It's a good thing the TVs here, he thought. That way, at least, I can watch and make some sense of the bullshit I've been telling them.
And just to make things even harder, there were the adoring eyes of Corporal Anna Ferrara, staring at him from the crowd.
Nicolto, newsman from the Free Channel and a true friend, tried to rescue him from the quicksand in which he was drowning.
'Inspector, with your permission,' said Zito. 'You said you met Tano on your way back from Fiacca, where you'd been invited to eat a tabisca with friends. Is that correct?'
'Yes. What is a tabisca?'
'They'd eaten tabisca many times together.'
Zito was simply tossing him a life preserver. Montalbano seized it. Suddenly confident and precise, the inspector went into a detailed description of that extraordinary, multiflavored pizza.
7
In the alternately desperate, stammering, hesitant, bewildered, flabbergasted, lost but always wild-eyed man framed pitilessly in the foreground by the Free Channels videocamera, Montalbano scarcely recognized himself under the storm of questions from vile snake-in-the-grass journalists. And the part where hed explained how tabisca was made the part in which he came off best had been cut out. Maybe it wasn't strictly in keeping with the principal subject, the capture of Tano the Greek.
The eggplant Parmesan his housekeeper had left for him in the oven suddenly tasted flavorless. But that was impossible, it couldn't be right. It must have been some sort of psychological effect from seeing himself look like such a stupid shit on television.
All at once he felt like crying, like throwing himself down on his bed and wrapping himself up in the sheet like a mummy.
...
'Inspector Montalbano? This is Luciano Acquasanta from the newspaper Il Mezzogiorno. Would you be so kind as to grant me an interview?'
'No.'
'I won't waste your time, I promise.'
'No.'
...
'Is this Inspector Montalbano? Spingardi here, Attilio Spingardi, from the RAI office in Palermo. We're putting together a roundtable to discuss'
'No.'
'At least let me finish!'
'No.'
...
'Darling? It's Livia. How are you feeling?'
'Fine. Why?'
'I just saw you on TV.'
'Oh, Christ! You mean they showed that all over Italy?'
'I think so. But it was very brief, you know.'
'Could you hear what I was saying?'
'No, one could only hear the commentator speaking. But I could clearly see your face, and that's what got me worried. You were yellow as a lemon.'
'It was even in color?'
'Of course it was in color. You kept putting your hand over your eyes and rubbing your forehead.'
'I had a headache and the lights were bothering me.'
'Are you better now?'
'Yes.'
...
'Inspector Montalbano? My name is Stefania Quattrini, from the magazine Essere Donna. We'd like to do a telephone interview with you. Could you remain on the line?'
'No.'
'It'll only take a few seconds.'
'No.'
'Do I have the honor of actually speaking with the famous Inspector Montalbano who holds press conferences?'
'Don't break my balls.'
