The Patience of the Spider (7 page)

Oh, no, not a squabble! He had to dodge it at all costs.
Maybe by feigning a tragic tone ...And it wouldnt be entirely
staged, since there was an element of truth to it: He did,
in fact, feel very tired.

No, Livia, no . . . he said.

Resting his elbows on the table, he covered his face with
his hands. Livia became alarmed and immediately changed
tone.

But be reasonable, Salvo. Whenever anybody talks to
you, you just

I know, I know. Please forgive me, thats just the way I
am, and I dont even realize it when . . .

He spoke in a strangled voice, hands pressing hard on his
eyes. Then he got up all at once and ran into the bathroom,
closing the door behind him. After washing his face, he
reemerged.

Livia was standing outside the door, repentant. Hed put
on a good performance. The audience was moved. They embraced
with abandon, asking each others pardon.

Im sorry, its just that today was a bad

Im sorry, too, Salvo.

They spent two hours chatting on the little veranda.
Then they went back inside and the inspector turned on the
television, tuning it to TeleVig. The kidnapping of Susanna
Mistretta was naturally the lead story. As the anchorman
spoke of the girl, a photograph of her appeared on the
screen. At that point Montalbano realized that hed never felt

curious enough to find out what she looked like. She was a
beautiful girl, blonde and blue-eyed. Little wonder that people
complimented her on the street, as Francesco had mentioned.
Her expression, however, was one of self-assurance
and determination, which made her look slightly older than
her years. Then some images of the villa appeared. The newsman
hadnt the slightest doubt that Susanna had been kidnapped,
despite the fact that no ransom demands had yet
been made on the family. By way of conclusion, he informed
viewers that the station would now show an exclusive interview
with the kidnap victims father. Mr. Mistretta appeared
on the screen.

The moment the man began to speak, Montalbano was
flabbergasted. In front of a television camera, some people lose
their train of thought, stutter, go cross-eyed, sweat, say stupid
thingshe himself belonged to this unhappy category
whereas others remain perfectly normal, speaking and moving
the way they usually do. Then there is a third category, the
chosen few who become more lucid and clear when a camera
is watching. Mistretta belonged to the latter group. He said
that whoever had kidnapped his daughter, Susanna, had made a
mistake. Whatever sum they might ask for her liberation, the
family was in no position to raise any money. The kidnappers
should better inform themselves, he said. The only solution
was to set Susanna free, immediately. If, however, there was
something else the kidnappers wantedthough he, Mistretta,
could not imagine what this might bethey should make
their demands at once. He would do the impossible to satisfy
them.

That was all. His voice was firm, his eyes dry. Troubled,

yes, but not afraid. With this declaration, the geologist won

the esteem and respect of all who had heard him.

Hes a real man, this Mistretta, said Livia.

The anchorman reappeared, saying he would report the rest
of the news after the stations commentary on what was clearly
the biggest story of the day. The purse-lipped face of Tele-
Vigs main editorialist, Pippo Ragonese, appeared on the
screen. He started by saying that it was well-known that retired
geologist Salvatore Mistretta was of modest means, even though
his wife, now gravely ill, had once been wealthy before losing
everything in a reversal of fortune. Therefore, as the girls poor
father had said in his appeal, if the purpose of this kidnapping
was moneyand he, Ragonese, certainly didnt want to conjecture
as to what other terrible motive might be behind it
then it had been a tragic mistake. Now who was most likely not
to know that Mistretta and his family had been living in dignified
poverty? Only foreigners, third worlders, clearly ill-
informed. For there was no denying that ever since all these
illegal immigrants had been landing on these shores in what was
a veritable invasion, crime rates had soared, surpassing previous
high-water marks. What were local governments waiting for to
strictly apply an already existing law? Personally, however, he
did take comfort in one aspect of this kidnapping case. The investigation
had been entrusted to the able Inspector Filippo
Minutolo of Montelusa Police and not to so-called Inspector
Salvo Montalbano, known more for his questionable brainstorms
and his unorthodox and at times downright subversive
opinions, than for his ability to solve the cases assigned to him.
And on that note, Ragonese wished them all a good night.

