underground cavity had given way under the force of the water falling from above.
Montalbano removed Livia’s hat, threw himself down flat on the ground, with his face practically inside the pit. Then he moved onto his side and stuck his arm into the opening, without, however, managing to touch the bottom. He realized that the pit did not descend vertically, but slantwise, along a sort of gentle incline.
He felt absolutely certain—and couldn’t say why—that the kid had slipped into that pit and was no longer able to climb back out.
He stood up, ran wildly into the house, into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, grabbed the platter full of anchovies, returned to the pit, knelt down, and began placing the anchovies one by one around the entrance.
At that moment Gallo arrived and saw the inspector—who, in the meantime, had put Livia’s pink hat back on—sitting on the ground, his chest and arms soiled with dirt, staring intently at a hole in the ground ringed with anchovies.
He staggered, at a loss, stunned by the suspicion that his superior had gone out of his mind.What should he do? Humor him, the way one does with crazy people, to keep them calm?
“That’s a really nice hole there, with all those anchovies around it,” he said with an admiring smile, as if he were gazing at a work of modern art.
Montalbano gestured imperiously for him to shut up. Gallo fell silent, afraid the inspector, in his madness, might turn violent.
3
Five minutes later, they were both sitting there motionless. Gallo, too, had taken to staring, spellbound, at the anchovy-adorned pit, having caught the infectious intensity with which Montalbano kept his eye on it.
They looked as if sight was the only sense they had working, as if they’d turned all the other ones off and didn’t hear the breath of the sea or smell the scent of a jasmine plant near the terrace.
Then, after what seemed to them like an eternity, out of the pit popped the head of Ruggero. He looked at Montalbano, uttered a mrrrow of thanks, and attacked the first anchovy.
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Gallo, having finally understood.
“I would bet my family jewels,” said Montalbano, standing up, “that the kid is down there.”
“Let’s go find a shovel!” said Gallo.
“Don’t be an idiot. The ground is so soft, it won’t take but a minute to make it cave in.”
“What’ll we do?”
“You stay here and watch what the cat does. I’m gonna go call Fazio from the car.”
“Fazio?”
“At your service, Chief.”
“Listen, I’m with Gallo in the Pizzo district, at Montereale Marina.”
“I know the place.”
“There’s a little kid, the son of some friends, who I think has fallen into a deep sort of pit in the ground and can’t get out.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“No. Call the fire chief of Montelusa.This is their sort of thing. Tell him the ground is very friable, and they should bring proper tools for digging and shoring up the walls.And, most importantly, no sirens, no noise at all. I don’t want the media finding out. I don’t want another Vermicino.”
“Should I come, too?”
“No, there’s no need.”
He went into the house and called Livia’s cell phone from the telephone in the living room.
“How’s Laura doing?”
“She’s asleep. They gave her a shot of tranquilizer. We were just getting into the car.What about Bruno?”
“I think I’ve located the spot where he is.”
“Oh, God! What does that mean?”
“It means he fell into a pit where he can’t get out.”
“But . . . is he alive?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.The firemen will be here soon. When the hospital discharges Laura, take her to our place in Marinella. I don’t want her here. Guido can come, if he wants.”
“Keep me informed. I mean it.”
He went back to Gallo, who hadn’t moved.
“What did the cat do?”
“He ate all the anchovies and went into the house. Didn’t you see him?”
“No. He must have gone
Montalbano removed Livia’s hat, threw himself down flat on the ground, with his face practically inside the pit. Then he moved onto his side and stuck his arm into the opening, without, however, managing to touch the bottom. He realized that the pit did not descend vertically, but slantwise, along a sort of gentle incline.
He felt absolutely certain—and couldn’t say why—that the kid had slipped into that pit and was no longer able to climb back out.
He stood up, ran wildly into the house, into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, grabbed the platter full of anchovies, returned to the pit, knelt down, and began placing the anchovies one by one around the entrance.
At that moment Gallo arrived and saw the inspector—who, in the meantime, had put Livia’s pink hat back on—sitting on the ground, his chest and arms soiled with dirt, staring intently at a hole in the ground ringed with anchovies.
He staggered, at a loss, stunned by the suspicion that his superior had gone out of his mind.What should he do? Humor him, the way one does with crazy people, to keep them calm?
“That’s a really nice hole there, with all those anchovies around it,” he said with an admiring smile, as if he were gazing at a work of modern art.
Montalbano gestured imperiously for him to shut up. Gallo fell silent, afraid the inspector, in his madness, might turn violent.
3
Five minutes later, they were both sitting there motionless. Gallo, too, had taken to staring, spellbound, at the anchovy-adorned pit, having caught the infectious intensity with which Montalbano kept his eye on it.
They looked as if sight was the only sense they had working, as if they’d turned all the other ones off and didn’t hear the breath of the sea or smell the scent of a jasmine plant near the terrace.
Then, after what seemed to them like an eternity, out of the pit popped the head of Ruggero. He looked at Montalbano, uttered a mrrrow of thanks, and attacked the first anchovy.
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Gallo, having finally understood.
“I would bet my family jewels,” said Montalbano, standing up, “that the kid is down there.”
“Let’s go find a shovel!” said Gallo.
“Don’t be an idiot. The ground is so soft, it won’t take but a minute to make it cave in.”
“What’ll we do?”
“You stay here and watch what the cat does. I’m gonna go call Fazio from the car.”
“Fazio?”
“At your service, Chief.”
“Listen, I’m with Gallo in the Pizzo district, at Montereale Marina.”
“I know the place.”
“There’s a little kid, the son of some friends, who I think has fallen into a deep sort of pit in the ground and can’t get out.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“No. Call the fire chief of Montelusa.This is their sort of thing. Tell him the ground is very friable, and they should bring proper tools for digging and shoring up the walls.And, most importantly, no sirens, no noise at all. I don’t want the media finding out. I don’t want another Vermicino.”
“Should I come, too?”
“No, there’s no need.”
He went into the house and called Livia’s cell phone from the telephone in the living room.
“How’s Laura doing?”
“She’s asleep. They gave her a shot of tranquilizer. We were just getting into the car.What about Bruno?”
“I think I’ve located the spot where he is.”
“Oh, God! What does that mean?”
“It means he fell into a pit where he can’t get out.”
“But . . . is he alive?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.The firemen will be here soon. When the hospital discharges Laura, take her to our place in Marinella. I don’t want her here. Guido can come, if he wants.”
“Keep me informed. I mean it.”
He went back to Gallo, who hadn’t moved.
“What did the cat do?”
“He ate all the anchovies and went into the house. Didn’t you see him?”
“No. He must have gone
Similar Books
The Billionaire's Island Romance (The Romero Brothers, Book 3.5)
Shadonna Richards
What's a Boy to Do
Diane Adams
Fingersmith
Sarah Waters
Tell Me Your Dreams
Sidney Sheldon
Lehrter Station
David Downing
The Twin
Gerbrand Bakker
The Waterman: A Novel of the Chesapeake Bay
Tim Junkin
The Teratologist
Edward Lee
A Latent Dark
Martin Kee
King of the Godfathers
Anthony Destefano