Please, Chief, stop jumping ahead like a kangaroo. I haven’t said anything about the clandestine races yet. We were still at the wedding.”
“All right, go on.”
“So Marianna Todaro goes to see her uncle and tells him about her daughter and so on. At this point Don Balduccio takes exactly twenty-four hours to locate Michilino in Palermo and has him brought back, to his villa, in the middle of the night.”
“Kidnapping.”
“You can imagine how frightened Don Balduccio is of being charged with kidnapping!”
“So he threatens the kid?”
“In his own special way. For two days and two nights he kept him in a totally empty room with nothing to eat or drink. Every three hours somebody came in with a pistol, cocked the hammer, looked at Michilino, pointed the gun at him, then turned around and left without saying a word. On the third day, when Don Balduccio came to see him in person, apologizing for having made him wait—you know what Don Balduccio’s like, all smiles and fuss—Michilino got down on his knees, in tears, and asked him for the honor of marrying Grazia. And when the baby was born, they named him Balduccio.”
“And how were relations between Balduccio Sinagra and Prestia after that?”
“Well, one year after the wedding, Don Balduccio suggested that he leave his job at Cozzo and Rampello and come work for him. But Michilino refused. He told Don Balduccio he was afraid he was unworthy. So Don Balduccio let it drop.”
“And after that?”
“Well, after that—and I mean only about four years ago—Michilino developed a gambling habit. Until the day when Messrs. Cozzo and Rampello discovered they had a serious cash deficit. Out of respect for Don Balduccio, they didn’t report Prestia to the police, but forced him to resign. But Cozzo and Rampello wanted the stolen money back. They gave him three months.”
“Did he ask Don Balduccio for it?”
“Of course. But Don Balduccio told him to go fuck himself, saying he wasn’t some two-bit hood.”
“And did Cozzo and Rampello report him?”
“No, they didn’t. Because when the three months were up, Michilino came to Messrs. Cozzo and Rampello with cash in hand. He paid it all back, down to the last cent.”
“Where’d he get it?”
“From Ciccio Bellavia.”
Now, there was a name he knew! And how! Ciccio Bellavia had been the rising star of the “striddari,” the new, young Mafia that wanted to stab the old generation of the Sinagras and Cuffaros in the back. But then he betrayed his own comrades and went to work for the Cuffaros, becoming their go-to guy.
So the Mafia was behind the clandestine horse races. It could not have been otherwise.
“So was it Prestia who turned to Bellavia?”
“No, it was the other way around. Bellavia showed up one day, saying he’d heard that Prestia was in trouble and that he was ready to—”
“But Prestia should not have accepted!Taking that money was like announcing he was turning against Balduccio!”
“Didn’t I tell you right off the bat that Michilino Prestia was a nitwit? A cross between a nobody and a no-account? Don Balduccio summed it up when he said he wasn’t some two-bit hood.Then, to top it off, Prestia had to pay Bellavia back by taking on the responsibility for the illegal races. He couldn’t refuse. Which means he’s now working against Don Balduccio in business as well.”
“I somehow don’t see this Prestia aging gracefully.”
“Me neither, Chief. Sorry for asking, but do you still see a connection between the killing of the horse and the illegal races?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Fazio.You don’t see any?”
“When you first showed me the dead animal, I was the one, if you recall, who mentioned the clandestine races. But now there doesn’t seem to be anything there anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Chief, every time we form a hypothesis, it immediately gets shot down. Remember you thought that they’d stolen the lady’s horse to spite Lo Duca? Then we found out that they also took one of Lo Duca’s horses. So what need was there to steal the lady’s horse?”
“I agree. But what about the races?”