The Patience of the Spider (5 page)

She suddenly stood up, seeing the inspector do the same.

Then she made a move that Montalbano mistakenly interpreted
as the start of a belly dance.
Okay, okay, Ill summon you down to the station, he
said, racing toward the door.

Seeing the inspector appear unexpectedly before him, Catarella
nearly fainted.
Jesus, what a pleasant sprise! Jesus, iss so nice tsee you all
over again, Chief!

No sooner had Montalbano entered his office than the
door slammed violently against the wall. Since he was no
longer used to this, the inspector took fright.

Whats going on?
A panting Catarella stood in the doorway.
Nuttin, Chief. My hand slipped.
What do you want?
Ahh, Chief! Im so ixcited tsee you that I forgot ta tell

ya that the cmishner called looking for you. Iss rilly rilly

urgint!
Okay, ring him up and put him through to me.
Hello, Montalbano? First of all, how are you?
Pretty well, thanks.
I took the liberty of calling you at home, but your . . .

the lady told me ...and so I...
What can I do for you, sir?
I heard about the kidnapping. A nasty business, it seems.
Very nasty.
Hyperbole always worked with the commissioner. But

what was he driving at with this phone call?

Well, heres the thing . . . Id like you to come back to
active dutyjust for the moment, of course, and assuming,
also, that youre up to ...Sooner or later, Inspector Augello
will have to go out in the field to coordinate the searches, and
I havent got anyone to replace him in Vig ...Do you understand?

Of course.

Excellent. So Im officially informing you that the kidnapping
investigation will be handled by Inspector Minutolo,
who, being a Calabrian . . .What? Minutolo was from Al
in Messina province. . . should know a lot about kidnappings.

Thusstrictly applying Commissioner Bonetti-Alderighis
logicone needed only to be Chinese to know a lot about
Chinese checkers.

Now you, the commissioner went on, dont go treading
on other peoples turf the way you always do. I mean it. I
want you only to lend support, or, at most, to carry on some
minor side investigations that wont wear you out but will
converge with Minutolos central investigation.

Could you give me a practical example?

Of what?

Of how I might converge with Inspector Minutolo.

He enjoyed acting like a complete idiot with the commissioner.
The only problem was that the commissioner really
believed he was a complete idiot. Bonetti-Alderighi sighed so
loudly that Montalbano heard him. Perhaps it was better not
to take the game too far.

Sorry, sorry, I think I understand. If Inspector Minutolos
conducting the main investigation, that would make him the

Po, whereas I would be the Dora, the Riparia, or the Baltea, it

makes no difference. Right?

Right, the commissioner said wearily. Then he hung up.

The only positive thing to come out of all this was that the
investigation had been turned over to Filippo Minutolo, known
as Fifan intelligent man with whom one could reason.

Montalbano phoned Livia to tell her hed been called
back to duty, if only in the role of Dora Riparia (or was it
Baltea?). But she didnt answer. No doubt shed taken the car
and gone to the museum or for a stroll in the Valley of the
Temples, as she always did when she came to Vig. He rang
her cell phone, but it was turned off. More precisely, the
recording said the person he was calling could not be reached.
And it advised him to try again later. But how can one reach
somebody who cant be reached? Just by trying again later? As
a rule, the telephone people tended toward absurdity. They
said, for example: The number you have reached does not exist ...
How could they possibly say such a thing? Every number that
one can think of exists. If a number, even one, in the infinite
sequence of numbers were missing, the entire universe would
be plunged into chaos. Didnt the telephone companies realize
this?

Whatever the case, it was now time to eat, but there was
no point in going back to Marinella. He wouldnt find anything
made by Adelina in the fridge or the oven. Informed
that Livia was staying at the house, the housekeeper would not
show up again until Livia was certifiably gone. The two
women disliked each other too much.

He was getting up to go eat at the Trattoria Da Enzo when
Catarella told him Inspector Minutolo was on the line.

Any news, Fif

Nothing, Salvo. Im calling about Fazio.

