obstacles and take
the first step.
What do you make of it?
Nothing. Chief, Im leaving. Are you coming by the
villa?
I dont think so, not tonight. Listen, did you tell Minutolo
about these phone calls?
No, Chief.
Why not?
Because I didnt think he would consider them important.
Whereas you, I thought, might find them interesting.
Fazio went out.
Good cop. Hed realized that although those two phone
calls might be incomprehensible, they had something in common.
Not much, but a sure thing. Indeed, both the former
Peruzzos employee and the old lady were advising Mr. and
Mrs. Mistretta, husband and wife, to change their attitudes.
The first advised the husband to be more flexible, while the
second suggested that the wife actually take the initiative, by
removing the obstacles. Maybe the investigationwhich so
far had been aimed entirely outwardsneeded to change direction.
That is, maybe they needed to look inside the kidnap
victims family. At this point it became important to speak
with Mrs. Mistretta. What sort of condition was she in, anyway?
On the other hand, how would he justify his questions if
the infirm woman was still unaware that her daughter had
been kidnapped? He needed some serious help from Dr. Mistretta.
He looked at his watch. Twenty minutes to eight.
He phoned Livia to tell her hed be late for dinner.
Not once can we eat dinner on time!
He took it in, didnt react. He didnt have time to squabble
with her.
The phone rang again. It was Gallo. Theyd decided to
keep Mimn the hospital for observation.
The inspector arrived at the first filling station on the road to
Fela at eight p.m. sharp, punctual as a Swiss watch. No sign,
however, of Dr. Mistretta. Ten minutes and two cigarettes
later, Montalbano started to worry. Doctors are never to be
trusted. When they give you an office appointment, they
make you wait an hour at the very least; when they give you
an appointment outside the office, they still show up an
hour late, with the excuse that a patient arrived at the last
minute.
Dr. Mistretta pulled up next to Montalbanos car in his
SUV, only half an hour late.
Sorry Im late, but at the last minute, a patient
I understand.
Will you please follow me?
They set out, the one in front and the other behind. And
they went on and on, the one in front and the other behind,
turning off the national road, then off the provincial road, taking
dirt road after dirt road and leaving these behind as well.
At last they arrived at an isolated spot in the open country,
pulling up at the gate to a villa quite a bit bigger than the doc-
tors geologist brothers house, and in better condition. It was
surrounded by a high wall. Did these Mistrettas feel somehow
diminished if they didnt live in country villas? The doctor
got out of his car, opened the gate, and drove in, signaling
Montalbano to do the same.
They parked in the garden, which was not as ill-tended as
the other one, but almost.
To the right stood another large, low structure, probably
the former stables. The doctor opened the front door to the
villa, turned on the lights, and showed the inspector into a
large salon.
Ill be right back. I have to go close the gate.
It was clear he had no family and lived alone. The salon
was handsomely furnished and well-maintained. One wall
was entirely covered by a rich collection of painted glass. Montalbano
felt spellbound as he studied the shrill colors and simultaneously
na and refined strokes. Another wall was half
covered with tall shelves containing not medical or scientific
books, as he would have imagined, but novels.
Forgive me, the doctor said upon returning. Can I get
you something?
No, thank you. Youre not married, are you, Doctor?
No, when I was young I never wanted to get married.
Then one day I realized that I was too old to do so.
And you live here alone?
The doctor smiled.
I know what you mean. This house
the first step.
What do you make of it?
Nothing. Chief, Im leaving. Are you coming by the
villa?
I dont think so, not tonight. Listen, did you tell Minutolo
about these phone calls?
No, Chief.
Why not?
Because I didnt think he would consider them important.
Whereas you, I thought, might find them interesting.
Fazio went out.
Good cop. Hed realized that although those two phone
calls might be incomprehensible, they had something in common.
Not much, but a sure thing. Indeed, both the former
Peruzzos employee and the old lady were advising Mr. and
Mrs. Mistretta, husband and wife, to change their attitudes.
The first advised the husband to be more flexible, while the
second suggested that the wife actually take the initiative, by
removing the obstacles. Maybe the investigationwhich so
far had been aimed entirely outwardsneeded to change direction.
That is, maybe they needed to look inside the kidnap
victims family. At this point it became important to speak
with Mrs. Mistretta. What sort of condition was she in, anyway?
On the other hand, how would he justify his questions if
the infirm woman was still unaware that her daughter had
been kidnapped? He needed some serious help from Dr. Mistretta.
He looked at his watch. Twenty minutes to eight.
He phoned Livia to tell her hed be late for dinner.
Not once can we eat dinner on time!
He took it in, didnt react. He didnt have time to squabble
with her.
The phone rang again. It was Gallo. Theyd decided to
keep Mimn the hospital for observation.
The inspector arrived at the first filling station on the road to
Fela at eight p.m. sharp, punctual as a Swiss watch. No sign,
however, of Dr. Mistretta. Ten minutes and two cigarettes
later, Montalbano started to worry. Doctors are never to be
trusted. When they give you an office appointment, they
make you wait an hour at the very least; when they give you
an appointment outside the office, they still show up an
hour late, with the excuse that a patient arrived at the last
minute.
Dr. Mistretta pulled up next to Montalbanos car in his
SUV, only half an hour late.
Sorry Im late, but at the last minute, a patient
I understand.
Will you please follow me?
They set out, the one in front and the other behind. And
they went on and on, the one in front and the other behind,
turning off the national road, then off the provincial road, taking
dirt road after dirt road and leaving these behind as well.
At last they arrived at an isolated spot in the open country,
pulling up at the gate to a villa quite a bit bigger than the doc-
tors geologist brothers house, and in better condition. It was
surrounded by a high wall. Did these Mistrettas feel somehow
diminished if they didnt live in country villas? The doctor
got out of his car, opened the gate, and drove in, signaling
Montalbano to do the same.
They parked in the garden, which was not as ill-tended as
the other one, but almost.
To the right stood another large, low structure, probably
the former stables. The doctor opened the front door to the
villa, turned on the lights, and showed the inspector into a
large salon.
Ill be right back. I have to go close the gate.
It was clear he had no family and lived alone. The salon
was handsomely furnished and well-maintained. One wall
was entirely covered by a rich collection of painted glass. Montalbano
felt spellbound as he studied the shrill colors and simultaneously
na and refined strokes. Another wall was half
covered with tall shelves containing not medical or scientific
books, as he would have imagined, but novels.
Forgive me, the doctor said upon returning. Can I get
you something?
No, thank you. Youre not married, are you, Doctor?
No, when I was young I never wanted to get married.
Then one day I realized that I was too old to do so.
And you live here alone?
The doctor smiled.
I know what you mean. This house
Similar Books
