'And where's Guido now?'
'He went to Montereale. He rang the mayor, who was very nice. He should be back at any moment.' 'Why didn't he try Salvo?'
'He said he couldn't bring himself to call the police over an invasion of cockroaches.'
Some fifteen minutes later Guido pulled up, followed by a car from the mayor's office carrying four pest-controllers, armed with cans of poison and brooms.
Livia took Laura and Bruno back to Marinella, while Guido stayed behind to coordinate the disinfestation and clean the house. Around four o'clock in the afternoon he, too, appeared at Marinella.
'They were coming out of that crack in the floor. We sprayed two whole cans down there, then cemented it up.'
'There wouldn't happen to be any more of those cracks, would there?' Laura asked, seeming unconvinced.
'Don't worry, we looked everywhere,' said Guido, settling the matter. 'It won't happen again. We can go home without any anxiety.'
'Why did they all come out like that?' Livia cut in.
'One of the pest-controllers explained that the house must have shifted imperceptibly during the night, causing the floor to crack. And the cockroaches, which were living
underground, came up because they were attracted by the smell of food or by us. It's hard to say which.'
The second invasion came on the fifth day. Not cockroaches, this time, but little rodents. When she got up that morning, Laura saw some fifteen of them, tiny little things, pretty even. But they fled out of the french windows to the terrace at high speed as soon as she moved. She found another two in the kitchen, munching bread crumbs. Unlike many other women, Laura was not terrified of mice. Guido summoned the mayor again, drove into Montereale, and came back with two mousetraps, a quarter of a pound of strong cheese, and a red cat, pleasant and patient — so patient, in fact, that he didn't take offence when Bruno tried immediately to gouge out one of his eyes.
'How can this be? First cockroaches climb out of the floor, and now mice,' Livia asked Montalbano, as soon as they'd got into bed.
With Livia lying naked beside him, Montalbano didn't feel like talking about rodents. 'Well, the house hadn't been lived in for a year...' was his vague reply.
'It probably should have been swept, cleaned and disinfected before Laura and her family moved in,' Livia concluded.
'I could do with some of that myself,' Montalbano suggested.
'Some of what?' asked Livia, confused. 'A thorough cleansing.' And he kissed her.
The third invasion came on the eighth day. Again it was Laura, the first to get up, who discovered it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one, jumped straight into the air and, without knowing how, landed on top of the kitchen table, on her feet, eyes squeezed shut. Then, when she felt it was safe enough, she opened her eyes, trembling and sweaty, and looked at the floor.
Where some thirty spiders were strolling blithely along, as if in a representative parade of the species: one was short and hairy, another had only a ball-like head on very long, wiry legs, a third was reddish and the size of a crab, a fourth was the spitting image of the dreaded black widow...
Laura was unfazed by cockroaches and unafraid of mice, but she flew into convulsions the moment she saw a spider. She suffered from 'arachnophobia', a difficult word, which in plain language means an irrational, uncontrollable fear of spiders.
So, with her hair standing on end, she let out an ear-splitting scream and fainted, falling off the table and on to the floor, hitting her head, which began to bleed.
Woken with a start, Guido bolted out of bed and rushed to his wife's rescue. But he didn't notice Ruggero— the cat — racing out of the kitchen, terrorized first by Laura's scream and then by the thud of her fall.
The upshot was that Guido found himself flying parallel to the ground until his head collided, like a bumper, with the fridge.
When Livia arrived at the usual time to go for a swim with her friends, she walked into what looked like a field hospital.
Laura and Guido's heads were wrapped in bandages, while Bruno's foot was taped up: when he'd got out of bed he'd knocked a glass of water off the bedside table. It had shattered on the floor, and he had walked over the slivers of glass. Nonplussed, Livia noticed that even Ruggero was limping — a result of his collision with Guido.
The now familiar squad of pest-controllers arrived, sent by the mayor, who by now had. become a friend. With Guido overseeing operations, Laura, who still seemed upset, said to Livia under her breath, 'This house doesn't like us.'
