The Day of the Owl Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Leonardo Sciascia
the man who, some months ago, made certain proposals to Colasberna; proposals, mark you, only proposals ... '
'I know nothing,' said the informer and, encouraged by the captain's gentle manner, his spy's instinct soared like a lark trilling its joy at being able to hurt. 'I know nothing,' he repeated, 'but, taking a shot in the dark, I'd say that the proposals were made either by Ciccio La Rosa or by Saro Pizzuco ... ' But already that giddy flight of joy had turned into a headlong drop, a stone plummeting down into the very centre of his being, his fear.
*
'Another question in the House,' said His Excellency. ' "Is the Minister aware of the serious acts of violence which have recently taken place in Sicily and what steps does he intend to take ...?" etc. etc. The communists, as usual. It seems that they are referring to the murder of that contractor ... What was his name?'
'Colasberna, Excellency.'
'Colasberna ... A communist, it seems ...'
'A socialist, Excellency.'
'You will make that distinction. You are stubborn, my friend, allow me to tell you. Communist or socialist, what's the difference?'
'At the present juncture ...'
'For heaven's sake, no explanations. Even I read the papers sometimes, you know ... '
'I would never take the liberty of...'
'Good. Now, to avoid this ...'
'Colasberna.'
'This Colasberna becoming a martyr in the communist ... sorry, I mean socialist cause, we must find out who killed him. Pretty damn quickly, too, so that the Minister can reply that Colasberna was the victim of a question of interest, or had been after somebody's wife and politics had nothing to do with it.'
'The investigation is going well. It is clearly a mafia crime, but nothing to do with politics. Captain Bellodi...'
'Who is this Bellodi?'
'He commands the Carabinieri in C. He's been in Sicily some months now ... '
'Right. Now here's the point: I've been wanting to talk to you for some while about Bellodi. This fellow, my dear friend, has a fixation about the mafia. One of those Northerners with a head full of prejudices who begin to see the mafia in everything before they even get off the ferry-boat. If he says that Colasberna was killed by the mafia, we're sunk. I don't know whether you read what a journalist wrote some weeks ago about the kidnapping of that landowner ... What was his name?'
'Mendolia.'
'That's it, Mendolia. He said things to make your hair stand on end. That the mafia exists, that it is a powerful organization, that it controls everything: flocks, fruit and vegetables, public works and Greek vases ... That about Greek vases is priceless ... like a comic postcard. What I say is this: let's have a little sense of responsibility ... Do you believe in the mafia?'
'Well, er ...'
'And you?'
'No, I don't.'
'Good man! We two, both Sicilians, don't believe in the mafia. That ought to mean something to you, who evidently do. But I can understand you. You aren't Sicilian and prejudices die hard. In time you will be convinced that it is all a build-up. But, meanwhile, now for heaven's sake keep an eye on the investigations of this man Bellodi... And you, who don't believe in the mafia, try to get something done. Send someone, someone who knows how to handle things. We don't want any trouble with Bellodi, but... Ima summis mutare. Do you understand Latin? Not Horace's: mine, I mean.'
*
Paolo Nicolosi, tree-pruner by trade, born at B. on December 14th, 1920, now domiciled and resident in S., at No. 97 Via Cavour, had been missing for five days. On the fourth day his wife had gone back to see the sergeantmajor, who, this time, began to take things seriously. His report lay on Captain Bellodi's desk and 'No. 97 Via Cavour' was underlined in red. The captain was pacing up and down the room smoking furiously; he was waiting to hear from the Records Office and from the Magistrature if Paolo Nicolosi had a criminal record or there were any outstanding charges against him. ^ Colasberna had been shot from
'I know nothing,' said the informer and, encouraged by the captain's gentle manner, his spy's instinct soared like a lark trilling its joy at being able to hurt. 'I know nothing,' he repeated, 'but, taking a shot in the dark, I'd say that the proposals were made either by Ciccio La Rosa or by Saro Pizzuco ... ' But already that giddy flight of joy had turned into a headlong drop, a stone plummeting down into the very centre of his being, his fear.
*
'Another question in the House,' said His Excellency. ' "Is the Minister aware of the serious acts of violence which have recently taken place in Sicily and what steps does he intend to take ...?" etc. etc. The communists, as usual. It seems that they are referring to the murder of that contractor ... What was his name?'
'Colasberna, Excellency.'
'Colasberna ... A communist, it seems ...'
'A socialist, Excellency.'
'You will make that distinction. You are stubborn, my friend, allow me to tell you. Communist or socialist, what's the difference?'
'At the present juncture ...'
'For heaven's sake, no explanations. Even I read the papers sometimes, you know ... '
'I would never take the liberty of...'
'Good. Now, to avoid this ...'
'Colasberna.'
'This Colasberna becoming a martyr in the communist ... sorry, I mean socialist cause, we must find out who killed him. Pretty damn quickly, too, so that the Minister can reply that Colasberna was the victim of a question of interest, or had been after somebody's wife and politics had nothing to do with it.'
'The investigation is going well. It is clearly a mafia crime, but nothing to do with politics. Captain Bellodi...'
'Who is this Bellodi?'
'He commands the Carabinieri in C. He's been in Sicily some months now ... '
'Right. Now here's the point: I've been wanting to talk to you for some while about Bellodi. This fellow, my dear friend, has a fixation about the mafia. One of those Northerners with a head full of prejudices who begin to see the mafia in everything before they even get off the ferry-boat. If he says that Colasberna was killed by the mafia, we're sunk. I don't know whether you read what a journalist wrote some weeks ago about the kidnapping of that landowner ... What was his name?'
'Mendolia.'
'That's it, Mendolia. He said things to make your hair stand on end. That the mafia exists, that it is a powerful organization, that it controls everything: flocks, fruit and vegetables, public works and Greek vases ... That about Greek vases is priceless ... like a comic postcard. What I say is this: let's have a little sense of responsibility ... Do you believe in the mafia?'
'Well, er ...'
'And you?'
'No, I don't.'
'Good man! We two, both Sicilians, don't believe in the mafia. That ought to mean something to you, who evidently do. But I can understand you. You aren't Sicilian and prejudices die hard. In time you will be convinced that it is all a build-up. But, meanwhile, now for heaven's sake keep an eye on the investigations of this man Bellodi... And you, who don't believe in the mafia, try to get something done. Send someone, someone who knows how to handle things. We don't want any trouble with Bellodi, but... Ima summis mutare. Do you understand Latin? Not Horace's: mine, I mean.'
*
Paolo Nicolosi, tree-pruner by trade, born at B. on December 14th, 1920, now domiciled and resident in S., at No. 97 Via Cavour, had been missing for five days. On the fourth day his wife had gone back to see the sergeantmajor, who, this time, began to take things seriously. His report lay on Captain Bellodi's desk and 'No. 97 Via Cavour' was underlined in red. The captain was pacing up and down the room smoking furiously; he was waiting to hear from the Records Office and from the Magistrature if Paolo Nicolosi had a criminal record or there were any outstanding charges against him. ^ Colasberna had been shot from
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