The Potter's Field

“So it seems. And in Balduccio’s eyes, that’s a serious offense. And intolerable. Giovanni, despite his father’s treason, had always been treated like one of the family, to the point that not only did Balduccio not disown him, he actually helped him out when he was in Colombia. So Giovanni is a traitor to his own blood. He has to die. You with me so far?”

“Yes. Go on.”

“So Don Balduccio hatches an ingenious plan. He lets Giovanni leave for Gioia Tauro with Dolores, then has him kidnapped, brought back to Vigàta, killed, chopped up, and put in a garbage bag. And he even tells his men to arrange things so that the body isn’t discovered for some time. That way everyone will think that Giovanni boarded his ship. The plan is executed without a hitch, even though Balduccio in the meantime ends up in a hospital. Giovanni’s wife, however, some two months after her husband sets sail, starts to get suspicious and comes and tells us about it.”

“But why all the drama of cutting him up into pieces and burying them at ’u critaru?”

“Have you ever read the Gospels, Fazio?”

“Never, Chief.”

“Bad.”

And he explained the whole story to him. When he had finished, Fazio was looking at him, open-mouthed.

“So it’s as if Don Balduccio had left his signature!”

“Right. That’s why it all makes sense, don’t you think?”

“I sure do. So what do we do now?”

“We take a little time.”

“And what about Signora Dolores?”

“For the moment there’s no point in telling her anything more . . . It would only make her suffer and wouldn’t help her at all. The body’s in such bad shape she wouldn’t even be able to identify it.”

“Chief, I was just thinking that whoever wrote the anonymous letter to the Antimafia office knew everything.”

“Yeah. When the time is right we’ll rub Musante’s nose in it, for having dismissed that letter too quickly. But before we make any moves, give me a day to think things over.”

“Whatever you say, Chief. What are you doing now, coming to the office?”

“Yes, I want to pick up my car and go home.”

Fazio parked, and they got out.

“Chief, could I come into your office for a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you about something,” said Fazio, who hadn’t opened his mouth the whole way back to the station.

“Of course.”

“Ahh Chief Chief !” said Catarella, racing out of his closet, “I gots a litter f’yiz I’s asposta give yiz poissonally in poisson.”

Looking around himself with a conspiratorial air, he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to the inspector.

“Who gave it to you?”

“Isspector Augello did. An’ he said I’s asposta put it in yer hand the minnit I sawr yiz.”

“And where is he?”

“ ’E stepped out momentaneously, Chief, but ’e says ’e’ll be back.”

Montalbano pushed on towards his office, with Fazio following behind.

“Have a seat, Fazio, while I see what Mimì wants.”

The envelope was open. There were only a few lines.

Dear Salvo,

This is to remind you that you promised to let me know as soon as possible whether or not you plan to assign me the only important case on our hands at the moment.

Mimì

He handed the note to Fazio, who read it and gave it back without saying a word.

“What do you make of it?”

“Chief, I already told you I don’t think it’s a good idea to assign a case like this to Inspector Augello. But you’re the one who gives the orders around here.”

Montalbano put the note and envelope in his jacket pocket.

“What did you want to tell me?”

“Chief, would you please explain to me what it is you need to think over?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You said you needed a day to think things over with regard to Giovanni Alfano.”

“So?”

“What’s to think over? It all seems so clear to me!”

“You mean it seems clear to you that Giovanni Alfano was killed on orders from Balduccio?”

“Matre santa, Chief, you said it yourself!”

“I said that the facts that we have come to know lead us inevitably to this conclusion.”

“Why, could there be any other conclusion?”

“Why not?”

“But what are your doubts based on?”

“I’ll give you an example, okay? Don’t you think there’s a certain inconsistency in Balduccio’s way of going about things?”

“And what would that be?”

“Can you explain to me why Balduccio would blithely let Giovanni Alfano leave for Gioia Tauro? The only possible answer is that he didn’t want him killed here in Vigàta, where he would have almost immediately been implicated in our investigation, but far from his territory. And that’s probably what happened.”

“So where’s the inconsistency?”

“The inconsistency is in bringing the body back here—that is, back into his own territory.”

“But he couldn’t have done otherwise, Chief!”

“Why not?”

“Because he had to set an example, so that other potential traitors in the family would think twice about betraying him!”

“Right. But then he might as well have him killed here and be done with it!”

Fazio remained a little doubtful.