'Oh, come on! A house is a house. It doesn't have likes and dislikes.'
'I'm telling you, it doesn't like us.'
'Oh, please.'
'This house is cursed!' Laura insisted, her eyes sparkling as if she had a fever.
'Please, Laura, don't be silly. I know your nerves are frayed but—'
'I'm beginning to reconsider all those films I've seen about haunted houses full of spirits that come up from hell.'
'But that's all make-believe!'
'I bet I'm right. Just you wait and see.'
On the morning of the ninth day, it was raining hard. Livia and Laura went to the Montelusa museum; the major invited Guido to visit a salt mine and he took Bruno with him. That night it rained harder.
On the morning of the tenth day, it was still bucketing down. Laura phoned Livia to say she and Guido were taking Bruno to hospital — one of the cuts on his foot was oozing pus. Livia decided to take advantage of the circumstances to put Salvo's house in order. Late that evening the rain stopped, and everyone was convinced that the following day would be clear and hot, perfect for the beach.
TWO
Their prediction proved correct. The sea, no longer grey, had regained its usual colour. The sand, still wet, verged on light brown, but after two hours of sunlight it was gold. The water was perhaps a little cool, but in the heat, which was already intense at seven in the morning, it would be as warm as soup by midday. Which was the temperature Livia liked best. Montalbano couldn't stand it. It made him feel as if he was getting into a hot pool at a spa, and when he came out, he felt sluggish and drained.
Arriving at Pizzo at nine thirty, Livia was pleased to learn that it had been a normal morning so far, with no cockroaches, mice or spiders, or any new arrivals of, say, scorpions or vipers. Laura, Guido and Bruno were ready to go down to the beach.
As they were walking through the little gate on the terrace, they heard the telephone ring in the house. Guido, an engineer with a company that specialized in bridge-building, had been receiving phone calls over the past two
days concerning a problem he'd tried to explain to Mon-talbano with no success. 'You all go on. I'll join you in a minute’ he said. And he went into the house to answer the phone.
'I need to pee’ Laura said to Livia.
She went in too. Livia followed them. Because, for reasons unknown, the need to pee is contagious; all it takes is one person in a crowd needing to pee before everyone has to. She went into the other bathroom.
When each had attended to his or her business, they met once more on the terrace. Guido locked the french windows after they had filed out, closed the little gate behind them, grabbed the beach umbrella — which, being the man, he was obliged to carry — and they headed for the little stone staircase that led down to the beach. Before they began the descent, however, Laura looked around and said, 'Where's Bruno?'
'Maybe he started going down by himself’ said Livia.
'Oh, my God, he can't manage it on his own! I always have to hold his hand!' Laura said, a bit worried.
They leaned out and peered down. From their vantage-point, they could see some twenty or so steps before the staircase turned. No sign of Bruno.
'He can't possibly have got any further’ said Guido.
'Go down and look, for heaven's sake! He may have fallen!' said Laura.
Guido ran down the steps, with Laura and Livia's eyes following him, and disappeared round the turn. Not five mi
nutes later, he reappeared. 'I went to the bottom. He's not there. Go and check the house. We may have locked him in,' he said, in a high voice, panting hard.
'How can we?' said Laura. 'You have the keys!'
Having hoped to spare himself the climb, Guido clambered up, cursing, opened the gate and then the french windows. Then, in chorus, they called, 'Bruno! Bruno!'
'That wretched child is capable of hiding under a bed for the entire day to spite us,' said Guido, who was losing patience.
They searched for him all over the house, under the beds, inside the armoire, on top of the armoire, under the armoire, in the broom cupboard. Nothing. At a certain point, Livia said, 'But there's no sign of Ruggero either.'
It was true. The cat, who was always getting tangled between one's feet — as Guido knew all too well — had disappeared as well.
'Usually he comes when we call him, or at least miaows. Let's try calling him,' Guido suggested.
It was a logical idea, since the child couldn't talk. 'Ruggero! Ruggero!'
