Read Online Death in Sardinia by Marco Vichi - Free Book Online

rubbish and it’s already time to feed the pigeons.’
    ‘If you go on I’m going to start crying,’ said the inspector.
    Diotivede walked over to a gurney. With the ease of habit he pulled back the sheet covering a corpse, then folded it up like a housewife and put it away on a shelf. Bordelli immediately recognised Badalamenti’s face, which was disagreeable even in death. The corpse’s abdomen had already been opened. Diotivede calmly put on his gloves and then got down to work with the forceps. The inspector approached the gurney.
    The loan shark’s eyes were clamped shut with two pins. Diotivede didn’t like to work on a corpse whose eyes were open.
    Bordelli studied the stocky, hirsute body of Totuccio Badalamenti. He had short, almost dwarf-like thighs. It looked as if he had grown only from the waist up. The tip of each finger was stained black with ink. De Marchi had already come and taken the corpse’s fingerprints.
    ‘Any news?’ Bordelli asked, gesturing towards the body. The doctor didn’t answer.
    ‘Diotivede, can you hear me?’
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘Have you got any news about Badalamenti?’
    ‘I just opened him up a short while ago. I was very behind in my work.’
    ‘Such delicacy …’ said the inspector.
    He stuck a cigarette between his lips but didn’t light it. In the fiefdom of forensic medicine, smoking was forbidden.
    ‘Diotivede, have you ever done this stuff on a friend? Must be strange, no?’
    The doctor said nothing. He seemed quite engrossed. He had both hands inside the corpse and was talking to himself.
    ‘Damn it all …’ he muttered. He was clearly in a bad mood and even looked slightly dishevelled, though this was only an impression. The hair that stood straight up on his head could never be dishevelled. Bordelli sighed.
    ‘Three years is a long time, and anyway, you can always keep working in one way or another afterwards, don’t you think?’ he said, twirling the unlit cigarette between his fingers.
    ‘You’re right. I could start dissecting dogs and chickens to find out how they died.’
    ‘Why not? You could set up your own private morgue.’ Diotivede gave a slight, cold hint of a smile, then stuck his forceps farther into Badalamenti’s belly. The physical effort made it look as if he was repairing a bathroom sink.
    ‘Anyway, retirement’s not such a bad thing,’ the inspector continued.
    ‘I found out today … I don’t know, it’s had an unpleasant effect on me … But where the hell did that thing go …?
    ‘Looking for the heart? Don’t bother; this model hasn’t got one.’
    Diotivede wasn’t paying much attention to Bordelli. He carried on searching the usurer’s intestines and at last found what he was looking for.
    ‘So I wasn’t mistaken after all,’ he said in satisfaction, holding the forceps up in the air. Between their pointed tips was a small metal ring covered by a dark patina. The inspector drew near, curious to know what it was.
    ‘What the hell is that?’ he asked.
    Diotivede didn’t answer. Holding the forceps before his eyes, he went over to the sink with the inspector following behind, turned on the water and let it run over the mysterious object. The patina faded and the mystery was revealed: it was a gold ring.
    ‘Excuse me a minute,’ Bordelli said, taking the forceps out of Diotivede’s hand and bringing them close to a lamp. It was not a wedding band. On one side the ring narrowed to where it was barely thicker than a thread, and on the broader side a tiny little diamond was set. Inscribed inside the band was a name: Ciro .
    ‘Can you tell me how long it was before he died that he swallowed it?’ Bordelli asked.
    ‘Not long before – not more than half an hour.’
    ‘Are you sure?’ the inspector asked distractedly. Diotivede stopped dead in his tracks and looked him hard in the eyes.
    ‘I always speak only when I am sure of something; otherwise I keep quiet,’ he said curtly.
    ‘No need to get