The Age of Doubt by Andrea Camilleri Read Free Book Online Page B

crew and—”
    “What do you mean, ‘making the rounds’?”
    “Maurilio said she would take one sailor, enjoy him for a week, then move on to another. When she’d finished the round, she would start over. Except that eventually she settled on Captain Sperlì. The husband was aware of all this commotion but never said anything. He didn’t give a damn. To the point that on certain nights he would go and sleep in a vacant cabin.”
    “Maurilio told you all this?”
    “Yessir.”
    “Did the lady make it with him too?”
    “Yessir.”
    “Isn’t it possible Maurilio is bad-mouthing the owner because he wants exclusive rights to her?”
    “I really don’t know, Chief. On the other hand, I’m convinced Maurilio’s got it in for her because she’s always on his case, going down to the engine room and making fun of him, telling him she knows the engines better than he does, and chewing him out for the slightest things.”
    “What about the rest of the crew?”
    “Like Sperlì, Maurilio, who’s Spanish, has always been on the
Vanna
, ever since Giovannini first bought it. The three current sailors were hired after Sperlì dissolved the previous crew, because they were a constant reminder of the lady’s earlier adventures.”
    “Let me get this straight. He dismissed everyone but not Maurilio?”
    “That’s right. Because Maurilio is protected.”
    “By whom?”
    “By Giovannini’s will, which stipulates that Maurilio can stay on the
Vanna
for as long as he feels like it.”
    “And how does Maurilio explain this clause?”
    “He doesn’t. He says he was very close to Giovannini.”
    “But not so close that he didn’t let the lady take him to bed.”
    Fazio threw his hands up.
    “Wait. And who are the other three?” Montalbano continued.
    Fazio had to look again at his piece of paper.
    “Ahmed Shaikiri, a North African, twenty-eight years old; Stefano Ricca, from Viareggio, thirty-two years old; and Mario Digiulio, from Palermo . . .”
    Digiulio! That was the same name Vanna had claimed was her own! Was it a coincidence? Better check.
    “Stop!” said the inspector. “It’s too late now, but tomorrow morning I want you to go get this Digiulio and bring him here.”
    Fazio gave him a confused look.
    “Why, wha’d he do?”
    “Nothing. I just want to get to know him better. Find whatever excuse you can think of, but I want him here at the station at nine o’clock tomorrow.”

    He was about to get up and go home to Marinella when the telephone rang.
    “Chief, ’at’d be a lady e’en tho’ she gotta man’s name, says she’s called Giovannino an’ she wantsa talk t’ yiz poissonally in poisson.”
    “Let her in.”
    It was Livia Giovannini, the owner of the yacht. She came in with a big smile on her face. She was in an evening dress and looked quite elegant.
    “Inspector, forgive me for disturbing you.”
    “Not at all, signora. Please sit down.”
    “I was a little disoriented the other morning when we met, and there was something I forgot to ask you. May I do so now?”
    She was being more polite than the Chinese. It was obviously an act.
    “Of course.”
    “How did you know I had a niece?”
    She must have racked her brains trying to figure it out. She must have asked Sperlì for his advice and decided in the end to ask the inspector directly. Which meant that the whole business of the pseudoniece was important. But why?
    “The other morning, as I left for work, it was raining cats and dogs and the seaside road into Vigàta collapsed,” Montalbano began.
    And he told her the whole story.
    “Did she say anything about me?”
    “All she told me was your husband’s name, but not his last name. Oh, and, come to think of it, she also added that you’re very rich and like to travel the seas. And that’s about it.”
    The lady seemed reassured.
    “Well, that’s a relief!”
    “Why?”
    “Because sometimes the poor thing isn’t really all there, and so she talks and talks