What a bastard! said Livia, turning off the TV.

Montalbano chose not to open his mouth. By now the
things Ragonese said about him had no effect on him. The
telephone rang. It was Gallo.

I just finished, Chief. There was only one house that
didnt have anyone in it, but it seemed like it hadnt been lived
in for a while. And everyone gave the same answer: Nobody
knows Susanna and they didnt see any girl pass by on a motorbike
last night. But one lady did say that the fact she didnt
see anything didnt necessarily mean that a girl on a motorbike
didnt pass by.

Why are you telling me this?

Because those houses have all got their gardens and
kitchens in back, not on the roadside.

He hung up. The mild disappointment made him feel
tremendously weary.

What do you say, shall we go to bed?

All right, said Livia, but why havent you told me anything
about this kidnapping?

Because you didnt give me the chance, he was about to say,
but held himself back in time. Those words would surely have
triggered a furious spat. He merely gave a vague shrug.

Is it true you were left off the case, as that cornuto just said
on TV?

Congratulations, Livia.

Why?

I can see youre becoming a true Vigatese. You called
Ragonese a cornuto. Calling people cornuti is typical of aborigines.

I obviously caught it from you. But tell me, is it true you
were

Not exactly. Im supposed to work together with Minutolo.
But the investigation was his from the start. And I was on
leave.

Tell me about the kidnapping while I tidy up.
The inspector told her everything there was to tell. When
hed finished, Livia looked troubled.
If they ask for a ransom, will all your other conjectures
prove false?

She, too, was thinking that they might have kidnapped
Susanna in order to rape her. Montalbano wanted to tell her
that a ransom demand didnt preclude rape, but he decided it
was better if she went to bed without this worry on her
mind.

Of course. You want the bathroom first?

Okay.

Montalbano opened the French door giving onto the veranda,
sat down, and lit a cigarette. The night was as placid as a
babys sleep. He managed to stop thinking about Susanna and
the horror that this same night must have represented to her.

After a short spell, he heard a noise inside the house. He
got up, went in, and froze. Livia was standing in the middle of
the room, naked. At her feet was a small puddle of water. Apparently
something had occurred to her halfway through the
shower and shed stepped out. She looked beautiful, but Montalbano
didnt dare make a move. Livias eyes, reduced to mere
slits, heralded an impending storm.

You ...you ... said Livia, her arm extended, pointing
an accusing finger.

Me what?

When did you learn about the kidnapping?

This morning.
When you went to the office?
No, before that.
How long before?
What, dont you remember?
I want to hear you say it.
When I got that call and you woke up and went in the

kitchen to make coffee. Catarella told me first, but I didnt understand
a word of it, then Fazio explained that a girl had disappeared.

And what did you do next?
I took a shower and got dressed.
Oh, no, you didnt, you disgusting hypocrite! You laid

me out on the kitchen table! Monster! How could you even
think of making love to me when that poor girl
Livia, stop and think for a minute. When I got that call, I
had no idea how serious

See? That newsman is right, whats his name, the one
who said youre incompetent and dont understand a thing!
Actually, no, youre worse! Youre a brute! A filthy pig!

She ran out, and the inspector heard the key turn in the
bedroom door. He approached and knocked.
Come on, Livia. Dont you think youre overdoing it a

little?
No. You can sleep on the sofa tonight.
But its so uncomfortable! Come on, Livia! I wont sleep

a wink!
No reaction. He decided to play the pity card.
And Im sure my wound will start throbbing again! he

said in a pathetic voice.

Too bad.

He knew he would never succeed in making her change
her mind. He had to resign himself. He cursed under his breath.
As if in response, the telephone rang. It was Fazio.

Didnt I tell you to go home and rest?

I couldnt bring myself to leave it all hanging, Chief.

What do you want?

They just phoned. Inspector Minutolo wanted to know
if you could drop by.

