In the car, on his way to a telephone booth that was supposed to be near the Torresanta crossroads (supposed to be, that is, unless the receiver had been torn off, the entire telephone had been stolen, or the booth itself had disappeared), Montalbano decided not to call even his second-in-command, Mim Augello, because he was the type he couldn't help it, who before anything else would inform the newsmen and then pretend to be surprised when they showed up at the scene. That left only Fazio and Tortorella, the two sergeants or whatever the hell they were called nowadays. He chose Fazio, since Tortorella had been shot in the belly not long before and hadn't yet fully recovered, feeling pain now and then in the wound.
The booth was miraculously still there, the phone miraculously worked, and Fazio picked up before the second ring had finished.
'Fazio, are you already awake at this hour?'
'Sure am, Chief. Less than a minute ago I got a call from Catarella.'
'What did he want?'
'He was speaking Talian so I couldn't make much sense of it. But if I had to guess, I'd say that last night somebody cleaned out Carmelo Ingrassias supermarket, the great big one just outside of town. They used a large truck or tractor- trailer at the very least.'
'Wasn't there a night watchman?'
'There was, but nobody can find him. Were you on your way there now?'
'Yes. Forget it. Phone Tortorella immediately and tell him to fill Augello in. Let those two take care of it. Tell them you can't go, make up whatever bullshit you can think of, say you fell out of bed and hit your head. No: tell them the carabinieri came and arrested you. Better yet, call them and tell them to notify the carabinieri it's small potatoes, after all, just some shitty little robbery, and they're always happy when we bring them into our cases. Now listen up, here's what I want you to do: notify Tortorella, Augello, and the carabinieri about the theft, then round up Gallo, Galluzzo, Jesus Christ, I feel like I'm running a chicken farm here, and German and bring them all where I tell you to go. And arm yourselves with submachine guns.'
'Shit!'
'Shit is right. This is a big deal and we have to handle it carefully. No one is to whisper even half a word about this, especially Galluzzo with his newsman brother-in-law. And tell that chickenhead Gallo not to drive like he's at Indianapolis. No sirens, no flashing lights. When you splash and muddy the waters, the fish escapes. Now pay attention and I'll explain where you're to meet me.'
They arrived very quietly, not half an hour after the phone call, looking like a routine patrol. Getting out of the car, they went up to Montalbano, who signaled them to follow him. They met back up behind a half-ruined house, so that they could not be seen from the main road.
'Theres a machine gun in the car for you,' said Fazio.
'Stick it up your ass. Now listen: if we play our cards right, we just might bring Tano the Greek home with us.'
Montalbano palpably felt that his men had ceased to breathe for a moment.
'Tano the Greek is around here?' Fazio wondered aloud, being the first to recover.
'I got a good look at him, and it's him. He's grown a mustache and beard, but you can still recognize him.'
'How did you find him?'
'Never mind, Fazio, I'll explain everything later. Tano's in a little house at the top of that hill. You can't see it from here. There are olive trees all around it. It's a two-room house, one room on top of the other. It's got a door and a window in front; there's another window to the top room, but that's in back. Is that clear? Did you take that all in? Tano's only way out is through the front, unless he decides in desperation to throw himself out the rear window, though he'd risk breaking his legs. So here's what we'll do: Fazio and Gallo go in back; me, Germanand Galluzzo will break in the door and go inside.'
Fazio looked doubtful.
'What's wrong? Don't you agree?'
'Wouldn't it be better to surround the house and tell him to surrender? It's five against one, he'd never get away.'
'How do you know there's nobody inside the house with Tano?'
Fazio shut up.
'Listen to me,' said Montalbano, concluding his brief war council, 'it's better if we bring him an Easter egg with a surprise inside.'
3
Montalbano calculated that Fazio and Gallo must have been in position behind the cottage for at least five minutes. As for him, sprawled belly-down on the grass, pistol in hand, with a rock pushing irksomely straight into the pit of his stomach, he felt profoundly ridiculous, like a character in a gangster film, and therefore could not wait to give the signal to raise the curtain. He looked at Galluzzo, who was beside him, German as farther away, to the right and asked him in a whisper:
'Are you ready?'
'Yes sir,' answered the policeman, who was a visible bundle of nerves and sweating. Montalbano felt sorry for him, but couldn't very well come out and tell him that it was all a put-on of dubious outcome, it was true, but still humbug.
'Go!' he ordered him.
As though launched by a tightly compressed spring and almost not touching the ground, in three bounds