No feline response.
'So Bruno must be outside,' Laura surmised. They went out again and searched, even checking inside the two parked cars. Nothing. 'Bruno! Ruggero! Bruno! Ruggero!'
'Maybe he walked down the track that leads to the main road’ Livia suggested.
Laura's reaction was immediate: 'But if he got that far ... Oh, God, the traffic on that road is awful!'
Guido got into the car and drove slowly down the track, searching left and right. When he reached the end, he turned round and noticed that in front of the rustic cottage there was now a peasant of about fifty, poorly dressed, a dirty beret on his head, staring at the ground so intently that he seemed to be counting the ants.
Guido stopped and stuck his head out of the window. 'Excuse me...'
'Eh?' said the man, raising his head and batting his eyelids, like someone who had just woken up.
'Have you by any chance seen a little boy pass this way?'
'Who?'
'A three-year-old boy.' 'Why?'
What kind of a question was that? wondered Guido, whose nerves were strained. But he answered, 'Because we can't find him.'
'Ooh, no!' said the fifty-year-old man, looking suddenly concerned and turning three-quarters away, towards his house.
Guido baulked. 'What's that supposed to mean: "Ooh, no ?
' "Ooh, no" means "ooh, no", no? I never seen this little kid and anyhow I don't know nothing about 'im and I don't want to know nothing 'bout none o' this business’ he said firmly, then went into the house and closed the door behind him.
'Oh, no, you don't! Hey, you!' said Guido, enraged. 'That's no way to talk to people! Where are your manners?'
Spoiling for a fight and needing to let off steam, he got out of the car, went to the door and knocked, even kicked it. But it was hopeless. It remained closed. Cursing, he got back into the car and drove away, past the other house, the one that looked rather better. As it seemed empty, he didn't stop but continued to theirs.
'Nothing?'
'Nothing’
Laura threw herself into Livia's arms and burst into tears. 'See? Didn't I tell you this house was cursed?'
'Calm down, Laura, for heaven's sake!' her husband shouted.
This only made Laura cry even harder.
'What can we do?' Livia asked.
Guido made up his mind. 'I'm going to ring Emilio’
'Why the mayor?'
'I'll get him to send the usual squad. Or maybe some policemen. The more of us there are, the better. Don't you think?'
'Wait. Wouldn't it be better to get hold of Salvo?' 'Perhaps you're right’
Twenty minutes later, Montalbano pulled up in a patrol car driven by Gallo, who had raced there as if he was at Monza.
Stepping out of the car, the inspector looked a bit weary, pale and aggrieved, but that was how he always looked after a ride with Gallo.
Livia, Guido and Laura then proceeded to tell him what had happened, all at the same time, so that what little Montalbano was able to understand he grasped only by concentrating hard. Then they stopped and waited for his answer — which was sure to be decisive — with the same expectation as one awaiting grace from Our Lady of Lourdes.
'Could I have a glass of water?' was all he said.
He needed to collect himself, either because of the tremendous heat or to recover from Gallo's prowess behind the wheel. While Guido went to get the water, the two women stared at the inspector in disappointment.
'Where do you think he could be?' asked Livia.
'How should I know, Livia? I'm not a magician! Now, we'll see what we can do. But keep calm, you two. All this agitation distracts me.'
Guido handed him the water, and Montalbano drank
it. 'Could you please tell me what we're doing out here in the sun?' he asked. 'Getting sunstroke? Let's go inside. You too, Gallo.'
Gallo got out of the car and they all obediently followed the inspector.
But, for whatever reason, the minute they were in the living room, Laura's nerves gave way again. First she let out a shrill wail that sounded like the firemen's siren, then started to weep uncontrollably. She'd had a sudden revelation.
'He's been kidnapped!'
'Be reasonable, Laura,' said Guido, trying to bring her to her senses.
'But who would have kidnapped him?' Livia asked.
'How should I know? Gypsies! Albanians! Bedouins! I can feel that my poor little boy has been kidnapped!'
