IM8 The Patience of the Spider (2007)

by Andrea Camilleri

  Why? Thats the big question. So what do I do now? If you want to play their game, then broadcast the phone

  call. Its not my job to help criminals. Good for you! Ill make sure to carve those noble words

  on your tombstone. Youre such an asshole, said Zito, grabbing his crotch. Well, then, since youve declared yourself an honorable

  journalist, youll call the judge and the commissioner, tell

  them about the recording, and make it available to them. Thats what Ill do. Youd better do it right away. You in some kind of hurry? asked Zito as he was dial

  ing the commissioners office.

  Montalbano didnt answer.

  Ill wait for you outside, he said, getting up and going out.

  It was a truly gentle morning, with a light, delicate wind blowing. The inspector fired up a cigarette but didnt have time to finish it before the newsman came out.

  Done.

  What did they tell you?

  Not to broadcast anything at all. Theyre sending an officer to come pick up the cassette.

  Shall we go back inside? asked the inspector.

  You want to keep me company?

  No, I want to see something.

  When they entered the office, Montalbano told Nicol turn on the television and tune in to TeleVig.

  What do you want to hear from those assholes?

  Just wait and youll understand why I was in such a hurry for you to call the commissioner.

  At the bottom of the screen appeared the words:

  special edition of televig news, coming right up.

  Shit! said NicolThey called them, too! And those sleazeballs are going to broadcast it!

  Isnt that what you expected?

  No. And you made me lose the scoop!

  You want to turn back now? Make up your mind: Are you an honest or a dishonest journalist?

  Im honest, all right, but losing a scoop of ones own free will really hurts!

  The scroll with the announcement disappeared, and the TeleVig News logo came onto the screen. Then, without

  any introduction, Mr. Mistrettas face appeared. It was a replay of the appeal hed already made the day after the kidnapping. Then a newsman appeared.

  We rebroadcast the plea of Susannas father for a specific reason. Now, please listen to the chilling document that was called in to our studios this morning.

  Against a backdrop of the Mistretta villa, one heard the exact same telephone call that was made to the Free Channel. Then they cut to the prune face of Pippo Ragonese.

  Let me say straight off that here at TeleVig, the editorial staff was terribly torn over whether to broadcast the phone call wed just received. The anguished and anguishing voice of Susanna Mistretta is not something our consciences can easily bear hearing, living as we do in a civilized society. But your right to the news prevailed. The publics right to know is sacrosanct, and it is our sacrosanct duty as journalists to respect this right. Otherwise we could no longer proudly call ourselves journalists in the public service. We chose to rebroadcast the girls fathers desperate appeal before letting you hear that telephone call. The kidnappers do not realize, or do not want to realize, that their ransom demand can only come to nothing, given the well-known financial straits of the Mistretta family. In this tragic stalemate, our hope resides in the forces of order, particularly in Inspector Minutolo, a man of vast experience, whom we fervently wish a prompt success.

  The first newsman reappeared and said:

  This special edition will be rebroadcast every hour.

  Partys over, time to go home.

  A rock music program began.

  Montalbano never stopped marveling at the people who

  worked in television. For example, they show you images of an earthquake with thousands of victims, whole towns swallowed up, small children wounded and crying, bits of human corpses, and then right afterwards they say: And now a few beautiful shots of Carnival in Rio. Colorful floats, happy faces, sambas, asses.

  The bastard and son of a bitch! said Zito, turning red in the face and kicking a chair.

  Wait, Ill fix him, said Montalbano.

  He quickly dialed a number and then waited a few minutes, the receiver glued to his ear.

  Hello? Montalbano here. The commissioner, please. Yes, thank you. Yes, Ill remain on the line. Yes. Mr. Commissioner? Good day. Sorry to bother you, but Im calling from the offices of the Free Channel. Yes, I know that Nicolto just called you. Of course, hes a responsible citizen and was only doing his duty ...He set aside his interests as a journalist and...Of course, Ill tell him...Well, what I wanted to say, sir, was that as I was sitting here, another anonymous call came in.

