To say he was astonished wouldn’t have been accurate. If anything, he felt a sort of small satisfaction for having been right on target; indeed, he’d been certain the girl would turn up sooner or later to explain the whole affair to him. One thing, however, did indeed astonish him no end: that Catarella, for the first time in his life, had neither mangled nor mistaken her name.
For a second, upon seeing her, he thought that the young woman standing before him was not the same one he’d met. And that the whole business was even murkier than he’d imagined. How many Vanna Digiulios were there, anyway?
This one was blonde, without glasses, and had beautiful blue eyes. More importantly, she didn’t have that beaten-dog look that had made him feel so sorry for her. On the contrary, to judge by the way she walked, she seemed like a decisive, self-assured person.
She smiled at Montalbano as she held out her hand. Montalbano, standing erect, returned the greeting.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.
“I knew you would be,” she said.
So they were even. The girl knew how to fence. Montalbano gestured towards the chair in front of his desk, and she sat down, setting the large purse she carried slung across her shoulder onto the floor.
She began speaking before the inspector had even asked her anything.
“My name is Roberta Rollo. We have the same rank, but for the past three years I’ve been in the direct employ of the U.N.”
So this must be a really big deal. And while she might be of equal rank to him, she certainly was far more important than a simple chief inspector of police. He wanted confirmation.
“Was it you who forced the commissioner to give the case back to me?”
“Not personally, no. But I pulled a few strings,” she said, smiling.
“Could I ask you a few questions?”
“I’m indebted to you. Go right ahead.”
“Was Shaikiri your informer on the
“Yes.”
“And were you the person Shaikiri met with at the carabinieri station?”
“Yes.”
“The lieutenant told me it had something to do with terrorism, but I didn’t believe it.”
“That’s not a question but an affirmation. But I’ll answer anyway. You were right not to believe it.”
“Because in fact it involved the illegal diamond trade.”
The woman opened her eyes wide, and they became two little sky-blue lakes.
“How did you find that out so quickly? I was told you were a good policeman, but I had no idea you-”
“You’re not too bad yourself, I must say. You got me to swallow whole your story about being the neglected niece of a rich yacht owner… Did you know that? You even managed to make me feel sorry for you. But then why, at the same time, did you indirectly provide me with a number of clues that would lead me to realize that you were a completely different person from the one you pretended to be?”
“I have no problem telling you the whole story. The morning we met, when you rescued me from an unexpected predicament, you introduced yourself as Inspector Montalbano, the very person I’d been told to contact, to enlist your cooperation on an operation that was to be launched shortly thereafter.”
“And what was that?”
“We’d learned that Emile Lannec…”
Montalbano shook his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“His name wasn’t Lannec, but Jean-Pierre David.”
The girl was astonished.
“So Lannec was David!”
“Did you know him?”
“I certainly did. But we didn’t know they were the same person. How did you figure that out?”
“I’ll tell you later. Go on.”
“At any rate, we’d learned that Lannec had left Paris to come here. And so-”
“What was Lannec’s role?”
“Wait. He seemed to us to be a sort of troubleshooter. He would turn up whenever there were problems.”
“And what was his role when he was David?”
“He was one of the leaders of the organization. A very important man. Then I got a message from Shaikiri saying that due to the bad weather, the
“And what are they?”
“The
“I’d figured as much. Then why did you disappear?”
“Because they suddenly found Lannec’s body in the dinghy. I realized there would be a lot of commotion, and that it wouldn’t work in my favor. And Lannec’s murder, which must certainly have taken place aboard the
“I’m sorry, but what interest did the
“They didn’t recognize him! They couldn’t! They made a grave mistake by bringing him back to shore! And, in fact, Shaikiri told me about a furious quarrel that had taken place between Giovannini and Sperli on the one hand, and Zigami and Petit on the other… Do you know who they are?”
“Yes. The supposed owner of the
“And they were arguing precisely because the
“Are all crew members on both ships implicated?”
“On the
And that was why La Giovannini made certain that Shaikiri wasn’t killed aboard her yacht.
“Why only Alvarez?”
“Alvarez is Angolan, not Spanish, as everyone thinks. Apparently it was he who originally got the late Mr. Giovannini interested in the diamond trade.”
“I see. And who was Shaikiri?”
“An agent of ours who’d succeeded in infiltrating their group. Their suspicions were likely aroused when he got himself arrested twice in barely twenty-four hours. Do you know how they killed him?”
“Yes. First they stuck his head into a bucket full of saltwater to make it look like he’d drowned at sea, and then-”
“No,” she interrupted. “It’s true they did it to make it look like he’d drowned, but the main reason was to torture him. But it looks like he broke down and talked.”
“I’m sorry, but could you explain to me exactly what the U.N. has to do with all this?”
“Have you ever heard of the Kimberley Process?”
“Yes, but I still haven’t had time to-”
“I’ll sum it up for you in a few words. It’s an international organization that was set up in 2002 to oversee the exportation and importation of diamonds. The governments of sixty-nine different countries have so far agreed to comply with it. But, as you probably can imagine, some three or four percent of all diamonds extracted are still done