The Track of Sand

He picked up the horseshoe again and started examining it. It was a perfectly normal horseshoe, like dozens of others he had seen.

What was so important about it that it should already have cost a man his life?

He raised his eyes to look out at the sea and was momentarily blinded by a flash of light. No, there wasn’t anyone on a boat watching him through a pair of binoculars. The flash had gone off in his head.

He bolted upright, ran to the phone, and dialed Ingrid’s number.

“Hillu? Who colling?”

“Is Signora Rachele there?”

“You wait.”

“Hello, who is this?”

“Montalbano here.”

“Salvo! What a lovely surprise! I was just about to call you, you know. Ingrid and I thought of inviting you out to dinner tonight.”

“All right, but—”

“Where would you like to go?”

“Come over to my place, you can be my guests. I’ll ask Adelina to . . . But . . .”

“What are all these ‘buts’?”

“Tell me something.Your horse . . .”

“Yes?” said Rachele, expectant.

“Did your horse’s shoes have anything unusual about them?”

“In what sense?”

“I don’t know, I’m not very familiar with this sort of thing, as you know . . . Was there anything engraved in them, some sort of sign or symbol . . . ?”

“Yes.Why do you want to know?”

“A silly idea of mine.What kind of symbol?”

“Right at the center of the arch, on top, there is a small W, engraved in the metal. There’s a blacksmith in Rome who makes them specially for me. His name is—”

“And does Lo Duca use the same smith for his—”

“Of course not!”

“Too bad,” he said, appearing disappointed.

He hung up. He didn’t want Rachele to start asking questions.The last piece of the puzzle that had first started to come together in his head on the evening in Fiacca had fallen into place and given a meaning to the whole scheme.

He started singing. Who was there to stop him? He broke into “Che gelida manina” in a loud voice.[15]

“Signore! Signore! Wha’ss got inna you this morning?” asked the housekeeper, who had come running from the kitchen.

“Nothing, Adelì. Ah, listen. Make some good things for tonight. I’ve got two guests coming to dinner.”

The phone rang. It was Rachele.

“We got cut off,” the inspector said at once.

“Listen, what time do you want us to come?”

“Would nine o’clock be all right with you?”

“Nine is perfect. See you then.”

He hung up and the telephone rang again.

“It’s Fazio.”

“No, no, I’ve changed my mind. I’m on my way there. Wait for me.”

* * *

He sang all the way to the station. By this point he couldn’t get those notes and words out of his head. And when he reached the part where he couldn’t remember them, he started over again from the top.

“Se la lasci riscaldare ...”

He pulled up, got out, passed by Catarella, who, hearing him sing, sat there spellbound and open- mouthed.

“Cercar che giova . . . Cat, tell Fazio to come to my office straightaway. Se al buio non si trovaaa . . .”

He went into his room, sat down, leaned back in his chair.

“Ma per fortunaaa . . .”

“What’s happened, Chief ?”

“Close the door, Fazio, and have a seat.”

He took the horseshoe out of his pocket and set it down on the desk.

“Take a good look at it.”

“Can I pick it up?”

“Sure.”

As Fazio was studying the horseshoe, the inspector kept singing under his breath.

“È una notte di luuuna . . .”

Fazio gave him a questioning look.

“It’s a perfectly ordinary horseshoe,” he said.

“Exactly. And that’s why they did everything within their power to get it back: They broke into my home, they tried to burn the place down, Gurreri lost his life . . .”

Fazio’s eyes widened.

“All for this horseshoe . . . ?”

“Yessirree.”

“And you had it all the while.”

“Yessirree. And I’d completely forgotten about it.”

“But it’s an ordinary horseshoe with no distinguishing characteristics!”

“And that is exactly what distinguishes it: the fact that it has no distinguishing characteristics.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means that the horse that was slaughtered did not belong to Rachele Esterman.”

And he resumed in a low voice:

“Vivo in povertà mia lieta . . .”

18

Mimì Augello arrived late, and so the inspector had to repeat everything he had already told Fazio.

“All things considered, the horseshoe brought you good luck” was Augello’s only comment. “It made you realize how things really stood.”

Afterwards, Montalbano explained to both the idea he had in mind: to set up a complicated trap, an ambush, which would have to function like clockwork.And if all went well, they would haul in a net full of fish.

“Are you two in agreement?”

“Absolutely,” said Mimì.

Fazio, for his part, seemed slightly doubtful.

“Chief, it’s going to have to take place here, at the station, there’s no question about that. The problem is that here, at the station, there’s also Catarella.”

“So what?”

“Chief, Catarella’s liable to blow the whole thing for us. He’s liable to bring Prestia into my office and Lo Duca into yours.You realize that, with him around—”