baskets of eggs on top, as
well as four cane chairs, a sideboard with a phone, a refrigerator,
and a small gas stove in the corner. Another corner was
hidden by a plastic curtain. The only thing that looked out of
place in the room was a small cot that served as a sofa. Everything
was sparkling clean. The young woman stared straight at
him but said nothing. A few moments later she finally asked,
in a whisper the inspector didnt know what to make of:
Did you come for eggs, or...?
What was or... supposed to mean? The only way to
find out was to see what would happen.
Or . . . Montalbano said.
The woman got up, cast a quick glance at the back room,
then closed the door. The inspector imagined there must be
someone, perhaps a sleeping child, in the other room, obviously
the bedroom. The woman sat down on the cot, took off
her shoes, and started unbuttoning her blouse.
Close the front door. If you want to wash, youll find
everything behind the curtain, she said to Montalbano.
So that was what shed meant by or... He raised his
hand.
Thats okay, he said.
8
The woman gave him a puzzled look.
Im Inspector Montalbano.
Madonna biniditta! she cried, turning red in the face and
jumping up like a spring.
Dont be afraid. Have you got a permit to sell eggs?
Yessir. Ill go get it.
Thats the important thing. You dont have to show it to
me, but Im sure my colleagues will ask to see it.
Why? What happened?
First answer me. Do you live here alone?
No, with my husband.
Where is he now?
In there.
Right there? In the other room? Montalbanos jaw dropped.
What? Her husband just sat there, cool as a cucumber, while his
wife fucked the first man to walk by?
Call him.
He cant come.
Why not?
He got no legs. They had to cut em off after the accident,
she said.
What accident?
Tractor flipped over when he was plowing the fields.
When did this happen?
Three years ago. Two years after we got married.
Let me see him.
The woman went and opened the door, then stood aside.
The inspector went in. His nose was immediately assailed by a
strong smell of medication. In a large double bed, a man lay
half asleep and breathing heavily. In one corner was a television
with an armchair in front of it. The top of the dressing
table was entirely covered by medicine bottles and syringes.
They also cut off is left hand, the woman said softly.
Hes in terrible pain, day and night.
Why dont you put him in a hospital?
Because I can take better care of him. The problem is
the medications cost so much and I dont want him to go
without em. Id sell my own eyes if I had to. Thats why I receive
men here. Dr. Mistretta told me to give him a shot
when the pain gets too bad. Just an hour ago he was crying
like a baby, asking me to kill him. He wanted to die. So I gave
him a shot.
Montalbano looked over at the dresser. Morphine.
Lets go back in the other room.
They went back in the dining room.
Do you know that a girl has been kidnapped?
Yessir. I seen it on TV.
Have you noticed anything unusual around here the last
few days?
Nothing.
Are you sure?
The woman hesitated.
The other night ...but it was probably nothing.
Tell me anyway.
The other night I was lying awake in bed and I heard a
car drive up...I thought maybe it was someone coming to
see me, so I got up.
You receive clients even at night?
Yessir. But theyre nice men, respectable, and so they dont
want anybody to see em during the day. But they always call
before they come. Thats why I was surprised this car came,
cause nobodyd called. But then the car pulled up here and
turned around, cause theres no room anywhere else.
This poor woman and her wretched, bedridden husband
couldnt possibly have anything to do with the kidnapping.
Their house, moreover, was out in the open and heavily frequented
by outsiders day and night.
Listen, said Montalbano, near the spot where we left
the car, we found
well as four cane chairs, a sideboard with a phone, a refrigerator,
and a small gas stove in the corner. Another corner was
hidden by a plastic curtain. The only thing that looked out of
place in the room was a small cot that served as a sofa. Everything
was sparkling clean. The young woman stared straight at
him but said nothing. A few moments later she finally asked,
in a whisper the inspector didnt know what to make of:
Did you come for eggs, or...?
What was or... supposed to mean? The only way to
find out was to see what would happen.
Or . . . Montalbano said.
The woman got up, cast a quick glance at the back room,
then closed the door. The inspector imagined there must be
someone, perhaps a sleeping child, in the other room, obviously
the bedroom. The woman sat down on the cot, took off
her shoes, and started unbuttoning her blouse.
Close the front door. If you want to wash, youll find
everything behind the curtain, she said to Montalbano.
So that was what shed meant by or... He raised his
hand.
Thats okay, he said.
8
The woman gave him a puzzled look.
Im Inspector Montalbano.
Madonna biniditta! she cried, turning red in the face and
jumping up like a spring.
Dont be afraid. Have you got a permit to sell eggs?
Yessir. Ill go get it.
Thats the important thing. You dont have to show it to
me, but Im sure my colleagues will ask to see it.
Why? What happened?
First answer me. Do you live here alone?
No, with my husband.
Where is he now?
In there.
Right there? In the other room? Montalbanos jaw dropped.
What? Her husband just sat there, cool as a cucumber, while his
wife fucked the first man to walk by?
Call him.
He cant come.
Why not?
He got no legs. They had to cut em off after the accident,
she said.
What accident?
Tractor flipped over when he was plowing the fields.
When did this happen?
Three years ago. Two years after we got married.
Let me see him.
The woman went and opened the door, then stood aside.
The inspector went in. His nose was immediately assailed by a
strong smell of medication. In a large double bed, a man lay
half asleep and breathing heavily. In one corner was a television
with an armchair in front of it. The top of the dressing
table was entirely covered by medicine bottles and syringes.
They also cut off is left hand, the woman said softly.
Hes in terrible pain, day and night.
Why dont you put him in a hospital?
Because I can take better care of him. The problem is
the medications cost so much and I dont want him to go
without em. Id sell my own eyes if I had to. Thats why I receive
men here. Dr. Mistretta told me to give him a shot
when the pain gets too bad. Just an hour ago he was crying
like a baby, asking me to kill him. He wanted to die. So I gave
him a shot.
Montalbano looked over at the dresser. Morphine.
Lets go back in the other room.
They went back in the dining room.
Do you know that a girl has been kidnapped?
Yessir. I seen it on TV.
Have you noticed anything unusual around here the last
few days?
Nothing.
Are you sure?
The woman hesitated.
The other night ...but it was probably nothing.
Tell me anyway.
The other night I was lying awake in bed and I heard a
car drive up...I thought maybe it was someone coming to
see me, so I got up.
You receive clients even at night?
Yessir. But theyre nice men, respectable, and so they dont
want anybody to see em during the day. But they always call
before they come. Thats why I was surprised this car came,
cause nobodyd called. But then the car pulled up here and
turned around, cause theres no room anywhere else.
This poor woman and her wretched, bedridden husband
couldnt possibly have anything to do with the kidnapping.
Their house, moreover, was out in the open and heavily frequented
by outsiders day and night.
Listen, said Montalbano, near the spot where we left
the car, we found
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