Whats up?

Could I borrow him? Because the commissioner hasnt
given me a single man for this investigation, only technicians,
who just bugged the Lofaros phone and then left. He said I
should be able to go it alone.

Because youre Calabrian and therefore an expert in kidnappings.
Thats what he told me.
Minutolo muttered something that didnt sound like unmitigated
praise for his superior.

So, can I borrow him at least until this evening?

If he doesnt collapse first. Listen, dont you think its
strange the kidnappers havent made contact yet?

No, not at all. I once had a case, in Sardinia, where they
didnt deign to send a message until a week after the kidnapping,
and then another time

You see? You are an expert, after all, just as the commissioner
said.
Go fuck yourselves, both of you!

Montalbano disgracefully took advantage of the free time and
the fact that Livia was incommunicado.

Welcome back, Inspector! You picked the right day to
come! said Enzo.

As an exceptional treat, Enzo had made couscous with
eight different kinds of fish, but only for his favorite customers.
These, of course, included the inspector, who, the moment
he saw the dish in front of him and inhaled its aroma,

was overcome with emotion. Enzo noticed but, luckily, misunderstood.

Your eyes are shining, Inspector! Got a touch of fever, by
chance?

Yes, he lied without hesitation.

He scarfed down two helpings. Afterwards, he shamelessly
declared that a few little mullets might be a nice idea. A stroll
out to the lighthouse at the end of the jetty thus became a digestive
necessity.

Back at the station, he phoned Livia again. The recording
repeated that the person could not be reached. Oh well.

Galluzzo came in to report on a case involving a supermarket
robbery.

Excuse me, but isnt Inspector Augello here?

Yes, Chief, hes over there.

Well, then go over there and tell him about it. Before he
gets called into the field, as the commissioner put it.

There was no getting around it, Susannas disappearance was
beginning to worry him in earnest. His real fear was that
the girl had been kidnapped by a sex maniac. Maybe it was
best to advise Minutolo to organize a search team immediately,
without waiting for a phone call that might never
come.

He took the scrap of paper Mimad given him out of his
pocket and dialed the number of Susannas boyfriend.

Hello, is this the Lipari home? This is Inspector Montalbano.
Id like to speak with Francesco.

Oh, its you? This is Francesco, Inspector.

There was a note of disappointment in his voice. Appar

ently he was hoping it would be Susanna calling.
Listen, could you come see me?
When?
Right now, if possible.
Is there any news?
This time anxiety had replaced disappointment.
No, but Id like to talk with you a little.
Ill be right over.

4

Francesco arrived barely ten minutes later.

Its pretty quick with a motorbike, he said.

A good-looking kid, tall, well-dressed, with a clear, open
gaze. But one could see that he was being eaten alive by worry.
He sat down on the edge of a chair, nerves taut.

Were you already questioned by my colleague Minutolo?

I havent been questioned by anybody. I phoned Su-
sannas father late this morning to find out if ...but unfortunately
. . .

He stopped and looked the inspector straight in the eye.

And this silence makes me imagine the worst.

Such as?

That maybe shes been kidnapped by someone who
wants to abuse her. And that shes either still in his hands or
else hes already . . .

What makes you think this?

Inspector, everyone knows that Susannas father doesnt
have a cent. He used to be rich, but he had to sell everything.

Why? Did his business go bad?

I dont know why. But he wasnt a businessman. He

earned a good salary and had put a lot of money aside. And I
think Susannas mother also inherited a ...well, I dont know,
frankly.

Go on.

As I was saying, do you really think the kidnappers
would be unaware of the victims economic situation? Would
they make that kind of mistake? Come on! They know more
about us than the tax collectors!

The argument made sense.

