She looked at him, eyes popping.
“How…how do you… “
Now she was indeed agitated. The inspector felt pleased for having hit the mark.
“The last time I asked you if you’d met with anyone during the time you were wandering about in your car, and you said no. But before speaking, you sort of hesitated. That was the first and only time you hesitated. And I realized you didn’t want to tell me the truth. But be careful: Not having an alibi might get you arrested.”
She suddenly turned pale.One must strike while the iron is hot,Montalbano told himself, hating himself for the cliche and for playing the tormentor.
“You’re going to have to be escorted down to the station …”
It wasn’t true. That wasn’t the procedure, but those were the magic words. And indeed Elena began to tremble slightly, a veil of sweat appearing on her brow.
“I haven’t told Emilio… I didn’t want him to know.”
What did her husband have to do with this? Was the schoolteacher fated to pop up everywhere like Pierino’s famous puppet in the story his mother used to tell Montalbano as a child?
“What didn’t you want him to know?”
“That I was with a man that evening.”
“Who was it?”
“A filling-station attendant… It’s the only station on the road to Giardina. His name is Luigi. I don’t know his last name. I stopped to get gas. He was closing, but he reopened for me. He started flirting, and I didn’t say no. I wanted … I wanted to forget Angelo, forever.”
“How long were you together?”
“A couple of hours.”
“Could he testify to that?”
“I don’t think it would be a problem. He’s very young, about twenty, unmarried.”
“Tell that to the lawyer. Maybe he can find a way to keep your husband from getting wind of it.”
“I would be very unhappy if he found out. I betrayed his trust.”
But how did this husband and wife reason? He felt at sea. Then Elena suddenly started laughing hard again, her head thrown backward.
“Let me in on the joke.”
“A woman supposedly stuck her panties in Angelo’s mouth so he couldn’t scream?” “So it seems.”
“I’m only telling you because it couldn’t have been me.” She had another laughing fit that almost brought tears to her eyes.
“Come on, out with it.”
“Because whenever I knew I was going to see Angelo, I wouldn’t wear panties. Anyway, look. Do these look like they could be used to gag anyone?”
She stood up and hiked up her bathrobe, spun around in a circle, then sat back down. She’d performed the movement perfectly naturally, without modesty or immodesty. Her panties were smaller than a G-string. With that in his mouth, a man could still have recited all of Cicero’sCatilinarian Orationsor sung “Celeste Aida.”
“I have to go,” said the inspector, standing up.
He absolutely had to get away from that woman. Alarm bells and warning lights were going off wildly in his head. Elena also stood up and approached him. Unable to keep her away with his extended arms, he stopped her with words.
“One last thing.”
“What?”
“We’ve learned that Angelo had recently been gambling and losing a lot of money.” “Really?!”
She seemed truly puzzled.
“So you know nothing about it.”
“I never even suspected it. Did he gamble here, in Vigata?”
“No. In Fanara, apparently. At a clandestine gambling den. Did you ever go with him to Fanara?”
“Yes, once. But we came back to Vigata the same evening.”
“Can you remember if Angelo went into any banks that day in Fanara?”
“Out of the question. He had me wait in the car outside of three doctors’ offices and two pharmacies. And I nearly died of boredom. Oh, but I do remember—because I heard about him on TV after he died—that we also stopped outside the villa of Di Cristoforo, the Parliament deputy.”
“Did he know him?!”
“Apparently.”
“How long did he stay inside the villa?”
“Just a few minutes.”
