The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri Read Free Book Online

You really are a born cop.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Because that’s exactly the point Manuele’s not convinced about. In other words, he didn’t see the chick make any signal, but the car did stop. And that’s not all: although the car was moving along at a pretty good clip, Manuele had the impression the door was already open when it put on the brakes to pick her up. But Manuele didn’t think to take down the license number—there wasn’t any reason.”
    “Right. And what can you tell me about the man in the BMW, Luparello?”
    “Not much. He wore glasses, and he never took his jacket off to fuck, even though it was hot as hell. But there’s one point where Milly’s story and Carmen’s don’t jibe. Milly says that when the car arrived, it looked like the man had a tie or a black ascot around his neck; Carmen maintains that when she saw him, he had his shirt unbuttoned and that was all. But that seems like an unimportant detail to me, since Luparello could have taken off the tie while he was fucking. Maybe it bothered him.”
    “His tie but not his jacket? But that’s not unimportant, Gegè, because no tie or ascot was found inside the car.”
    “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it fell out onto the sand when the girl got out.”
    “Jacomuzzi’s men combed the area and didn’t find anything.”
    They stood there in silence, thoughtful.
    “Maybe there’s another explanation for what Milly saw,” Gegè suddenly said. “Maybe it was never a question of ties or ascots. Maybe the man still had his seat belt on—after all, they’d just driven along the bed of the Canneto, with all its rocks and sticks—and he took it off when the girl climbed onto his lap, since the seat belt would surely have been a bother.”
    “It’s possible.”
    “I’ve told you everything I was able to find out about this, Salvù. And I tell you in my own interest. Because for a big cheese like Luparello to come and croak at the Pasture isn’t good for business. Now everybody’s eyes are gonna be on it, so the sooner you finish your investigation, the better. After a couple of days people forget, and we can all go back to work in peace. Can I go now? These are peak hours at the Pasture.”
    “Wait. What’s your opinion of the whole thing?”
    “Me? You’re the cop. But just to make you happy, I will say that the whole thing stinks to me. Let’s imagine the girl is a high-class whore, a foreigner. Are you gonna tell me Luparello doesn’t have a place to take her?”
    “Gegè, do you know what a perversion is?”
    “You’re asking me? I could tell you a few things that would make you puke on my shoes. I know what you’re going to say, that they came to the Pasture because they thought it would make it more erotic. And that does happen sometimes. Did you know that one night a judge showed up with his bodyguards?”
    “Really? Who was it?”
    “Judge Cosentino. See, I can even tell you the name. The evening before he was kicked out of office, he came to the Pasture with an escort car, picked up a transvestite, and had sex with him.”
    “What did the bodyguards do?”
    “They went for a long walk on the beach. But to get back to the subject: Cosentino knew he was a marked man and decided to have a little fun. But what interest could Luparello have had? He wasn’t that kind of guy. Everybody knows he liked the ladies, but he was always careful never to let anyone see him. And where is the woman who could make him risk everything he had and everything he stood for just to get laid? I don’t buy it, Salvù.”
    “Go on.”
    “If we suppose, on the other hand, that the chick was not a whore, then I really don’t know. It’s even less likely—downright impossible—they’d let themselves be seen at the Pasture. Also, the car was driven by the girl, that much is certain. Aside from the fact that no one would ever trust a whore with a car like that, that lady must have been something to strike fear in a