And theres another thing, the kid went on. Ive
waited for Susanna outside Tinas place at least four or five
different times. After she came out, we would head back to
her house on our motorbikes. Now and then we would stop,
then wed continue on our way. When we arrived at the gate
we would say goodbye and Id go home. We always took the
same route. The most direct one, which Susanna always took.
Whereas last night she took a different road, more out of the
way. Its full of holes, almost impassable. You need a four-by-
four to get through there. Theres hardly any light, and its
much longer than our usual route. I have no idea why she
would go that way. But its an ideal place for a kidnapping.
Maybe it was a chance encounter that went bad.

The boy had a good head on his shoulders.

How old are you, young man?

Twenty-three. You can call me Francesco, if you want.
Youre old enough to be my father.

With a pang to the heart, Montalbano realized that, at this
stage of his life, he would never be the father of a kid that age.

Are you a student?

Yes, in law. I graduate next year.

What do you want to do in life?
He asked only to relieve the tension.
The same thing you do.
Montalbano thought he hadnt heard right.
You want to join the police force?
Yes.
Why?
Because I like it.
I wish you the best of luck. Listen, to get back to your

rapist hypothesis...which, mind you, is only a hypothesis.
Which Im sure youd already thought of.
Of course. Did Susanna ever mention people making

lewd propositions, obscene phone calls, things like that?

Susannas very reserved. She certainly got a lot of compliments,
wherever she went. Shes a beautiful girl. Sometimes
she would repeat them to me, and we would laugh about it. If
there was any cause for worry, Im sure she would have mentioned
it to me.

Her friend Tina is convinced Susanna ran away of her

own volition.
Francesco gave him an astonished look, mouth open.
Why would she do that?
A sudden breakdown. The pain and tension caused by

her mothers illness, the physical strain of caring for her, the
stress of studying for exams. Is Susanna a fragile girl?

So thats what Tina thinks? She obviously doesnt know
Susanna! Susannas nerves are bound to give out, that much is
certain, but its equally certain the breakdown wont come until
after her mother dies! Until that moment, she will stay at her
bedside. Because once she gets something in her head, and shes

convinced shes right, she becomes so determined that . . .
Shes anything but fragile! No, believe me, thats an absurd hypothesis.

Speaking of which, what is Susannas mother sick with?

To be perfectly honest, Inspector, I dont know whats
wrong with her. A couple of weeks ago, Susannas uncle,
Carlo, the doctor, had some sort of consultation with two
doctorsone whod come down from Rome, the other from
Milanand in the end they all threw their hands up. Susanna
explained to me that her mother is dying of an incurable disease:
the refusal to live. A kind of fatal depression. When I
asked the reason for this depressionsince I believe there always
has to be a reasonshe answered evasively.

Montalbano steered the conversation back to the girl.
How did you meet Susanna?
Purely by chance, in a bar. She was with a girl I used to

go out with.
When was this?
About six months ago.
And you hit it off straightaway?
Francesco gave a broad smile.
It was love at first sight.
Do you do it?
Do what?
Make love.
Yes.
Where?
At my place.
Do you live alone?
I live with my father. But hes away a lot, often travels

abroad. Hes a wholesaler in lumber. Right now hes in

Russia.

What about your mother?

Theyre divorced. My mothers remarried and lives in
Siracusa.

Francesco opened and then closed his mouth, as if he
wanted to add something.

Go on, Montalbano prodded him.

But we dont . . .

Say it.

The kid hesitated. It was clear he felt embarrassed talking
about something so private.

Youll see, the inspector continued, when you become
a policeman yourself, you too will have to ask indiscreet questions.

I know. I merely wanted to say that we dont do it very
often.

She doesnt want to?

No, not exactly. Im always the one who asks her to come
to my place. But every time Ive felt as though, I dont know,
she seemed distant, or absent. It was like she went along with it
just to please me. I realized that shes very affected by her
mothers illness. And I felt ashamed to ask her...Just yesterday
afternoon . . .

He broke off, then made a strange face, as though perplexed.

How strange . . . Francesco muttered.

The inspector pricked his ears.

Just yesterday afternoon? he pressed.

She was the one who suggested we go to my place. And

I said yes. We didnt have much time, since shed been at the

bank and then had to go to Tinas to study.