“Unless Gallo can find a way to come and get me…”
“Wait a sic an’ I’ll put ’im on, ’e’s right here.”
“What is it, Chief?”
“Well, I was on my way to the station when I ran into a traffic jam about fifty yards down the road from my house. The storm tides washed away the road. My car is stuck there and can’t move. And so I’m stranded here at home. If you could manage to find a-”
Gallo didn’t let him finish his sentence.
“I’ll be there in half an hour, max,” he said.
The inspector returned to the kitchen, sat back down, and fired up a cigarette.
“Do you smoke?” he asked the young woman.
“Yes, but my cigarettes are all wet.”
“Take one of mine.”
She accepted and held out her cigarette for him to light.
“I feel mortified for causing you so much trouble-”
“Not at all! In half an hour somebody’s going to come by to pick me up. Were you on your way to Vigata?”
“Yes. I had an appointment at ten, at the port. My aunt is supposed to be arriving. I came all the way from Palermo. But in this weather, I doubt that… I bet she doesn’t come in until this afternoon.”
“There aren’t any mail boats or ferries that come into the port at ten in the morning, you know.”
“I know. My aunt has her own boat.”
The word “boat” got on his nerves. Nowadays when someone says “come and see my boat,” you find yourself looking at a one-hundred-twenty-foot vessel.
“Rowboat?” he asked, innocent as a lamb.
She didn’t get the joke.
“It’s a big boat with a captain and a four-man crew. And she’s always sailing. Alone. I haven’t seen her for years.”
“Where’s she going?”
“Nowhere.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My aunt likes sailing the high seas. She can afford it. Apparently she’s very rich. When Zio Arturo died, he left her a large inheritance and a Tunisian manservant named Zizi.”
“So she bought the boat with her inheritance?”
“No, Zio Arturo already had the boat. He also liked to spend a lot of time at sea. He didn’t work, but he had a ton of money. Nobody knew where it came from. Apparently he had some sort of partnership with a banker named Ricca.”
“And what do you do, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Me?”
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if she needed to choose from the many different things she did.
“I’m a student.”
In the half hour that followed, Montalbano learned that the girl, who was an orphan and lived in Palermo, was studying architecture, didn’t have a boyfriend, and, well aware that she was no beauty, loved to read and listen to music. He also learned that she didn’t use perfume, lived with a cat named Eleuterio in an apartment that she owned, and preferred going to the movies to sitting in front of the television. Then she stopped all at once, looked at the inspector, and said:
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For listening to me. It’s not every day that a man will sit and listen to me for so long.”
Montalbano felt a little sorry for her.
Then Gallo arrived.
“The road’s still out,” he said, “but the firemen and road crews are at the site. It’s gonna take hours.”
Vanna stood up.
“I’m going to go change.”
When they went outside, the downpour had actually intensified. Gallo took the Montereale road and at the crossroads turned towards Montelusa. A good half hour later, they arrived in Vigata.
“Let’s take the young lady to the Harbor Office,” the inspector said.
When Gallo pulled up, Montalbano said to Vanna:
“Go and see if they have any news. We’ll wait for you here.”
Vanna returned about ten minutes later.
“They said my aunt’s boat sent word that they’re proceeding slowly but are all right, and they expect to pull into port around four o’clock this afternoon.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“What am I supposed to do? I’ll wait.”
“Where?”
“Oh, I dunno, I’m unfamiliar with this town. I guess I’ll go and sit in a cafe.”
“Why don’t you come with us to the police station? You’ll be a lot more comfortable than in a cafe.”
There was a small waiting room at the station. Montalbano sat her down there, and since he had bought a novel just the day before titled
“Fantastic!” said Vanna. I’ve been wanting to buy this. I’ve heard a lot of good things about it.”
“If you need anything, ask Catarella, the switchboard operator.”
“Thanks. You’re a real-”
“What’s the name of your aunt’s boat?”
“Same as mine. The
Before leaving the room, he eyed the girl. She looked like a wet dog. The clothes she had put back on hadn’t completely dried and were all wrinkled. Her bun of black hair had come apart and covered half her face. And she had a strange way of sitting that the inspector had noticed in certain refugees, who always look ready to leave the chair in which they are sitting, or to stay seated in that chair for eternity.
He stopped at Catarella’s post.
“Call up the Harbor Office and tell them that if the
Catarella looked flummoxed.
“What’s wrong?” the inspector asked.
“How’s Havana gonna contact the Harbor Office?”
Montalbano’s heart sank.
“Never mind. I’ll handle it myself.”
2
His office was unusable. Water was pouring down from the ceiling as if there were ten broken pipes overhead. Since Mimi Augello wouldn’t be coming in that morning, the inspector took over his deputy’s room.
Around one o’clock, as he was getting up to go out for lunch, the phone rang.
