The Terra-Cotta Dog by Andrea Camilleri Read Free Book Online Page A

did not insist.
    â€œHello? Are you still there?” Misuraca’s peevish voice asked.
    â€œAt your service, Cavaliere.”
    â€œI just remembered something. Which is why I didn’t mention it when I gave my testimony.”
    â€œI have no reason to doubt you, Cavaliere. I’m all ears.”
    â€œA strange thing happened to me when I was almost in front of the supermarket, but at the time I didn’t pay it much mind. I was nervous and upset because these days there are certain bastards about who—”
    â€œPlease come to the point, Cavaliere.”
    If one let him speak, Misuraca was capable of taking his story back to the foundation of the first Fascist militias.
    â€œActually, I can’t tell you over the phone. I need to see you in person. It’s something really big, if I saw right.”
    The old man was considered someone who always told things straight, without overstating or understating the case.
    â€œIs it about the robbery at the supermarket?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œHave you already discussed it with anybody?”
    â€œNobody.”
    â€œDon’t forget: not a word to anyone.”
    â€œAre you trying to insult me? Silent as the grave, I am. I’ll be at your office early tomorrow morning.”
    â€œJust out of curiosity, Cavaliere: what were you doing, alone and upset, in your car at that hour of the night? You know, after a certain age, one must be careful.”
    â€œI was on my way back from Montelusa, from a meeting of the local party leaders. I’m not one of them, of course, but I wanted to be present. Nobody shuts his door on Gerlando Misuraca. Someone has to save our party’s honor. They can’t continue to govern alongside those bastard sons of bastard politicians and agree to an ordinance allowing all the sons of bitches who devoured our country out of jail! You must understand, Inspector—”
    â€œDid the meeting end late?”
    â€œIt went on till one o’clock in the morning. I wanted to continue, but everyone else was against it. They were all falling asleep. They’ve got no balls, those people.”
    â€œAnd how long did it take you to get back to Vigàta?”
    â€œHalf an hour. I drive slowly. But as I was saying—”
    â€œExcuse me, Cavaliere, I’m wanted on another line,” Montalbano cut him off. “See you tomorrow.”

5
    â€œWorse than criminals! Worse than murderers! That’s how those dirty sons of bitches treated us! Who do they think they are? The fuckers!”
    There was no calming down Fazio, who had just returned from Palermo. Germanà, Gallo, and Galluzzo served as his psalmodizing chorus, wildly gesticulating to convey the exceptional nature of the event.
    â€œTotal insanity! Total insanity!”
    â€œSimmer down, boys. Let’s proceed in orderly fashion,” Montalbano ordered, imposing his authority.
    Then, noticing that Galluzzo’s shirt and jacket no longer bore traces of the blood from his crushed nose, the inspector asked him:
    â€œDid you go home and change before coming here?”
    â€œHome? Home? Didn’t you hear what Fazio said? We’ve just come from Palermo, we came straight back! When we got to the Anti-Mafia Commission and turned over Tano the Greek, they took us one by one and put us in separate rooms. Since my nose was still hurting, I wanted to put a wet handkerchief over it. I’d been sitting there for half an hour, and still nobody’d shown up, so I opened the door and found an officer standing in front of me. Where you going? he says. I’m going to get a little water for my nose. You can’t leave, he says, go back inside. Get that, Inspector? I was under guard! Like I was Tano the Greek!”
    â€œDon’t mention that name and lower your voice!” Montalbano scolded him. “Nobody is supposed to know that we caught him! The first one who talks gets his ass kicked all the