Read Online The Potter's Field by Andrea Camilleri - Free Book Online Page A

commissioner cut him short. “The fact of the matter is that Ragonese recovered this scrap from one of two garbage bags that were left for him in a certain place by a bogus phonecaller seeking revenge.”
    Apparently the piece of paper had been among all the trash he collected under the veranda, and he hadn’t noticed it.
    â€œMr. Commissioner, you’ll have to excuse me, but frankly I haven’t understood a single word you’ve said. In what way does this constitute revenge? If you could clarify a little—”
    The commissioner sighed.
    â€œA few days ago, you see, when the newsman reported the story of the dead body found in the garbage bag, he mentioned that you had neglected to consider another similar bag that contained instead . . .” He interrupted himself, as the explanation was getting complicated. “Did you see the program?” he asked, hopefully.
    â€œNo, sorry to say.”
    â€œWell, then, let’s forget the whys and wherefores. The fact is, Ragonese is convinced that it was you who did this, to offend him.”
    â€œMe? To offend him? How?”
    â€œOne of the two bags contained a sheet of paper with the word ASSHOLE written on it.”
    â€œBut Mr. Commissioner, if you’ll excuse my saying so, there are literally billions of assholes in the world! Why is Ragonese such an asshole as to think that this one refers specifically to him?”
    â€œBecause it would prove—”
    â€œProve?! What would it prove, Mr. Commissioner?”
    And, pointing a trembling finger at Bonetti-Alderighi, with an expression of indignation and a quasi-castrato voice, he launched into the climax:
    â€œAh, so you, Mr. Commissioner, actually believed such a groundless accusation? Ah, I feel so insulted and humiliated ! You’re accusing me of an act—no, indeed, a crime that, if true, would warrant severe punishment! As if I were a common idiot or gambler! That journalist must be possessed to think such a thing!”
    End of climax. The inspector inwardly congratulated himself. He had managed to utter a statement using only titles of novels by Dostoyevsky. Had the commissioner noticed ? Of course not! The man was ignorant as a goat.
    â€œDon’t get so upset, Montalbano! Come on, in the end—”
    â€œCome on, my eye! In the end, my eye! That man has insulted me! You know what I say, Mr. Commissioner? I demand an immediate apology, in writing, from Mr. Ragonese! Actually, no. I want a public apology, broadcast on television! Otherwise I will call a press conference and expose the whole matter! All of it!”
    The implied message for the commissioner: And I will tell everyone that you believed the whole story, asshole.
    â€œOh, calm down, Montalbano. Just take a deep breath. I’ll see what I can do.”
    But the inspector, in his fury, had already opened the office door. Closing it behind him, he found his path blocked by Lattes.
    â€œI’m sorry, Inspector, but I didn’t quite understand what the connection was between your wife’s return home and the utility bills.”
    â€œI’ll explain another time, Doctor.”

    At Enzo’s Trattoria he decided he should celebrate the success of the drama he had performed for the commissioner. And that he should continue to distract himself from the worry that Livia’s phone call had caused him.
    â€œHello, Inspector. For antipasto today we’ve got fritters of nunnatu .”
    â€œI want ’em.”
    He committed a massacre of nunnati —newborns, that is. Herod had nothing on him.
    â€œWhat would you like for a first course, Inspector? We’ve got pasta in squid ink, pasta with shrimp, pasta with sea urchin, pasta with mussels, pasta with—”
    â€œWith sea urchin.”
    â€œFor the second course we’ve got striped surmullet, which you can have cooked in salt, fired, roasted, with a sauce