“I’ll explain. Let’s assume we conduct a careful investigation of all those who live on that road. We come to know every detail of their lives, down to the number of hairs on their asses, and in the end we learn that there was never any contact whatsoever between Susanna and any of them. Nothing at all. What do you do then? Start over from the top? Give up? Shoot yourself?” The kid didn’t let up.
“Well, what do
“Formulate and test other hypotheses at the same time, letting them all play out simultaneously, without giving preference to any single one, even if it appears to be the most likely to prove true.” “And have you formed any others?”
“Of course.”
“Could you tell me one?”
“If it’ll make you feel better . . . Okay, Susanna’s on that dirt road because someone told her to meet him or her in that very place, because there’s never anyone around . . .” “That’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible? That Susanna might have had such an appointment? Can you really be so certain? I’m not saying, mind you, that it was some sort of amorous rendezvous.
Maybe she was meeting someone for reasons we don’t know.
So she goes to this appointment unaware that she’s walking into a trap. When she arrives, she parks the motorbike, removes her helmet, but keeps it in her hand, knowing that the meeting is supposed to be brief. Then she approaches the car and is kidnapped. Does that work for you?” “No,” Francesco said firmly.
“And why not?”
“Because when we saw each other that afternoon, she would surely have told me about this prearranged meeting.
I’m sure of it, believe me.”
“I believe you. But maybe Susanna didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Did you accompany her on her way to her friend’s house that evening?”
“No.”
“Susanna had a cell phone, which we haven’t found, right?”
“Right.”
“She could have received a phone call after she left your place, as she was on her way to her friend’s house, and agreed to the meeting only then. And since you haven’t seen her since, she had no way of letting you know.” The boy thought about this for a moment. Then he made up his mind.
“I guess it’s possible.”
“So what are you trying to tell me with all these doubts of yours?”
Francesco didn’t answer. He buried his face in his hands.
Montalbano threw oil on the fire.
“But we may be entirely on the wrong track.” The kid jumped out of his chair.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m merely saying that it’s possible we’re starting from a mistaken assumption. That is, that Susanna went home by way of that dirt road.”
“But that’s where I found the motorbike!”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean Susanna took that road when leaving Vigata. I’ll give you an example, the first thing that comes into my head. Susanna leaves her friend’s home and takes the road she normally does. This road is used by many of the people who live in the houses before and after the villa, and it ends a couple of miles past the Mistretta house in a kind of rural suburb of Vigata—La Cucca, I think it’s called. It’s a road of commuters, peasants, and others who prefer to live in the country even though they work in Vigata.
They all know one another, and probably go back and forth on that road at the same times of day.”
“Yes, but what has that got to do with—”
“Let me finish. The kidnappers have been following Susanna for some time, to see what kind of traffic there is around the hour she comes home, and to figure out where would be the best place for them to make their move. That evening, they get lucky. They can carry out their plan at the intersection with the dirt road. In one way or another, they block Susanna’s path. There are at least three of them. Two of them get out of the car and force her to get in. The car drives off, probably taking the dirt road in the direction of Vigata. One of the two, however, stays behind, grabs the motorbike, and follows the car. Then he leaves the bike at some point along the dirt road. This would explain, among other things, why the motorbike was pointed in the direction of Vigata. Then he gets in the car with the others, and they drive off into the sunset.” Francesco looked doubtful.
“But why bother with the motorbike? What do they care? Their main concern is to get out of there as quickly as possible.”
“But I just told you that road’s full of commuters! They couldn’t just leave the motorbike on the ground. Someone might think there’d been an accident, another might recognize the motorbike as Susanna’s . . . In short, alarm bells were ringing and they didn’t have time to find a good place to hide it. And while they were at it, they might as well move it onto the dirt road, where nobody ever drove by. But we can form other hypotheses as well.” “We can?”
“As many as you like. After all, we’re conducting a lesson here. But first I must ask you a question. You told me you sometimes accompanied Susanna all the way home.”
“Yes.”