He arrived in a flash in front of the locked gate. On the way
there, it occurred to him he hadnt told Livia he was going
out. Despite their quarrel, he should have. Even if only to
avoid another spat. Livia was liable to think hed gone to
spend the night at a hotel out of spite. Too bad.

But now, how was he going to get somebody to open the
gate for him? By the light of the headlamps, he could see
there was no bell, no intercom, nothing. The only solution
was the car horn. He hoped he didnt have to keep honking
until he woke up the whole town. He started with a timid,
quick toot, and immediately a man came out of the house.
Fiddling with the keys, the man opened the gate and Montalbano
drove through, pulled up, and got of the car. The man
whod come out introduced himself.

Im Carlo Mistretta.

The doctor-brother was a well-dressed man of about
fifty-five, rather short, with fine eyeglasses, a ruddy face, little
facial hair, and a hint of a potbelly. He looked like a bishop in
civvies. He continued:

When your colleague informed me that the kidnappers
had called, I came running, because Salvatore felt ill.

How is he now?

I gave him something I hope will let him sleep.

How about his wife?

The doctor threw his hands up by way of reply.

Has she still not been informed of the

No, the doctor said, thats the last thing she needs. Salvatore
told her Susannas in Palermo for exams. But my poor
sister-in-law is not exactly lucid; she often goes blank for whole
hours at a time.

In the living room there was only Fazio, whod fallen
asleep in the usual armchair, and Fifinutolo, sitting in the
other armchair, smoking a cigar. The French doors were wide
open, letting in cool, penetrating air.

Were you able to find out where the phone call was
made from? was the first thing Montalbano asked.

No. It was too brief, replied Minutolo. Now listen up;
we can discuss things later.

Okay.

As soon as he sensed Montalbanos presence, Fazio, with a
kind of animal reflex, opened his eyes and leapt to his feet.

So youre here, Chief? You want to listen? Sit down here
in my place.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned on the tape
recorder.

Hello? Who is this? This is the Mistretta residence. Who is

this?

...

Who is this?
Listen to me and dont interrupt.The girl is here with us, and
shes doing all right for now. Recognize her voice?
...
Papa...Papa... please... help...
...
Did you hear? Get a lot of money ready. Ill call again day
after tomorrow.
...
Hello? Hello? Hello?
...

Play it over again, said the inspector.

The last thing he wanted to do was to listen again to the
fathomless despair in that girls voice, but he had to do it. As a
precaution, he covered his eyes with one hand, in case his
emotions got the better of him.

After the second listening, Dr. Mistretta, face buried in his
hands, shoulders heaving with sobs, rushed out, almost running
into the garden.

Hes very fond of his niece, Minutolo commented.

Then, looking at Montalbano: So?
That was a recorded message. Do you agree?
Absolutely.
The mans voice is disguised.
Clearly.
And there are at least two of them. Susannas voice is

in the background, a bit far from the recorder. When the
man making the recording says, Recognize her voice? a few
seconds pass before Susanna speaks, the time it takes for his

accomplice to lower her gag. Then he gags her again almost
immediately, cutting her off in the middle of her plea, which
was surely supposed to be Help me. What do you think?

I think there may only be one of them. First he says, Recognize
her voice? then he goes over and removes the gag.

Thats not possible, because in that case the pause between
the kidnappers question and Susannas voice would
have been longer.

Okay. You know something?

No. Youre the expert.

Theyre not following the usual procedure.

Explain.

Well, what is the usual procedure for a kidnapping?
There are the manual laborerslets call them Group B
who are given the task of physically carrying out the kidnapping.
After which Group B hands the kidnapped person over
to Group C, that is, those in charge of hiding her and taking
care of hermore grunt work. At this point Group A comes
on the scene. These are the ringleaders, the organizers who
will demand the ransom. All these transitions take time, and
therefore the ransom request is usually not made until a few
days after the kidnapping. Whereas, in our case, it took only a
few hours.