Montalbano had a wicked thought. If someone had kidnapped a holy terror like Bruno, they would surely give him back by the end of the day. Instead, he asked Laura, 'And why do you think they also kidnapped Ruggero?'
Gallo jumped out of his chair. He knew that one child had disappeared because the inspector had told him so; but after they had arrived at the house he'd remained in the car and hadn't heard anything that the others had told Montalbano. Now it had come out that two were missing? He looked questioningly at his superior.
'Don't worry, he's a cat.'
The idea of the cat had a miraculous effect. Laura calmed down a little. Montalbano was opening his mouth to say what they needed to do when Livia tensed in her chair, eyes goggling, and said, in a flat voice, 'Oh, my God, oh, my God...'
They all turned their eyes in the direction she was looking.
In the living-room doorway sat Ruggero, calm and serene, licking his chops.
Laura let out another siren-like wail and started screaming again. 'Can't you see it's true? The cat's here and Bruno isn't He's been kidnapped.' He's been kidnapped!'
Then she fainted.
Guido and Montalbano picked her up, carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Livia busied herself making cold compresses for Laura's forehead and held a bottle of vinegar under her nose. No luck. Laura wouldn't open her eyes.
Her face was grey, her jaw clenched, and she was drenched in cold sweat.
'Take her into Montereale to see a doctor,' Montalbano said to Guido. 'You, Livia, go with them.'
Having laid Laura on the back seat with her head on Livia's lap, Guido shot away at a speed that had even Gallo staring in admiration. The inspector and he then went back into the living room.
'Now that they're out of our hair,' Montalbano said to him, 'let's try to do something sensible. And the first
sensible thing to do would be to put on our swimming trunks. Otherwise, in this heat, we'll never manage to think clearly.'
'I haven't got mine with me, Chief.'
'Nor have I. But Guido's got three or four pairs.'
They found them and put them on. Luckily they were made of Lycra, since otherwise the inspector would have needed braces and Gallo would have been charged with indecent exposure.
'Now, here's what we'll do. About ten yards past the little gate, there's a stone staircase that leads down to the beach. It's the only place, based on what I could gather from their confused story, where they didn't look closely, I think. I want yo
u to go all the way down, but stopping at every step. The child may have fallen and rolled into some crevice in the rock.'
'And what are you going to do, Chief?'
'I'm going to make friends with the cat.'
Gallo looked at him, dumbfounded, and went out.
'Ruggero!' the inspector called. 'What a beautiful pussy you are! Ruggero!'
The cat rolled on to his back with his paws in the air. Montalbano tickled his belly.
'Prrrrrr...' said Ruggero.
'What do you say we go and find out what's in the fridge?' the inspector asked him, heading towards the kitchen.
Ruggero, who seemed not to object to the suggestion, followed him, and as Montalbano opened the refrigerator and pulled out two fresh anchovies, the cat rubbed against his legs, butting him lightly.
The inspector pulled out a paper plate, put the anchovies on it, set it on the floor, waited for the cat to finish eating, then went outside onto the terrace. Ruggero, as he'd expected, came after him. He headed for the staircase, in time to see Gallo's head appear.
'Absolutely nothing, Chief. I could swear the kid didn't go down these steps.'
'So, in your opinion, there's no way he could have got down to the beach and into the water?'
'Chief, if I've understood correctly, he's three years old. He couldn't have done it even if he was running.'
'So maybe we ought to do a better search of the surrounding area. There's no other explanation.'
'Chief, why don't we phone the station and ask for some help?' Gallo's sweat was dripping all the way down to his feet.
'Let's wait just a little longer. Meanwhile go and cool off. There's a hose in front of the house.'
'And you should put something on your head. Wait.' Gallo went to the terrace, where various beach accoutrements were scattered, and returned with Livia's hat, which was pink with a floral pattern. 'Here, put this on. Nobody can see you here.'
As Gallo went off, Montalbano noticed Ruggero was no longer with him. He went back into the house, into the kitchen, and called. No cat.
August Heat Page 2
