‘And now you want the same to happen to my brother-in-law?’
If he’s game.’
Tell me what you want from him, it’s no problem.’ ‘All right, you tell him what he’s supposed to do. Here, take this. It’s a photograph of Michela Licalzi’ ‘Man, what a beauty!’
‘Now, your brother-in-law must have a photo of Maurizio Di Blasi somewhere in the studio. I think I saw them broadcast one when they reported his death. I want him to show both photos, one next to the other, on the one p.m. news, and on the evening report.
I want him to say that since there’s a five-hour gap between when she left her friend at seven thirty on Wednesday night and when she was seen going into her house with a man shortly after midnight, your brother-in-law would like to know if anyone has any information on the movements of Michela Licalzi during that period. Better yet, if anyone saw her during that period in the company of Maurizio, and where. Is that dear?’
‘Clear as day’
‘You, from this moment on, will bivouac at TeleVigata.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you’ll be there all the time, as if you were an editor. As soon as somebody comes forward with information, you show him in and talk to him. Then you report back to me.’
‘Salvo? It’s Nicolo. I’m going to have to disturb you again.’ ‘Any news? Did they send the carabinieri for you?’ Apparendy Nicolo was in no mood for jokes. ‘Can you come to the studio immediately?’
Montalbano was stunned to find Orazio Guttadauro, the controversial defence lawyer, legal counsel to every mafioso in the province and even outside the province, at the Free Channel studios.
Well, if it isn’t Inspector Montalbano, what a lovely sight!’ said the lawyer as soon as he saw him come in. Nicolo looked a tad uncomfortable.
The inspector eyed the newsman enquiringly. Why had he summoned him there with Guttadauro? Zito responded verbally, ‘Mr Guttadauro was the gentleman who phoned yesterday, the one who was hunting.’
‘Ah,’ said the inspector.
With Guttadauro, the less one spoke, the better. He was not the kind of man one would want to break bread with.
‘The words that the distinguished journalist here present,’ began the lawyer in the same tone of voice he employed in court, ‘used to describe me on television made me feel like a worm!’
‘Good God, what did I say?’
asked Nicolo, concerned.
‘You used these exact words, and I quote: “unknown hunter” and “anonymous caller”.’
‘What’s so offensive about that? There’s the Unknown Soldier..
‘…and the Anonymous Venetian’ Montalbano chimed in, beginning to enjoy himself.
‘What? What?’ The lawyer went on as if he hadn’t heard them, ‘Orazio Guttadauro, implicitly accused of cowardice? I couldn’t bear it, and so, here I am.’
‘But why did you come to us? It was your duty to go to Captain Panzacchi in Montelusa and tell him—’
‘Are we kidding ourselves, boys? Panzacchi was twenty yards away from me and told a completely different story! Given the choice between me and him, people will believe him! Do you know how many of my clients, upright citizens all, have been implicated and charged on the basis of the lying words of a policeman or carabiniere?
Hundreds!’
‘Excuse me, sir, but in what way is your version different from Captain Panzacchi’s?’ asked Zito, finally giving in to curiosity.
‘In one detail, my good man.’
‘Which?’
“Young Di Blasi was unarmed.’
‘No, no, I don’t believe it. Are you trying to tell us that the Flying Squad shot him down in cold blood, for the sheer pleasure of killing a man?’
‘I said simply that Di Blasi was unarmed. The others, however, thought he was armed since he did have something in his hand It was a terrible misunderstanding.’
‘What did he have in his hand?’ Nicolo Zito’s voice had risen in pitch.
‘One of his shoes, my friend’
While the journalist was collapsing into his chair, the lawyer continued,
‘I feel it is my duty to make this fact known to the public I believe that my solemn civic duty requires …’
Montalbano began to understand Guttadauro’s game. Since it wasn’t a Mafia killing, and he wouldn’t, by testifying, be harming any of his clients, he had a perfect opportunity to publicize himself as a model citizen and at the same time stick it to the police.
‘I’d also seen him the previous day,’ the lawyer said
‘Who?’ Zito and Montalbano asked together, both lost in thought until that moment.
‘The Di Blasi kid who else?
The hunting’s good in that area. I saw him from a distance, I didn’t have binoculars. He was limping. Then he went inside the mouth of the cave, sat down in the sun, and began eating.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Zito.
‘Are you saying the man was hiding there and not at his own house, which was a stone’s throw away?’
‘What do you want me to say, my dear Zito? The day before that, when passing in front of the Di Blasi house, I saw that the front door was bolted with a padlock the size of a trunk.
I am positive that at no point did he hide out at his house. Maybe he didn’t want to compromise his family’
Montalbano was convinced of two things: the lawyer was prepared to belie the assertions of the Flying Squad captain even as concerned the young man’s hideout, which meant that the charge against the father would have to be dropped, with grave prejudice to Panzacchi.
As for the second thing, he needed confirmation.
‘Would you tell me something, sir?’
‘At your orders, Inspector’
‘Are you always out hunting? Aren’t you ever in court?’
Guttadauro smiled at him.
Montalbano smiled back. They had understood each other. In all likelihood, the lawyer had never gone hunting in his life. Those who’d seen the incident and sent him on this mission must have been friends of the people Guttadauro called his clients. And the objective was to create a scandal for the Montelusa police department. The inspector had to play shrewdly; he didn’t like having these people as allies.
‘Was it Mr Guttadauro who told you to call me?’ the inspector asked Nicolo.
‘Yes.’
Therefore they knew everything. They were aware he’d been wronged, they imagined he was determined to avenge himself, and they were ready to use him.
‘You, sir, must certainly have heard that I am no longer in charge of the case, which in any event should be considered closed’
‘Yes, but—’
‘There are no buts, sir. If you really want to do your duty as a citizen, go to Judge Tommaseo and tell him your version of the events. Good day.’
He turned around and walked out. Nicolo came running after him and grabbed him by the arm.
‘You knew! You knew about the shoe! That’s why you told me to ask Panzacchi what the weapon was!’
‘Yeah, Nicolo, I knew. But I advise you not to mention it on your news programme. There’s no proof that things went the way Guttadauro says, even though it’s probably the truth. Be very careful’
‘But you yourself are telling me it’s the truth!’
Try to understand, Nicolo.
I’d be willing to bet that our good lawyer doesn’t even know where the fuck the cave that Maurizio hid in is located. He’s a puppet, and his strings are pulled by the Mafia. His friends found something out and decided they could take advantage of it. They cast a net into the sea and they’re hoping to catch Panzacchi, the commissioner and Judge Tommaseo in it. That would make some pretty big waves. However, to haul the net back into the boat, they need somebody strong, that is, me, who they think is blinded by the desire for revenge. Now do you get the picture?’