The Shape of Water

16

“Hello, Montalbano? It’s Mimi Augello. Sorry to disturb you, but I called to reassure you. I’ve come back to home base. When are you leaving?”

“The flight from Palermo’s at three, so I have to leave Vigata around twelve-thirty, right after lunch.”

“Then we won’t be seeing each other, since I think I have to stay a little late at the office. Any news?”

“Fazio will fill you in.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Up to and including Thursday.”

“Have fun and get some rest. Fazio has your number in Genoa, doesn’t he? If anything big comes up, I’ll give you a ring.”

His assistant inspector, Mimi Augello, had returned punctually from his holidays, and thus Montalbano could now leave without problems. Augello was a capable person. Montalbano phoned Livia to tell her his time of arrival, and Livia, pleased by the news, said she would meet him at the airport.

When he got to the office, Fazio informed him that the workers from the salt factory, who had all been “made mobile”—a pious euphemism for being fired—had occupied the train station. Their wives, by lying down on the tracks, were preventing all trains from passing. The carabinieri were already on the scene. Should they go down there, too?

“To do what?”

“I don’t know, to give them a hand.”

“Give whom a hand?”

“What do you mean, chief ? The carabinieri, the forces of order, which would be us, until proved to the contrary.”

“If you’re really dying to help somebody, help the ones occupying the station.”

“Chief, I’ve always suspected it: you’re a communist.”

~

“Inspector? This is Stefano Luparello. Please excuse me. Has my cousin Giorgio been to see you?”

“No, I don’t have any news.”

“We’re very worried here at home. As soon as he recovered from his sedative, he went out and vanished again. Mama would like some advice: shouldn’t we ask the police to conduct a search?”

“No. Please tell your mother I don’t think that’s necessary. Giorgio will turn up. Tell her not to worry.”

“In any case, if you hear any news, please let us know.”

“That will be very difficult, because I’m going away on holiday. I’ll be back Friday.”

~

The first three days spent with Livia at her house in Boccadasse made him forget Sicily almost entirely, thanks to a few nights of leaden, restorative sleep, with Livia in his arms. Almost entirely, though, because two or three times, by surprise, the smell, the speech, the things of his island picked him up and carried him weightless through the air, for a few seconds, back to Vigata. And each time he was sure that Livia had noticed his momentary absence, his wavering, and she had looked at him without saying anything.

~

Thursday evening he got an entirely unexpected phone call from Fazio.

“Nothing important, chief. I just wanted to hear your voice and confirm that you’ll be back tomorrow.”

Montalbano was well aware that relations between the sergeant and Augello were not the easiest.

“Do you need comforting? Has that mean Augello been spanking your little behind?”

“He criticizes everything I do.”

“Be patient, I’ll be back tomorrow. Any news?”

“Yesterday they arrested the mayor and three town councillors. For graft and accepting bribes.”

“They finally succeeded.”

“Yeah, but don’t get your hopes too high, chief.

They’re trying to copy the Milanese judges here, but Milan is very far away.”

“Anything else?”

“We found Gambardella, remember him? The guy who was shot at when he was trying to fill his tank?

He wasn’t laid out in the countryside, but goat-tied in the trunk of his own car, which was later set on fire and completely burnt up.”

“If it was completely burnt up, how did you know Gambardella was goat-tied?”

“They used metal wire, chief.”

“See you tomorrow, Fazio.”