  Nicoloked at him, flabbergasted, shaking his hand at him, a cacocciola, as if to say: What the hell?

  The same voice as before, Montalbano continued, still on the phone, told him to get ready to record. Except that when they called back five minutes later, not only was there a bad connection and you couldnt understand a thing they said, but the tape recorder didnt work.

  What kind of bullshit are you feeding him? Nicolid under his breath.

  Yes, Mr. Commissioner, Ill remain at the scene and wait

  for them to retry. Whats that you say? TeleVig has just broadcast the phone call? Thats not possible! And they replayed the fathers plea? No, I didnt know. But this is unheard of! It can even be considered a crime! They should have turned the tape over to the authorities, not broadcast it on the air! Just as Zito did! You say the judge is looking into what measures can be taken? Good! Excellent! Oh, sir, something just occurred to me. Only a hunch, mind you. If they just called back the Free Channel, they certainly must have also called back TeleVig. And maybe TeleVig had more luck and managed to tape the second call. ...Which of course theyll deny having received, because theyll want to save it to broadcast at the right moment ...A dirty game, youre absolutely right ...Far be it from me to give you advice, sir, what with all your expertise, but I think a thorough search of the TeleVig offices might produce ...yes ...yes ...My humble respects, Mr. Commissioner.

  Nicoloked at him in admiration.

  Youre a master showman!

  Youll see, between the prosecutors machinations and the commissioners search, they wont even have time to piss, let alone rebroadcast their special edition!

  They laughed, but then Nicolrned serious again.

  To hear first the father, then the kidnappers, he said, it sounds like a conversation between deaf people. The father says he hasnt got a cent, and the others tell him to get the money ready. Even if he sells his villa, how much money could they possibly get?

  Are you of the same opinion as your distinguished colleague Pippo Ragonese?

  And what would that be?

  That the kidnapping is the work of inexperienced third worlders who dont realize they have nothing to gain and everything to lose?

  Not on your life.

  Maybe the kidnappers dont have a TV and havent seen the fathers appeal.

  Or maybe . . . Nicolgan but then stopped, as if in doubt.

  7

  Or maybe what? Montalbano prodded.

  I just had an idea, but Im embarrassed to tell you what it is.

  I promise you that no matter how stupid it is, it will never leave this room.

  Its like something out of an American movie. People in town say that up until about five or six years ago, the Mistrettas lived high on the hog. Then they were forced to sell everything. Isnt it possible that the kidnapping was organized by someone who came back to Vig after a long absence and was therefore unaware of the Mistretta familys financial situation?

  Your idea sounds to me more like something out of Totand Peppino than an American movie. Use your brains! You cant pull off this kind of kidnapping alone, Nicolome accomplice would surely have told your homecoming son of Vig that Mistretta could scarcely put bread on the table! By the way, could you tell me how the Mistrettas happened to lose everything?

  You know, I dont have the slightest idea m
yself? I believe they were forced to sell everything off, all at once . . .

  To sell off what?

  Land, houses, stores . . .

  They were forced, you say? How strange!

  Whats so strange about it?

  Its as though, six years ago, they urgently needed money to pay, well, a ransom.

  But there was no kidnapping six years ago.

  Maybe not. Or maybe nobody knew about it.

  Although the judge had taken immediate action, TeleVig managed to broadcast a replay of the special report before the restraining order went into effect. And this time not only all of Vig, but the entire province of Montelusa watched and listened, spellbound. The news had spread by word of mouth with lightning speed. If the kidnappers intention had been to make everyone aware of the situation, they had fully succeeded.

  One hour later, in the place of another rebroadcast of the special report, Pippo Ragonese appeared on the screen with his eyes popping out of his head. In a hoarse voice he said he felt duty-bound to inform everyone that at that moment the television station was being subjected to some highly unusual harassment that was clearly an abuse of power, an intimidation tactic, a veritable persecution. He explained that the recording of the kidnappers message had been confiscated by court order and that police were presently searching the premises for something, though nobody quite knew what. He concluded by saying that never in a million years would the authorities succeed in throttling the voice of free information as represented by

  him and TeleVig, and that he would keep the public duly informed of any new developments in this dire situation.

