Death in Sardinia by Marco Vichi Read Free Book Online Page B

the photographs of the girl that he’d found in the loan shark’s house, and tell them to track her down fast. The photos had been taken by Badalamenti with his fancy Leica, and Bordelli thought rather optimistically that it was a fair bet the girl lived in town. If they couldn’t find her, then they would have to start looking for her in the outlying province, and then in all of Italy. At any rate, it was a lead that deserved to be followed to the very end. He found the two officers standing in front of the Flying Squad office.
    ‘I want you to find this girl for me,’ Bordelli said, handing Tapinassi two of the photos of Marisa which he’d cut below the chin. The rest he kept under lock and key. Tapinassi looked at the photos and blushed so thoroughly his ears turned red.
    ‘Let me see,’ said Rinaldi, taking them out of his hand. When he saw the girl his eyes opened wide.
    ‘Blimey,’ he said. They looked like a couple of idiots. It was a good thing they were seeing only the censored photos, thought Bordelli, shaking his head. Standing shoulder to shoulder, the two policemen couldn’t take their eyes off them.
    ‘You’ll have all the time in the world to admire her. Take one photo each and don’t make any copies. I want only you two to look into this; you mustn’t tell anyone else. Understand?’
    ‘We’ll do our best, sir,’ said Rinaldi.
    ‘Try the schools, too, but nobody must know why we’re looking for her. Invent some excuse, if you have to.’
    ‘Why are we looking for her, Inspector?’ Tapinassi asked.
    ‘You don’t need to know, for now. When you find her, don’t approach her, don’t do anything at all … Just report to me at once.’
    ‘Very well, sir,’ said Tapinassi, eyeing the photos in his colleague’s hand. Bordelli slapped him on the back.
    ‘But don’t take a week. We’re not in New York, after all,’ he said.
    ‘We’ll manage, sir,’ said Rinaldi, standing to attention.
    ‘Maximum discretion,’ the inspector reiterated, heading for the door. Before leaving he dropped into his office, for no real reason. Maybe just to have a look at the room. Every time he went in there he felt at home, and this worried him. It was very hot. He touched the radiators; they were boiling, at public expense. He put an unlit cigarette between his lips and left the matches on the desk. Leaving the room, he headed for the stairs, determined to smoke only if he ran into someone with a light.
    He crossed the courtyard, pulling his trench coat tightly round his body. Passing Mugnai’s booth, he waved a greeting. Mugnai bolted out and came up to him.
    ‘Need a light, Inspector?’
    Bordelli sighed and lit the cigarette on Mugnai’s match. His strategy hadn’t worked, but in truth this was what he’d wanted.
    Otherwise he wouldn’t have gone around the station with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.
    ‘Thanks,’ he said, blowing the smoke far away.
    ‘You can keep ’em,’ Mugnai said, slipping the box of matches into the inspector’s coat pocket.
    It was hopeless. If he wanted to quit smoking, he had to rely on himself.
    ‘I’ll buy you another box,’ Bordelli said.
    ‘No need, Inspector. I don’t smoke.’
    ‘How did you manage to quit?’
    ‘I never started.’
    ‘I think you and Piras would get on well together,’ Bordelli said.
    ‘How’s he doing, now that you mention him?’ Mugnai asked.
    ‘He can’t wait to get back to hunting down killers.’
    ‘Give him my best.’
    ‘Will do.’
    Bordelli got into his Beetle and drove away, imagining Piras with his crutches and his father Gavino with only one arm.
    He glanced at his watch. Just three o’clock. Before returning to Badalamenti’s apartment he wanted to drop in on Diotivede.
    He turned on to the Viali and tried to smoke the cigarette as slowly as possible, to make it last. Driving past the Fortezza da Basso he saw a man in the distance talking to a little girl near the pond in the garden. At first he paid no