“How’s Tortorella doing?”
Fazio looked over at the desk of his absent colleague.
“I went to see him yesterday. They’ve apparently decided to release him from the hospital on Monday.”
“Do you know how to get inside the old factory?”
“When they built the enclosure wall after shutting it down, they put in a tiny little door, so small you have to bend down to pass through it, an iron door.”
“Who’s got the key?”
“I don’t know. I can find out.”
“Don’t just find out. I want it before noon.”
He went back into his office and phoned Jacomuzzi, who let him wait a bit before deciding to answer.
“What’s wrong, you got dysentery?”
“Cut it, Montalbano. What do you want?”
“What have you found on the necklace?”
“What do you think? Nothing. Actually, fingerprints, but there are so many of them and they’re such a mess they’re indecipherable. What should I do?”
“Send it back to me before the end of the day.
Understood? Before the end of the day.”
He heard Fazio’s irritated voice shout from the next room:
“Jesus Christ! Is it possible nobody knows who this Sicilchim belonged to? It must have some sort of bankruptcy trustee, some official custodian!” And, as soon as he saw Montalbano enter, “It’d probably be easier to get the keys to St. Peter’s.”
The inspector told him he was going out and wouldn’t be gone more than two hours. When he returned, he wanted to find that key on his desk.
~
As soon as she saw him in the doorway, Montaperto’s wife turned pale and put her hand over her heart.
“Oh my God! What is it? What happened?”
“Nothing that you should worry about. Actually, I have good news for you, believe it or not. Is your husband home?”
“Yes, he got off early today.”
The young woman sat him in the kitchen and went to call Saro, who had lain down in the bedroom at the baby’s side, hoping to get him to close his eyes for just a little while.
“Sit down,” the inspector said to Saro when he appeared, “and listen to me carefully. Where were you thinking of taking your son with the money you would have got from pawning the necklace?”
“To Belgium,” Saro promptly replied. “My brother lives there, and he said we could stay at his house for a while.”
“Have you got the money for the journey?”
“Scrimping and saving here and there, we’ve managed to put a little aside,” said the woman, without repressing a hint of pride in her voice.
“But it’s only enough for the trip.”
“Excellent. Now I want you to go to the station, today, and buy the tickets. Actually, no, take the bus and go to Raccadali—is there a travel agency there?”
“Yes. But why go all the way to Raccadali?”
“I don’t want anyone here in Vigata to know what you’re planning to do. While you’re doing that, your wife should be packing for the journey. You mustn’t tell anyone where you’re going, not even family. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear, as far as that goes. But excuse me, Inspector, is there anything wrong in going to Belgium to have your son treated? You’re telling me to do all these things on the sly, as if we were doing something illegal.”
“You’re not doing anything illegal, Saro, no need to worry about that. But there are a lot of things I want to be absolutely sure about, so you’ll have to trust me and do exactly as I say.”
“All right, but maybe you forgot. What are we going to Belgium for if the money we’ve got is barely enough to get us there and back? To go sightseeing?”
“You’ll get the money you need. Tomorrow morning one of my men will bring you a check for ten million lire.”
“Ten million? What for?” asked Saro, breathless.
“You’ve earned it. It’s the percentage you’re entitled to for turning in the necklace you found. You can spend the money openly, without worry. As soon as you get the check, cash it immediately and then leave.”
“Who’s the check from?”
“From Counselor Rizzo.”
“Ah,” said Saro, turning pale.
“You mustn’t be afraid. It’s all legitimate, and in my hands. Still, it’s best to be as careful as possible. I wouldn’t