  Montalbano relished all the confusion hed caused from NicolZitos office, then went back to the station. He had barely entered when he received a call from Livia.

  Hello, Salvo? Livia! Whats wrong? When Livia called him at the office, it usually meant that

  something serious had happened. Marta phoned me. Marta Gianturco was the wife of an officer with the Har

  bor Authority and one of Livias few friends in Vig. So? She told me to turn on the television immediately and

  watch the special edition of TeleVig News, which I did. Pause. It was terrible ...that poor girl ...her voice was heart

  breaking . . . she continued, after a moment. What was there to say? Yeah ...I know... said Montalbano, just to let her

  know he was listening. Then I heard Ragonese say you were searching his of

  fices. Well...actually . . . Are you getting anywhere? Were sinking fast, he wanted to say. Instead he said: Were making progress.

  Do you suspect Ragonese of having kidnapped the girl? Livia asked ironically. Livia, this is no time for sarcasm. I told you we were making progress. I hope so, Livia said stormily, in the sort of tone a low, black cloud might have. And she hung up.

  So now Livia had taken to making insulting and threatening phone calls. Wasnt it a bit excessive to call them threatening? No, it was not. She was liable to prosecution, in fact. Come on, stop being such an asshole and get over your anger. There. Are you calm now? Yes? Then call the person you were thinking of calling and forget about Livia.

  Hello? Dr. Carlo Mistretta? Inspector Montalbano here.

  Any news?

  No, Im sorry to say. But Id like to have a few words with you, Doctor.

  Im terribly busy this morning. And this afternoon as well. Ive been neglecting my patients a bit, Im afraid. Could we do it this evening? Yes? All right, lets see, we could meet at my brothers house around

  Im sorry, Doctor, but I would like to speak to you alone.

  Do you want me to come to the station?

  No, you neednt bother.

  Okay, then come to my house around eight oclock this evening. All right? I live on Via ...well, its too complicated to explain. Lets do this. Ill meet you at the first filling station on the road to Fela, just outside Vig. At eight oclock.

  The telephone rang again.

  Hlo, Chief? Theres some lady wants to talk to you poissonally in poisson. Says iss a poissonal matter.

  Did she say what her name is?

  I tink she said GI Joe, Chief.

  What! Mostly out of curiosity to find out what the womans real name was, he accepted the call.

  Is det you, Signore? This is Adelina Cirrinci

  His housekeeper! He hadnt seen her since Livia arrived. What could have happened? Or maybe she wanted to threaten him, too, with something like: If you dont free that girl within two days, Im not going to come to your house and cook for you anymore. A terrifying prospect, especially as he remembered one of her favorite sayings: Tilefunu e tiligramma portanu malanna, or, Phone calls and telegrams bring bad news. Therefore, if shed picked up the phone, it meant she had something very serious to tell him.

  What is it,Adel

  Signore, I wanna youta know that Pippinas a jess hedda baby.

  Who the hell was Pippina? And why was she telling him shed just given birth? His housekeeper realized the inspector was drawing a blank.

  Don you rimimber, Signore? Pippinas my son a Pasqualis wife.

  Adelina had two criminally inclined sons who were constantly in and out of jail, and the inspector had attended the wedding of the younger son, Pasquale. Had nine months already passed? Jesus, how time flew! He grew sullen. For two reasons: one, because old age was drawing closer and closer

  and, two, because old age brought to mind banal clichlike the one that had just come into his head. But his anger at having had such a commonplace thought cut short the sadness rising up inside him.

  Boy or girl? Boy, signore. My heartfelt congratulations. Wait, signore. Pasquali an Pippina said they wanna youta

  be the godfather atta bappetism.

