Read Online IM11 The Wings of the Sphinx (2009) by Andrea Camilleri - Free Book Online Page A

Signora Ciccina had been called by the kidnappers demanding ransom, would you believe it or not?”
    “I could believe it if—” Fazio began, but Mimì got angry and interrupted him.
    “But we both arrived at the same conclusion, you and I! How is it you’ve suddenly changed your mind?”
    “Please let me speak, Inspector Augello. I could believe it if I thought Picarella had spent all the money he took from his safe, and had put his friend up to phoning for more.”
    “Then I’m with you!” said Mimì.
    “So you two continue to believe that the kidnapping was staged?”
    “Yes,” said Augello and Fazio in unison.
    Montalbano opened the drawer, grabbed a copy of the photo, and handed it to Mimì.
    Fazio stood up and got behind Mimì to have a look himself.
    “Holy shit!” exclaimed Augello.
    “It’s him!” said Fazio.
    “When was this taken?” asked Mimì.
    “How did you get this?” Fazio followed up.
    “Calm down. The photo dates from no more than three or four days ago,” said Montalbano.
    “Where was it taken?” asked Mimì.
    “In Havana, at a nightclub. See? You guys were wrong. Picarella was not in the Maldives or the Bahamas, but in Cuba.”
    “The son of a bitch!” said Mimì.
    “How did you get this?” Fazio asked again.
    “That man there with the mustache and glasses gave it to me. He’s from Vigàta.”
    “I don’t know ’im,” said Fazio.
    “Actually I think you do,” said Montalbano, handing him the original photo.
    “Why, that’s Di Noto, the fish exporter!”
    “Bravo. I had his features changed to keep him out of it.”
    “So what do we do now?”
    “Simple. Tomorrow morning, when Fazio goes out looking for furniture works and restorers, you are going to summon Signora Ciccina Picarella and give her the lowdown.”
    “Yeah, and that lady, jealous as she is, is liable to take it out on me!”
    “Risks of the profession, Mimì.”
    “But how should I proceed?”
    “You have to handle her very tactfully, Mimì. Start, for example, by telling her that you are absolutely certain that her husband, wherever he is, is fine. Great, in fact. Actually, he couldn’t possibly be better. And at that very moment, as the lady’s worries are starting to fade, you show her the photograph.”
    “What if she asks me how we got hold of it?”
    “You tell her it was sent to us anonymously.”
    “You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to call her right now and tell her to come here. That way I don’t have to think about it. And then, if need be, I’ll call you for help.”
    “Call me? I’ve got nothing to do with this case, Mimì, and I don’t want to have anything to do with it. The honor of solving it lies with you and Fazio. So don’t even try.”

    He stayed at the station another half an hour. Then, worried that Mimì, not knowing what to do with Signora Ciccina, might call him, he decided to leave.
    “You goin’ home, Chief?”
    “Yeah, Cat. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    The rain was taking a short break. But it was threatening to start again even harder than before.
    Once he set off, he realized he didn’t really feel like going home. With all the rain that had fallen, he wouldn’t be able to sit out on the veranda. He would have to eat in the kitchen or in front of the television. Alone, in short, between four walls, rehashing his situation with Livia. Imagine the fun! What to do? Go to Enzo’s, or try another trattoria? And what if it started deluging again?
    Lost amidst these doubts, he was driving very slowly when somebody behind him honked. He pulled over to let them pass. But the car coming up behind him not only did not pass him, it gave another toot of the horn.
    Were these people bent on breaking his balls?
    It had started raining again, and, as a result, he could just barely see in the rearview mirror that the high-powered car behind him was green in color. He lowered his window, stuck out his arm, and motioned for the car to pass. The only