Judge Surra Read Free Page B

Don Nené wanted him killed, he was a dead man.” “Right enough,” Professor Sciacca said, “but this time I don’t think Don Nené is going to find it so easy to win this particular game. I would even go so far as to say there’s no way of knowing who’s going to come out on top. Judge Surra might look as though he’s nothing, but he must have balls of iron.”
    â€œIron! Reinforced steel!” Don Arturo Siccia cut in. “Listen to me. Did you hear what the eye witnesses recounted? Afterthe shots were fired, as fresh and cool as a quartered chicken on a block, he bent down, picked up his hat, stuck it on his head without deigning even to glance at it, and went on his way to the court without uttering a word. What does he have in his veins? Ice?”
    â€œIf you want to know, I was there during the scene the other evening in the Caffè
Arnone
,” Doctor Piscopo said. “Mother of God, you should have seen him, icy-cold he was as he ordered Don Nené to hand back the papers. He even had a smile on his lips as he spoke.”
    â€œThat’s a man who’s not afraid of a living soul! And he’s going to give Don Nené just enough rope to hang himself,” Don Agatino Smecca said.
    They all nodded.
    *
    The prefect was not at home. He was out of town and due back late. The judge took the money for the repairs to the courtroom to hand over to Nicolosi, but before returning home, he stopped at the Caffè
Arnone
to get them to wrap up two
cannoli
for him. So what if they would lie heavily on his stomach?
    As he made his way home, he could not fail to notice a certain change in the attitude of passers-by towards him. Some, a clear majority, greeted him with evident warmth and even gave him a friendly smile, while a minority ostentatiously ignored him, turning away or hurriedly crossing the street to avoid him.
    He could not understand what was going on.
    God Almighty, was he not the same Surra he had been the night before? What was different about him? He had done nothing to justify such clear evidence of hostility from some and of friendliness from others.
    A friend in Turin, himself a Sicilian, had warned him that Sicilians are much more volatile than they wish to appear. But how far did this go? Was there something amiss in his own behaviour? Perhaps some people were upset at his excessive fondness for
cannoli
, while others were pleased at his appreciation of a local product?
    Ah well! He would never manage to fathom them!
    He dined at home and intended to start reading the book which Fallarino had given him.
    But he changed his mind and set to thinking how he should conduct himself with regard to Presiding Judge Paolantonio.
    Two hours later, he believed he had come up with a solution and went to sleep.
    *
    â€œI am sorry to have to tell you that your request to be readmitted to judicial service has been rejected.”
    Paolantonio turned pale.
    â€œMay I ask why?”
    â€œYou are fully entitled to know. You took possession, unlawfully, of court papers relating to a case which was still
sub judice
and thus covered by requirements of confidentiality, andyou handed them to a third party when requested. I have no doubt you were perfectly aware of the gravity of the crime you were committing.”
    The judge found it hard to reply. He wiped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief.
    â€œThere are some matters which … even against your own will …”
    â€œThere can be no justification for what you have done,” Surra cut him short. “I would also advise you that I consider it my duty to institute proceedings against you for this offence.”
    Paolantonio’s face turned ashen.
    â€œI … I beg you to spare me this …”
    Judge Surra stared at him. Paolantonio trembled and fell silent.
    â€œThere might be a solution.”
    â€œTell me and I’ll …”
    â€œHave the papers returned and bring