'But you could have kept an eye out yourself !'
'Your word is worth nothing! You promised me before leaving Vig that you'd empty your head of all your concerns, and instead you keep getting lost in your own thoughts.'
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'
He paid very close attention for the first half hour of road, but then, treacherously, the thought returned: The dog made sense, as did the bowl with the money, but not the jug. Why?
He hadn't even begun to venture a hypothesis when he was blinded by a trucks headlights and realized he had drifted left of center and was heading straight into what would have been a ghastly collision. He jerked the wheel wildly, deafened by Livias scream and the angry blast of the trucks horn, and they bounced their way across a newly plowed field before the car came to a halt, stuck in a furrow. Neither of them said a word; there was nothing to say. Livia was panting heavily. Montalbano dreaded what lay in store for him, the moment the woman he loved caught her breath. Like a coward he took cover and sought her compassion.
'You know, I didn't tell you earlier because I didn't want to alarm you, but this afternoon, after lunch, I was unwell...'
Then the whole incident turned into something between tragedy and a Laurel and Hardy film. The car would not budge, were they even to fire cannons at it. Livia withdrew into a scornful silence. At a certain point, Montalbano abandoned his efforts to pull out of the rut, for fear of overheating the engine. He slung their bags over his shoulder, Livia following a few steps behind. A passing motorist took pity on the wretched pair at the edge of the road and drove them to Marsala. After leaving Livia at a hotel, Montalbano went to the local police station, identified himself, and with the help of an officer, woke up someone with a tow truck. Between one thing and the next, when he lay down beside Livia, who was tossing in her sleep, it was four oclock in the morning.
22
To win forgiveness, Montalbano made up his mind to be affectionate, patient, pleasant, and obedient. It worked, and Livia soon cheered up. She was enchanted by Mozia, amazed by the road just under the waters surface, which linked the island with the coast, and charmed by the mosaic flooring of white and black river pebbles in an ancient villa.
'This is the tophet,' said their guide, 'the sacred area of the Phoenicians. There were no buildings; the rites were performed out in the open.'
'The usual sacrifices to the gods?' asked Livia.
'To god,' the guide corrected her, 'the god Baal Hammon. They would sacrifice a firstborn son, strangle him, burn him, and put his remains in a vase that they would bury in the ground, and beside it they would erect a stela. Over seven hundred of these stelae have been found here.'
'Good God!' exclaimed Livia.
'It was not a very nice place for children, signora. When Dionysius of Syracuse sent the admiral Leptines to conquer the island, the Mozians, before surrendering, slit their childrens throats. However you roll the dice, fate was never kind to the little ones of Mozia.'
'Let's get out of here,' said Livia. 'I don't want to hear any more about these people.'
They decided to leave for the island of Pantelleria. They stayed there for six days, finally without quarrels or arguments. It was the right place for Livia to ask one night:
'Why don't we get married?'
'Why not?'
They wisely decided to think it over calmly. The one who stood to lose the most was Livia, since she would have to move far from her home in Boccadasse and adapt to a new rhythm of life.
...
As soon as the airplane took off, carrying Livia away with it, Montalbano rushed to the nearest public telephone and called his friend Zito in Montelusa. He asked him for a name and got his answer, along with a Palermo phone number, which he dialed at once.
'Professor Riccardo Lovecchio?'
'That's me.'
'A mutual friend, Nicolto, gave me your name.'
'How is the old carrot top? I haven't heard from him for a long time.'
The loudspeaker requested that passengers for the Rome flight go to the gate. This gave him an idea as to how he might see the man immediately.
'Nicolto's doing well and sends his regards. Listen, Professor, my name's Montalbano. I'm here at Punta Ri airport and have roughly four hours before I have to catch another flight. I need to speak with you.'
The loudspeaker repeated the request on cue, as if in cahoots with the inspector, who needed answers, and fast.
'Listen, are you Inspector Montalbano of Vig, the one who found the two young murder victims in the cave?'
'Yes?'
'What a coincidence! You know, I was going to look you up one of these days! Come see me at home, I'll wait for you. Here's the address.'
...
'I, for example, once slept for four days and four nights in a row, without eating or drinking. Of course, contributing to my sleep were some twenty-odd joints, five rounds of sex, and a billy club to the head from the