  In short, hed done them one good turn by attending the wedding, and now they wanted him do them another by becoming the kids godfather at the baptism.

  And whens the baptism? In about ten days. Gimme a couple of days to think about it,Adelokay? Okay. And whens a Miss Livia leaving?

  He went to his usual trattoria. Livia was already sitting at a table. From afar one could see, from the look she gave him as he sat down, that this going to be no picnic.

  So, are you getting anywhere? she attacked. Livia, we spoke less than an hour ago! So what? A lot of things can happen in an hour. Does this seem like the proper place to discuss these

  things?

  Yes. Because when you come home you never tell me anything about your work. Or would you rather I come to the station to discuss it, Inspector?

  Livia, we really are doing everything we can. At this very

  moment, most of my men, including Mimnd another squad from Montelusa, are scouring the nearby countryside, looking for

  And why, while your men are out scouring the countryside, are you quietly sitting here with me in a trattoria?

  Its what the commissioner wanted.

  The commissioner wanted you to go eat at a trattoria while your men are working hard and that girls life is a living hell?

  What a pain in the ass!

  Livia, stop breaking my balls!

  Hiding behind obscenity, eh?

  Livia, you would make a peerless agent provocateur.The commissioner has divvied up responsibilities. Im working with Minutolo, whos in charge of the investigation, while Mim and others keep searching. Its hard work.

  Poor Mim

  Poor everybody, according to Livia. Poor girl, poor Mim..The only person unworthy of her pity was him. He pushed away the dish of plain spaghetti allaglio e olio, which hed been forced to order because Livia was with him. Enzo, the proprietor, came running, concerned.

  Whats wrong, Inspector?

  Nothing, Im just not very hungry, he lied.

  Livia didnt make a peep and went on eating. In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere and get himself ready to savor the second course hed orderedaiole in a sauce whose fragrance was wafting out from the kitchen, sending him positive signalshe decided to tell Livia about the phone call from his housekeeper. He set off on the wrong
foot.

  Adelina rang me at the office this morning. I see. She shot out the words like bullets. Whats I see supposed to mean? It means Adelina rings you at the office, not at home, be

  cause at home I might answer instead of you, which would

  surely leave her traumatized. Okay, never mind. No, Im curious. What did she want? She wants me to go be the godfather at the baptism of

  her grandson, the son of her son Pasquale. And what did you tell her? I asked her to give me a couple of days to think about it.

  But I have to confess, Im leaning toward saying yes. Youre insane! She said it too loudly. Mr. Militello, an accountant sitting

  at the table to their left, stopped his fork in midair, mouth hanging open; Dr. Piscitello, sitting at the table on their right, choked on the wine hed just sipped.

  Why? asked Montalbano, puzzled at her vehement reaction.

  What do you mean, why? Isnt this Pasquale, your house- keepers son, a repeat offender? Havent you arrested him several times yourself?

  So what? I would be the godfather of a newborn infant who, until proved otherwise, hasnt yet had the time to become a repeat offender like his father.

  Thats not what Im saying. Do you know what it means to be the godfather at a babys baptism?

  I dunno, you hold the baby while the priest Livia shook her forefinger. Sorry, darling, but becoming a godfather means taking

  on specific responsibilities. Didnt you know? No, Montalbano said sincerely. If anything should happen to the father, the godfather is

  supposed to take his place in all matters concerning the child.

  He becomes a kind of stand-in for the father. Really?! said Montalbano, in shock. Ask around, if you dont believe me. So, what may hap

  pen is that next time you arrest this Pasquale, hell go to jail and youll have to see to the needs of his son and keep an eye on his behavior...Can you imagine that?

  Er . . . shall I bring the fish? asked Enzo. No, said Montalbano. Yes, said Livia. Livia refused to let him drive her home, taking the bus to

  Marinella instead. Since he hadnt eaten anything, Montalbano skipped the walk along the jetty and went back to the office. It wasnt even three oclock yet. Catarella intercepted him in the main entrance.