daughter in the past?â
âNo.â
âHad anyone ever bothered any other little girls?â
âIâve never heard any mention of it.â
The woman was beginning to seem impatient. She looked exhausted.
âThere wasnât anybody in the park who you think could have â¦â
âNo,â she said, shaking her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, then reopened them and looked out the window. The sun was still shining, but some dark clouds were approaching from the north.
âOne last thing, signora ⦠What school did your daughter go to?â
âVia Fibonacci.â
âThank you. Well, for now I donât have anything else to ask you. Iâm sorry to have disturbed you.â
âIt doesnât matter,â she said.
The inspector went over to help her stand up. She had left a wet imprint on the seat of the chair, and there was a strong smell of urine.
âLet me walk you to your room,â said Bordelli. Carla grabbed hold of his arm. After they had taken a few steps towards the door, she froze.
âI just donât understand why,â she said, a gleam of madness in her eyes.
âWeâll catch him,â said Bordelli, squeezing her hand. He accompanied her back to her room, helped her lie down, and pulled the covers over her.
âGoodbye, Signora Panerai,â he said, looking at her fleshless face submerged in the pillow.
âWeâll catch him â¦â she muttered, as if saying goodbye. At that moment a nurse came in and gave her an injection in the arm.
At one oâclock he decided to go and have a bite to eat at Da Cesare. It was already a few days since heâd last put in an appearance. So long an absence was unusual, but lately he hadnât felt like stuffing himself and was happy to eat a panino at the bar. That morning, however, his appetite had reawakened, perhaps as an antidote to the frustration heâd had to stomach over the past few days. He needed a break, to clear his head.
He slipped into Totòâs kitchen, feeling relieved, and flopped on to his stool.
âCiao, Totò.â
âInspector! Whereâve you been hiding?â the cook yelled, coming up to him. Bordelli squeezed his arm to avoid his greasy hands.
âI was a little busy,â he said.
âIâm not surprised ⦠with that maniac at large!â said Totò, making a disgusted face. The inspector tried to change the subject.
âCook anything good today â¦? No, wait. Let me guess,â he said, sniffing the air. Totò looked at him defiantly. â Baccalà alia livornese? â Bordelli asked.
âBravo, Inspector! Except that itâs my own variation.â
âAnd youâve ruined it, Iâm sure ⦠And whatâve you got for the first course?â
âSpaghetti à la however I want it?
âAnd how do you want it?â
âDo you trust Totò?â
âAbsolutely.â
âAnd youâre right ⦠just one minute, Iâll be right back.â
Totò ran and stirred the contents of a big pot, filled five or six bowls with pasta, and set these down on the sill of the serving hatch.Then he dumped some spaghetti for the inspector into the boiling water and stirred for a good minute, humming Stai lontana da me 10 to himself. He then put the baccal à on a low flame and turned about suddenly, like a cowboy ready to draw his gun. After Casimiro, he was the shortest man Bordelli had ever seen.
While they waited for the pasta, they ate some toast and shrimp together. At a certain point Totò folded his arms on his chest and looked Bordelli straight in the eye.
âWhat do you say, Inspector? Are you going to catch that maniac or not?â
âIâm going to catch him, Totò, and soon.â
âLetâs hope so ⦠These disgusting things happen where I come from, too ⦠Right after the war some half-mad bloke killed the
âNo.â
âHad anyone ever bothered any other little girls?â
âIâve never heard any mention of it.â
The woman was beginning to seem impatient. She looked exhausted.
âThere wasnât anybody in the park who you think could have â¦â
âNo,â she said, shaking her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, then reopened them and looked out the window. The sun was still shining, but some dark clouds were approaching from the north.
âOne last thing, signora ⦠What school did your daughter go to?â
âVia Fibonacci.â
âThank you. Well, for now I donât have anything else to ask you. Iâm sorry to have disturbed you.â
âIt doesnât matter,â she said.
The inspector went over to help her stand up. She had left a wet imprint on the seat of the chair, and there was a strong smell of urine.
âLet me walk you to your room,â said Bordelli. Carla grabbed hold of his arm. After they had taken a few steps towards the door, she froze.
âI just donât understand why,â she said, a gleam of madness in her eyes.
âWeâll catch him,â said Bordelli, squeezing her hand. He accompanied her back to her room, helped her lie down, and pulled the covers over her.
âGoodbye, Signora Panerai,â he said, looking at her fleshless face submerged in the pillow.
âWeâll catch him â¦â she muttered, as if saying goodbye. At that moment a nurse came in and gave her an injection in the arm.
At one oâclock he decided to go and have a bite to eat at Da Cesare. It was already a few days since heâd last put in an appearance. So long an absence was unusual, but lately he hadnât felt like stuffing himself and was happy to eat a panino at the bar. That morning, however, his appetite had reawakened, perhaps as an antidote to the frustration heâd had to stomach over the past few days. He needed a break, to clear his head.
He slipped into Totòâs kitchen, feeling relieved, and flopped on to his stool.
âCiao, Totò.â
âInspector! Whereâve you been hiding?â the cook yelled, coming up to him. Bordelli squeezed his arm to avoid his greasy hands.
âI was a little busy,â he said.
âIâm not surprised ⦠with that maniac at large!â said Totò, making a disgusted face. The inspector tried to change the subject.
âCook anything good today â¦? No, wait. Let me guess,â he said, sniffing the air. Totò looked at him defiantly. â Baccalà alia livornese? â Bordelli asked.
âBravo, Inspector! Except that itâs my own variation.â
âAnd youâve ruined it, Iâm sure ⦠And whatâve you got for the first course?â
âSpaghetti à la however I want it?
âAnd how do you want it?â
âDo you trust Totò?â
âAbsolutely.â
âAnd youâre right ⦠just one minute, Iâll be right back.â
Totò ran and stirred the contents of a big pot, filled five or six bowls with pasta, and set these down on the sill of the serving hatch.Then he dumped some spaghetti for the inspector into the boiling water and stirred for a good minute, humming Stai lontana da me 10 to himself. He then put the baccal à on a low flame and turned about suddenly, like a cowboy ready to draw his gun. After Casimiro, he was the shortest man Bordelli had ever seen.
While they waited for the pasta, they ate some toast and shrimp together. At a certain point Totò folded his arms on his chest and looked Bordelli straight in the eye.
âWhat do you say, Inspector? Are you going to catch that maniac or not?â
âIâm going to catch him, Totò, and soon.â
âLetâs hope so ⦠These disgusting things happen where I come from, too ⦠Right after the war some half-mad bloke killed the
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