She gave a little smile that Montalbano didn’t immediately understand.
“Inspector, at this point the story becomes like a comic book, or some feel-good soap opera. Do you really want to hear it?”
“Yes.
“I’d come back to Sicily about six months earlier. On the day of my twentieth birthday, I went into a supermarket with the intention of stealing something just to celebrate. But the moment I looked around, my eyes met Emilio’s. He hadn’t seen me since my days at the juvenile home, but he recognized me at once. And, strangely enough, I recognized him. What can I say? He’s been with me ever since. He saw me through detox, had me taken care of. He’s looked after me for five years with a devotion I can’t put into words. Four years ago he asked me to marry him. And that’s the story.”
Montalbano got up and put the letters back in his pocket.
“I have to go.”
“Can’t you stay a little longer?”
“Unfortunately I have an appointment in Montelusa.” Elena stood up, drew near to him, lowered her head slightly, and for a moment rested her lips on his. “Thanks,” she said.
He’d scarcely entered the station when a sudden scream from Catarella paralyzed him.
“Chief! I screeeewed ‘em!”
“Who’d you screw, Cat?”
“The last word, Chief!”
Standing up in his little closet, Catarella looked like a dancing bear, hopping for joy on one foot, then the other. “I got the last word! I writ it and it disappeared!” “Come into my office.”
“Right like straightaway, Chief! But first I gotta print the files.”
Better get away from there. The people walking in and out of the station were looking at them a bit aghast.
Before entering his office, he stuck his head in Augello’s. And Mimi, oddly, was there. Apparently the kid was feeling okay.
“What did Liguori want this morning?”
“To sensitize us.”
“Which means?”
“We’ve got to aim higher.”
“Meaning?”
“We’ve got to go in deep.” Montalbano suddenly lost patience.
“Mimi, if you don’t start speaking clearly, you know where I’m going to go in deep on you?”
“Salvo, it seems the upper spheres of Montelusa are not pleased with our efforts in the fight against drug dealers.”
“What are they talking about? In the last month we’ve put six dealers behind bars!”
“It’s not enough, according to them. Liguori says what we do is just small potatoes.”
“So what’s big potatoes?”
“Not limiting oneself to arresting a few dealers by chance, but rather acting according to a precise plan, provided by him, of course, which will supposedly lead us to the suppliers.”
“But isn’t that his responsibility? Isn’t he chief of Narcotics? Why’s he coming here breaking our balls? Let him make his plan and, instead of giving it to us, let his own men carry it out.”
“Salvo, apparently, according to his investigations, one of the biggest suppliers is here, in Vigata. So he wants our help.”
Montalbano stood there staring at him, lost in thought.
“Mimi, this whole business stinks to me. We need to talk about it, but I don’t have the time right now. I have to take care of something with Catarella and then run off to Montelusa to meet with the commissioner.”
Catarella was waiting for him in the doorway to his office, still dancing like a bear. He came in behind him and set two printed pages down on the desk. The inspector glanced at them and understood nothing. There was a string of six-figure numbers piled one on top of the other, and each of these numbers corresponded to another number. For example: 213452 136000
431235 235000
and so on. He realized that to understand the matter he had to dispatch Catarella, whose little tribal dance was getting on his nerves.
“Well done! My compliments, Catarella!”
Now he changed from a bear into a peacock. But since he had no tail to spread, he raised and extended his arms, fanned out his fingers, and spun around.
“How did you find the password?”
“Ah, Chief, Chief! That dead man is so clever he drove me crazy! The word was the name of the sister, the dead man’s, who’s called Michela, combined in combination wit’ the day, month, an’ year of birth when she’s born —his sister, I mean, the dead man’s—but written wittout numbers, only litters.”
