The Patience of the Spider (4 page)

No news? asked Montalbano.

The geologist threw his hands up disconsolately.

Id like to have a word with you, the inspector went on.
Could we go outside?

For no apparent reason he felt like he couldnt breathe. It
was stuffy in the living room, and not a ray of light filtered in,
despite two big French doors. Mistretta hesitated, then turned
to Fazio.

If somebody rings the bell upstairs, could you please let
me know?

Of course, said Fazio.

They went out. The garden surrounding the villa was in a
state of utter abandon, now little more than a field of wild,
yellowing plants.

This way, said the geologist.

He led the inspector to a hemicycle of wooden benches at
the center of a kind of orderly, well-tended oasis of green.

This is where Susanna comes to stu

Unable to continue, he collapsed onto a bench. The inspector
sat down beside him and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Do you smoke?

What had Dr. Strazzera advised him to do? Try to stop
smoking, if possible.

At the moment, it was not possible.

Id stopped, but in these circumstances . . .said Mistretta.

You see, dear distinguished Dr. Strazzera? Sometimes one
simply cannot do without it.

The inspector held out a cigarette for him and then lit it.
They smoked awhile in silence, then Montalbano asked:

Is your wife sick?

Shes dying.

Does she know whats happened?

No. Shes on tranquilizers and sedatives. My brother
Carlo, whos a doctor, spent last night with her. He just left, in
fact. But . . .

But?

But my wife, even in this induced state of sleep, keeps calling
for Susanna, as if she mysteriously understands that something...

The inspector felt himself sweating. How was he ever going
to talk to the man about his daughters kidnapping when
his wife was dying? The only way, perhaps, was to adopt an
official, bureaucratic tone, the kind of tone that precludes, by
its very nature, any form of humanity.

Mr. Mistretta, I have to inform those in charge about the
kidnapping. The judge, the commissioner, my colleagues in
Montelusa ...And you can rest assured that the news will also
reach the ears of some newsman who will race here with the
inevitable camera crew ...The reason Im stalling is that I
want to be absolutely certain.

Certain of what?

That its really a kidnapping were dealing with.

3

The geologist gave him a puzzled look.
What else could it be?
Let me first say that I have no choice but to make con

jectures, however unpleasant.
I understand.
One question. Does your wife need a lot of care?
Nonstop, day and night.
Who looks after her?
Susanna and I take turns.
How long has she been in this condition?
Things got worse about six months ago.
Is it possible that after being frayed for so long, Susannas

nerves finally gave out?
What are you trying to say?
Isnt it possible that, seeing her mother always in that state,

your daughter got so worn out from all the sleepless nights and
study that she ran away of her own free will from what had become
an unbearable situation?

The reply didnt come immediately.

Thats out of the question. Susanna is strong and generous.
She would never do that to me. Never. And anyway, where
would she hide?

Did she have any money on her?
I dunno, maybe thirty euros, at the most.
Doesnt she have any relatives or friends shes particularly

fond of?

Theres only my brother, whom she would go visit at his
house, but not very often. And she would meet with that boy
who helped me in my search. Theyd often go to the movies
together or out for pizza. But theres nobody else she was
close to.

What about the girl she was studying with?
Shes just a study companion, I think.
Now they came to the difficult part, and the inspector had

to be careful not to further offend this wounded man with his
questions. He took a deep breath. The morning air was, in
spite of everything, sweet and fragrant.

Listen, your daughters boyfriend ...whats his name?
Francesco. Francesco Lipari.
Did Susan get along well with Francesco?
As far as I could tell, yes, basically.
What do you mean by basically?
I mean that, sometimes, I would hear her arguing with

him over the telephone ...But just silly stuff, the kind of
things young lovers quarrel about.
You dont think that Susanna perhaps met someone who
secretly lured her, persuading her to

To go with him, you mean? Inspector, Susanna has always
been a sincere, forthright girl. If shed started up a relationship
with someone else, she would certainly have told
Francesco and broken off with him.

