The Snack Thief Read Online Free PDF Page A

say? A Tunisian patrol boat orders
them to stop, the fishing boat refuses, the patrol boat
fires. Except that things went a bit differently this time. This
time, somebody got killed, and Im sure the Tunisians are sorrier
than anybody about it. Because all they care about is
seizing the boat and squeezing a ton of money out of the
owner, who then has to negotiate with the Tunisian government.
    What about ours?
    Our what?
    Our government. Dont they come into the picture
somewhere?
    God forbid! Theyd make everybody waste an endless
amount of time trying to resolve the problem through diplomatic
channels. You see, the longer the fishing boat is detained,
the less the owner earns.
    But what do the Tunisian coast guards get out of it?
    They get a cut, just like the municipal cops in some of
our towns. Not officially, of course. The captain of the Santopadre,
whos also the owner, says it was the Rameh that attacked
them.
    And whats that?
    Thats the name of a Tunisian motor patrol boat whose
commanding officer is notorious for behaving exactly like a
pirate. But since somebody got killed this time, our government
will be forced to intervene. The prefect asked for a very
detailed report.
    So why did they come and bust our balls instead of
dealing directly with Maz?
    The Tunisian didnt die immediately, and Vig was the
nearest port. At any rate, the poor bastard didnt make it.
    Did they radio for help?
    Yes, they hailed the Fulmine, a patrol boat thats always
riding at anchor in our port.
    How did you put that?
    Why, what did I say?
    You said: riding at anchor. And you probably wrote
that in your report to the prefect. A nitpicker like that, I can
already imagine his reaction! Youre fucked, Mimby your
very own hand.
    And what should I have written?
    Moored, Mimor docked. Riding at anchor means
anchored on the open sea. Theres a fundamental difference.
    Oh, God!
    It was well known that the prefect, who went by the
name of Dieterich and hailed from Bolzano, didnt know a
cae from a cruiser, but Augello had swallowed the bait and
Montalbano relished his small victory.
    Dont worry about it. So what was the upshot?
    The Fulmine arrived at the scene in less than half an
    hour, but once there, they didnt find anything. They cruised
around a bit in the area, with no results. This is what the Harbor
Office learned by radio. When our patrol boat comes
back in well know a few more details.
    Bah! said the inspector, doubtful.
    Whats wrong?
    I dont see why it should be of any concern to us or our
government if some Tunisians kill a Tunisian.
    Mimmouth agape, just stared at him.
    You know, Salvo, Im sure I say my share of stupid things,
but when you come out with one, its always a whopper.
    Bah! repeated Montalbano, unconvinced hed said
anything stupid.
    So, what about our dead man, the one in the elevator?
What can you tell me about him?
    Im not going to tell you anything. That dead mans
mine. You took the Tunisian, Im taking the guy from
Vig.
    Lets hope the weather improves, thought Augello. Otherwise,
hows anyone going to put up with this guy?
    Hello, Inspector Montalbano? This is Marniti.
    What can I do for you, Major?
    I wanted to let you know that our command has de-
cidedand I agree with themthat the fishing-boat incident
should be handled by the Harbor Office of Maz. The
Santopadre should therefore weigh anchor at once. Do your
people need to do any further searches on the vessel?
    I dont think so. But Im thinking that we, too, ought to
abide by the wise decision of your command.
    I didnt dare ask.
    Montalbano here, Mr. Commissioner. Please excuse me if
    Any news?
    No, nothing. I was just having some, uh, procedural
doubts. Major Marniti of the Harbor Office phoned me just
now to tell me their command has decided that the investigation
of the Tunisian who was machine-gunned should be
transferred to Maz. So I was wondering if we, too
    Yes, I see,