“Because he didn’t kill her, Fazio. Because he only wanted to scare her. And not as a joke. He stopped, said something to the woman, and then left. And the woman did everything possible to downplay the matter.”
“Listen, Chief, if it’s the way you say it is, couldn’t the person in the car have been, I dunno, a jilted lover or suitor?”
“Maybe. And that’s what worries me. He might try again and seriously injure or kill her.”
“You want me to look into it?”
“Yes, but don’t waste too much time on it. The whole thing might turn out to be nothing.”
“Where did this lady ask to be dropped off?”
“At the corner of Via Serpotta and Via Guttuso.”
Fazio winced.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like Guttuso?”
“I don’t like that neighborhood, Chief. That’s where the rich people live.”
“Don’t you like rich people? What is this, anyway? You used to accuse me of being an angry Communist, and now you—”
“Communism’s got nothing to do with it, Chief. The fact is that rich people are always a pain in the ass. They’re hard to deal with; you say one word too many and they clam up.”
“Ah, Chief, the Signorina Zita’s onna line an’ wants a talk to yiz poissonally in poisson.”
“And who’s this Zita?”
“You kiddin’ me, Chief?”
“No, Cat, I’m not. I don’t feel like talking to her.”
“You sure, Chief?”
“I’m sure.”
“Want me to tell ’er yer not onna premisses?”
“Tell her whatever the hell you want.”
Shortly before the inspector decided it was time to go eat, Mimi Augello came in. He looked fairly well rested. But he was gloomy.
“How are you feeling, Mimi?”
“I’ve still got a bit of fever, but I feel well enough to be up. I wanted to know what you intend to do.”
“About what?”
“Salvo, don’t pretend you don’t understand. I’m referring to the body in the bag. Let’s make things perfectly clear; that way there won’t be any misunderstandings or mistakes. Are you going to handle the case, or am I?”
“Sorry, but I really don’t understand. Who’s the head of this department, you or me?”
“If you put it that way, then it’s clear we have nothing to say to each other. The case is yours by rights.”
“Mimi, may I ask what’s got into you? Lately haven’t I let you operate with total autonomy? Haven’t I given you more and more space? What is your gripe?”
“That’s true. You used to stick your nose into everything and break everyone’s balls, whereas now you’re a little less meddlesome. In fact you often let me do the investigating.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Yes, but investigate what? Basically chickenshit. Supermarket burglaries, holdups at the post office...”
“And what about the murder of Dr. Cali?”
“Come on! We practically caught Mrs. Cali with the gun still warm in her hand! Some investigation, that! The present case is different. The body in the bag is one of those challenges that can make you feel like working again.”
“So?”
“I don’t want you to give me the case only to take it away from me later on. I want an explicit agreement, okay?”
“Mimi, I don’t like the way you’re talking to me.”
“Goodbye, Salvo,” said Augello, turning his back and leaving the room.
What on earth was wrong with Mimi? He’d been in a foul mood for over a month now. Nervous, often silent, always ready to take offense over the slightest remark. At certain moments you could tell he wasn’t all there, his mind far away. Clearly something was eating away at him. Was this what married life with Beba had come to? And yet in the early going he had seemed so happy, especially over the birth of his son. Surely Livia could tell him something about this. She and Beba had become very good friends and often talked over the phone.
He left the station and drove off towards Enzo’s trattoria. On the way, however, he realized that his talk with Mimi had killed his appetite. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d had an argument, and on a few occasions things had even turned ugly. This time, however, he’d noticed a different tone in Mimi’s words. The real purpose of their discussion was not to determine who would handle the investigation. No, the real purpose was something else: Mimi had simply wanted to have it out with him. Just as he’d done with Ajena the day before. He was looking to let off steam. Looking for a pretext to spew out all the black bile he had building up inside him.