So youre sure were dealing with a kidnapping.

Unfortunately, yes.
Fazio suddenly appeared in the doorway of the villa.
What is it? asked the geologist.
I heard the bell ring upstairs.
Mistretta rushed inside. Montalbano followed slowly be

hind him, lost in thought. He went back into the living room
and sat down in the empty armchair in front of the telephone.
Poor guy, said Fazio. I feel sorry for this Mistretta, I really
do.
Doesnt it seem strange to you that the kidnappers

havent called yet? Its almost ten oclock.
I dont know much about kidnappings, said Fazio.
Me neither. And Mimoesnt either.
Speak of the devil. At that very moment Mimugello

walked in.
We didnt find anything. What do we do now?
Inform everyone were supposed to inform about the

kidnapping. Give me Susannas boyfriends address, and the
address of the girl she was studying with.
What are you going to do? asked Mims he was writing
these things down on a piece of paper.
As soon as he returns, Im going to say goodbye to Mr.
Mistretta and go to the office.
But arent you convalescing? asked MimI only had
you come here to give advice, not to
And do you feel confident leaving the station in

Catarellas hands?
There was no answer, only a troubled silence.
If the kidnappers get in touch soon, as Im hoping theyll

do, let me know at once, the inspector said in a decisive tone.

Why are you hoping the kidnappers get in touch soon?
asked Fazio.
Before answering, the inspector read the piece of paper
Augello had handed to him, then put it in his pocket.

Because that way well know that they kidnapped her for
money. Lets be frank. A girl like Susanna gets kidnapped for
one of two reasons: for money or for rape. Gallo told me shes
a very attractive girl. In the latter case, the chances shed be
killed after being raped are very high.

A chill. In the silence they could hear the geologists shuffling
footsteps as he approached. He looked at Augello.

Did you find any...?

Mimhook his head.

Mistretta staggered as though dizzy, but Mimuickly
steadied him.
But why did they do it? Why?! he said, burying his face
in his hands.

Why? said Augello, hoping to console him with words.
Youll see, theyll probably demand a ransom, the judge very
probably will allow you to pay, and

What will I pay with? How can I pay? the man cried in
desperation. Doesnt everyone know that we get by on my
pension? And that the only thing we own is this house?

Montalbano was standing near Fazio. He heard him whisper
under his breath:
Matre santa! So ...

He had Gallo drop him off at Susannas study-companions
place. The girl went by the name of Tina Lofaro and lived on

the towns main street in a three-storey building that, like
most of the buildings in the center of town, was rather old. As
the inspector was about to ring the intercom, the front door
opened and out came a woman of about fifty, trailing an empty
shopping cart behind her.

Please leave the door open, Montalbano said to her.

The woman hesitated a moment, reaching behind her
with one arm to hold the door open, torn between courtesy
and caution. But after looking him up and down, she made up
her mind and walked away. The inspector went in and closed
the door behind him. There was no elevator. On the mailboxes,
the Lofaro familys residence corresponded to apartment
number six, and since there were two flats per floor, that
meant that he would have to climb up three flights of stairs.
He had purposely avoided letting them know he was coming.
He knew from experience that an unannounced visit from a
man of the law always provokes at least a little unease, even in
the most honest of people, who immediately wonder: What
have I done wrong? Because all honest people believe that at
one time or another they have done something wrong, perhaps
without even realizing, whereas dishonest people are always
convinced theyve acted honestly. Therefore all of them,
honest and dishonest, feel uneasy. And this helps one find the
chinks in everyones armor.

The inspector thus hoped, when ringing the doorbell, that
Tina herself would answer. Caught by surprise, the girl would
certainly reveal whether or not Susanna had told her some little
secret that might help the investigation.

The door opened, and there appeared a short, homely girl
of about twenty, dark as a crow, chubby and wearing thick

eyeglasses. Tina, surely. The element of surprise worked. But

in reverse.

