He made a snap decision. He’d never gone to Angelo’s apartment that evening. When the woman’s body was discovered, they would think she killed herself because she couldn’t get over the loss of her brother. And that was how it should be.
He closed the door to the apartment softly, terrified that His Majesty might catch him in the act. He descended the lifeless stairs, went outside, got in his car, and drove home to Marinella.
18
The moment he entered his house, he felt very tired. Great was the desire to lie down, pull the covers up over his head, and stay that way, eyes closed, trying to blot out the world.
It was elevenP.M.As he was taking off his jacket, tie, and shirt, he managed, like a magician, to dial Augello’s number.
“Salvo, are you crazy?”
“Why?”
“Calling at this hour? You’ll wake up the baby!”
“Did I wake him up?”
“No.”
“So why are you being such a pain in the ass? I have something important to tell you. Come right away, to my place.”
“But, Salvo—”
He hung up. Then he called Livia, but there was no answer. Maybe she’d gone to the movies. He undressed completely, went into the shower, used up all the water in his first tank, cursed the saints, was about to open the reserve tank but stopped. If they didn’t deliver any water during the night, how was he going to wash in the morning? Better play it safe.
Waiting for Mimi, he decided to busy himself cutting his toenails and fingernails. Just when he’d finished, the doorbell rang and he went to open the door, still naked.
“But I’m married!” said Mimi, scandalized. “You didn’t by any chance invite me over to see your butterfly collection, did you?”
Montalbano turned his back to him and went to put on a pair of underpants and a shirt.
“Will this take long?” asked Mimi.
“Fairly.”
“Then give me a whisky.”
They sat down on the veranda. Before drinking, Montalbano raised his glass:
“Congratulations, Mimi.” “What for?”
“For solving the case of the wholesale dealer. Tomorrow you can strut your stuff for Liguori.” “Is this some kind of joke?”
“Not at all. It’s too bad they killed him, but he betrayed the trust of the Sinagra family.” “Who?” “Angelo Pardo.” Augello’s jaw dropped.
“The guy who was found shot with his dick hanging out?”
“The very one.”
“I was convinced it was a crime of passion. Women problems.”
“That’s what they wanted us to think.”
Augello twisted up his mouth.
“Are you sure of what you’re saying, Salvo? Do you have proof?”
“The proof is in a strongbox that you’ll find inside Angelo Pardo’s coffin. Go get authorization, open it up, grab the strongbox, open that, too—with the key that I’ll give you in a second—and inside you’ll find not only cocaine, but also the other stuff that turned it into poison.”
“Excuse me, Salvo, but who put the strongbox in the coffin?”
“His sister, Michela.”
“So she’s an accomplice!”
“You’re mistaken. She had no idea what her brother was up to. She thought the box—which she didn’t have the key to—contained personal items of Angelo’s, and so she put it in his coffin.”
“Why?”
“So that every now and then, in the afterlife, he could open it up, look at the things inside, and remember the good old days when he was alive.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“You mean the story of the dead guy opening the strongbox now and then?”
“I mean the bit about his sister being unaware of her brother’s dealings.”
“No. Not you. But everyone else, yes.Theyare supposed to believe it.”
“And what if Liguori interrogates her and she ends up contradicting herself?”
“Don’t worry, Mimi. She won’t be interrogated.” “How can you be so sure?” “I just am.”
“Then tell me everything, from the beginning.”
He told him almost everything, but sang only half the Mass. He didn’t tell him that Michela was neck-deep in that shit, only knee-deep; he explained that Angelo’s need for money came from his gambling addiction, thus leaving Elena discreetly in the shadows; and he informed him that Customs Police Marshal Lagana and a colleague of his could provide him and Liguori with a host of useful information.
“But how did Pardo come to know the Sinagra family?”
“Pardo’s father was a big political supporter of Senator Nicotra. And the senator had introduced Angelo to some of the Sinagras. When the Sinagras found out that Pardo was hard up for cash, they got him to work for them. Angelo betrayed their trust, so they had him killed.”
“I thought I heard that some threads of women’s panties were f—”
“Just for show, Mimi, to muddy the waters.”
They talked a little while longer. Montalbano gave him Angelo’s keys, and as Mimi was saying good-bye, the telephone rang.
“Livia, darling?” the inspector asked.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Chief.”
It was Fazio.
“I just learned that Michela Pardo’s been found dead. A suicide. Threw herself off the balcony at her brother’s place.
I’m at the station, but I have to go over there. Do you have the keys to the apartment?”
“Yes. I’ll send them over with Inspector Augello, who happens to be here with me.”
He hung up.
“Michela Pardo committed suicide.” “Poor thing! What’ll we say? That she couldn’t get over the grief?” asked Augello.
“That’s what we’ll say,” said Montalbano.
In the four days that followed, nothing whatsoever happened. Mr. Commissioner postponed his meeting with Montalbano to a date as yet to be determined. Elena never called either.
And this displeased him, in a way. He thought the girl had him in her sights and had put off the attack until the investigation was over. “To avoid any misunderstandings,” as she’d said. Or something similar.
And she was right. If she’d put her powers of seduction to work at the time, Montalbano might have thought she was doing it to gain his friendship and make him an accomplice. But now that even Tommaseo had exonerated her, there was no more possibility of misunderstanding. And so?
Want to bet the cheetah had been eyeing a different prey? And it was he who had misunderstood? He was like a rabbit that sees a cheetah coming after it and starts running away in terror. All at once the rabbit no longer senses the ferocious beast behind it. It turns and sees the cheetah pursuing a fawn.
The question was this: Why, instead of feeling happy, did the rabbit feel a wee bit disappointed?
On the fifth day, Mimi arrested Gaetano Tumminello, a man from the Sinagra family suspected of four other homicides, for the murder of Angelo Pardo.
For twenty-four hours, Tumminello insisted he had never set foot in Angelo Pardo’s apartment. Indeed he swore he didn’t even know where he lived. The alleged murderer’s photograph appeared on television. Then Commendator Ernesto Laudadio, alias HM Victor Emmanuel III, showed up at the station to report that on that Monday evening he hadn’t been able to enter his garage because there’d been a car he’d never seen before parked right in front, whose license-plate number he’d taken down. He’d started honking his horn, and after a brief spell the owner had appeared— none other than, you guessed it, the man shown in the photo on television, there was no mistaking him—whereupon said man, without so much as saying good night, had got back in his car and left.