the kidnap victims father. Mr. Mistretta appeared
on the screen.
The moment the man began to speak, Montalbano was
flabbergasted. In front of a television camera, some people lose
their train of thought, stutter, go cross-eyed, sweat, say stupid
thingshe himself belonged to this unhappy category
whereas others remain perfectly normal, speaking and moving
the way they usually do. Then there is a third category, the
chosen few who become more lucid and clear when a camera
is watching. Mistretta belonged to the latter group. He said
that whoever had kidnapped his daughter, Susanna, had made a
mistake. Whatever sum they might ask for her liberation, the
family was in no position to raise any money. The kidnappers
should better inform themselves, he said. The only solution
was to set Susanna free, immediately. If, however, there was
something else the kidnappers wantedthough he, Mistretta,
could not imagine what this might bethey should make
their demands at once. He would do the impossible to satisfy
them.
That was all. His voice was firm, his eyes dry. Troubled,
yes, but not afraid. With this declaration, the geologist won
the esteem and respect of all who had heard him.
Hes a real man, this Mistretta, said Livia.
The anchorman reappeared, saying he would report the rest
of the news after the stations commentary on what was clearly
the biggest story of the day. The purse-lipped face of Tele-
Vigs main editorialist, Pippo Ragonese, appeared on the
screen. He started by saying that it was well-known that retired
geologist Salvatore Mistretta was of modest means, even though
his wife, now gravely ill, had once been wealthy before losing
everything in a reversal of fortune. Therefore, as the girls poor
father had said in his appeal, if the purpose of this kidnapping
was moneyand he, Ragonese, certainly didnt want to conjecture
as to what other terrible motive might be behind it
then it had been a tragic mistake. Now who was most likely not
to know that Mistretta and his family had been living in dignified
poverty? Only foreigners, third worlders, clearly ill-
informed. For there was no denying that ever since all these
illegal immigrants had been landing on these shores in what was
a veritable invasion, crime rates had soared, surpassing previous
high-water marks. What were local governments waiting for to
strictly apply an already existing law? Personally, however, he
did take comfort in one aspect of this kidnapping case. The investigation
had been entrusted to the able Inspector Filippo
Minutolo of Montelusa Police and not to so-called Inspector
Salvo Montalbano, known more for his questionable brainstorms
and his unorthodox and at times downright subversive
opinions, than for his ability to solve the cases assigned to him.
And on that note, Ragonese wished them all a good night.
What a bastard! said Livia, turning off the TV.
Montalbano chose not to open his mouth. By now the
things Ragonese said about him had no effect on him. The
telephone rang. It was Gallo.
I just finished, Chief. There was only one house that
didnt have anyone in it, but it seemed like it hadnt been lived
in for a while. And everyone gave the same answer: Nobody
knows Susanna and they didnt see any girl pass by on a motorbike
last night. But one lady did say that the fact she didnt
see anything didnt necessarily mean that a girl on a motorbike
didnt pass by.
Why are you telling me this?
Because those houses have all got their gardens and
kitchens in back, not on the roadside.
He hung up. The mild disappointment made him feel
tremendously weary.
What do you say, shall we go to bed?
All right, said Livia, but why havent you told me anything
about this kidnapping?
Because you didnt give me the chance, he was about to say,
but held himself back in time. Those words would surely have
triggered a furious spat. He merely gave a vague shrug.
Is
on the screen.
The moment the man began to speak, Montalbano was
flabbergasted. In front of a television camera, some people lose
their train of thought, stutter, go cross-eyed, sweat, say stupid
thingshe himself belonged to this unhappy category
whereas others remain perfectly normal, speaking and moving
the way they usually do. Then there is a third category, the
chosen few who become more lucid and clear when a camera
is watching. Mistretta belonged to the latter group. He said
that whoever had kidnapped his daughter, Susanna, had made a
mistake. Whatever sum they might ask for her liberation, the
family was in no position to raise any money. The kidnappers
should better inform themselves, he said. The only solution
was to set Susanna free, immediately. If, however, there was
something else the kidnappers wantedthough he, Mistretta,
could not imagine what this might bethey should make
their demands at once. He would do the impossible to satisfy
them.
That was all. His voice was firm, his eyes dry. Troubled,
yes, but not afraid. With this declaration, the geologist won
the esteem and respect of all who had heard him.
Hes a real man, this Mistretta, said Livia.
The anchorman reappeared, saying he would report the rest
of the news after the stations commentary on what was clearly
the biggest story of the day. The purse-lipped face of Tele-
Vigs main editorialist, Pippo Ragonese, appeared on the
screen. He started by saying that it was well-known that retired
geologist Salvatore Mistretta was of modest means, even though
his wife, now gravely ill, had once been wealthy before losing
everything in a reversal of fortune. Therefore, as the girls poor
father had said in his appeal, if the purpose of this kidnapping
was moneyand he, Ragonese, certainly didnt want to conjecture
as to what other terrible motive might be behind it
then it had been a tragic mistake. Now who was most likely not
to know that Mistretta and his family had been living in dignified
poverty? Only foreigners, third worlders, clearly ill-
informed. For there was no denying that ever since all these
illegal immigrants had been landing on these shores in what was
a veritable invasion, crime rates had soared, surpassing previous
high-water marks. What were local governments waiting for to
strictly apply an already existing law? Personally, however, he
did take comfort in one aspect of this kidnapping case. The investigation
had been entrusted to the able Inspector Filippo
Minutolo of Montelusa Police and not to so-called Inspector
Salvo Montalbano, known more for his questionable brainstorms
and his unorthodox and at times downright subversive
opinions, than for his ability to solve the cases assigned to him.
And on that note, Ragonese wished them all a good night.
What a bastard! said Livia, turning off the TV.
Montalbano chose not to open his mouth. By now the
things Ragonese said about him had no effect on him. The
telephone rang. It was Gallo.
I just finished, Chief. There was only one house that
didnt have anyone in it, but it seemed like it hadnt been lived
in for a while. And everyone gave the same answer: Nobody
knows Susanna and they didnt see any girl pass by on a motorbike
last night. But one lady did say that the fact she didnt
see anything didnt necessarily mean that a girl on a motorbike
didnt pass by.
Why are you telling me this?
Because those houses have all got their gardens and
kitchens in back, not on the roadside.
He hung up. The mild disappointment made him feel
tremendously weary.
What do you say, shall we go to bed?
All right, said Livia, but why havent you told me anything
about this kidnapping?
Because you didnt give me the chance, he was about to say,
but held himself back in time. Those words would surely have
triggered a furious spat. He merely gave a vague shrug.
Is
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