Im Inspector Mon

talbano! said Tina, a big smile cleaving her face from
ear to ear. Wow! How cool! I never thought Id meet you!
Cool! Im so excited Im starting to sweat! Im so happy!

Montalbano couldnt move. He looked like hed turned
into a puppet without strings. To his bewilderment, he noticed
a strange phenomenon. The girl before him had started
to evaporate. A cloud of steam was enveloping her. Tina was
melting like a pat of butter in the summer sun. The girl then
extended a sweaty hand, grabbed the inspector by the wrist,
pulled him inside, and closed the door. Then she stood there
in front of him, speechless and ecstatic, face red as a ripe watermelon,
hands joined in prayer, eyes glistening. For a brief
moment, Montalbano felt exactly like the Blessed Virgin of
Pompeii.

I would like he ventured.

Of course! Im so sorry! Come! said Tina, rousing herself
from her ecstasy and leading him into the inevitable sitting
room. Boy, the moment I saw you there before me in
the flesh, I nearly fainted! How are you? Have you recovered?
This is amazing! I always see you when you appear on TV, you
know. And I read a lot of detective novels, I just love them, but
you, Inspector, youre a lot better than Maigret, or Poirot,
or...You want a coffee?

Who? asked Montalbano, dazed.

Since the girl had spoken almost without interruption,
the inspector had heard only something like Uwanakafi,

thinking this might be the protagonist detective of some African

writer with whom he was unfamiliar.

So, will you have some coffee?

Maybe it was just the thing.

Yes, if it isnt a bother...

Not at all! Mama went out shopping about five minutes
ago and Im all alone because the housekeepers not coming
today, but I can have it ready for you in a jiffy!

She disappeared. So they were alone in the house? The inspector
got worried. This girl was capable of anything. From
the kitchen he heard a clinking of demitasses and saucers and
a sort of low murmur. Who was she talking to, since shed said
there was nobody else in the house? Herself? He got up and
went out of the living room. The kitchen was the second door
on the left. He approached slowly, on tiptoe. Tina was talking
in a low voice on her cell phone.

. . . hes here, I tell you! Im not kidding! All of a sudden,
there he was, right in front of me! If you can get here within
ten minutes, hell still be here, I promise. Oh and, listen, Sandra,
be sure to tell Manuela, Im sure shell want to come, too.
And bring a camera, so we can all take our pictures with him.

Montalbano retraced his steps. This was all he needed!
Three twenty-year-old girls attacking him like some rock star!
He decided he would shake free of Tina in less than ten minutes.
He drank the coffee boiling hot, scalding his lips, and began
his questioning. But the element of surprise hadnt
worked, and the inspector gained little or nothing from the
conversation.

No, I wouldnt say friends as in real friends. We met at the

university, and when we found out we both lived in Vig, we
decided to study together for our first exam, and now for the
last month or so shes been coming to my house every evening
from five to eight . . .

Yes, I think shes very fond of Francesco . . .

No, she never mentioned any other boys to me . . .

No, she never said anything to me about any other guys
coming on to her...

Susanna is generous and sincere, but I wouldnt say shes
very expansive. She tends to hold everything inside . . .

No, yesterday she went away like every other day. And
we agreed to meet again today at five . . .

Lately shes been the same as usual. Her mothers health
has been a constant worry. Normally around seven we would
take a break from our study, and Susanna would phone home
and find out how her mother was doing...Yes, she did the
same yesterday . . .

Inspector, I really dont think she was kidnapped. I feel
pretty good about that. Oh God, its so cool being interrogated
by you! You want to know what I think? Jesus, this is so fabulous!
The inspector wants to know what I think! Okay, I think
Susanna went away of her own accord and will come back in a
few days. She probably needed a little rest and couldnt handle
watching her mother die that way, day after day, night after
night . . .

What, are you leaving already? Dont you want to interrogate
me some more? Couldnt you wait another five minutes,
so we can take our picture together? Arent you going to
summon me down to the station? Youre not?