The Age of Doubt Read Free Page A

sea. He didn’t work, but he had a ton of money. Nobody knew where it came from. Apparently he had some sort of partnership with a banker named Ricca.”
    “And what do you do, if you don’t mind my asking?”
    “Me?”
    She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if she needed to choose from the many different things she did.
    “I’m a student.”

    In the half hour that followed, Montalbano learned that the girl, who was an orphan and lived in Palermo, was studying architecture, didn’t have a boyfriend, and, well aware that she was no beauty, loved to read and listen to music. He also learned that she didn’t use perfume, lived with a cat named Eleuterio in an apartment that she owned, and preferred going to the movies to sitting in front of the television. Then she stopped all at once, looked at the inspector, and said:
    “Thanks.”
    “For what?”
    “For listening to me. It’s not every day that a man will sit and listen to me for so long.”
    Montalbano felt a little sorry for her.
    Then Gallo arrived.
    “The road’s still out,” he said, “but the firemen and road crews are at the site. It’s gonna take hours.”
    Vanna stood up.
    “I’m going to go change.”
    When they went outside, the downpour had actually intensified. Gallo took the Montereale road and at the crossroads turned towards Montelusa. A good half hour later, they arrived in Vigàta.
    “Let’s take the young lady to the Harbor Office,” the inspector said.
    When Gallo pulled up, Montalbano said to Vanna:
    “Go and see if they have any news. We’ll wait for you here.”
    Vanna returned about ten minutes later.
    “They said my aunt’s boat sent word that they’re proceeding slowly but are all right, and they expect to pull into port around four o’clock this afternoon.”
    “So what are you going to do?”
    “What am I supposed to do? I’ll wait.”
    “Where?”
    “Oh, I dunno, I’m unfamiliar with this town. I guess I’ll go and sit in a café.”
    “Why don’t you come with us to the police station? You’ll be a lot more comfortable than in a café.”
    There was a small waiting room at the station. Montalbano sat her down there, and since he had boughta novel just the day before titled
The Solitude of Prime Numbers
, he brought the book to her.
    “Fantastic!” said Vanna. I’ve been wanting to buy this. I’ve heard a lot of good things about it.”
    “If you need anything, ask Catarella, the switchboard operator.”
    “Thanks. You’re a real—”
    “What’s the name of your aunt’s boat?”
    “Same as mine. The
Vanna
.”
    Before leaving the room, he eyed the girl. She looked like a wet dog. The clothes she had put back on hadn’t completely dried and were all wrinkled. Her bun of black hair had come apart and covered half her face. And she had a strange way of sitting that the inspector had noticed in certain refugees, who always look ready to leave the chair in which they are sitting, or to stay seated in that chair for eternity.

    He stopped at Catarella’s post.
    “Call up the Harbor Office and tell them that if the
Vanna
contacts them again, I want to know what they said.”
    Catarella looked flummoxed.
    “What’s wrong?” the inspector asked.
    “How’s Havana gonna contact the Harbor Office?”
    Montalbano’s heart sank.
    “Never mind. I’ll handle it myself.”

2
    His office was unusable. Water was pouring down from the ceiling as if there were ten broken pipes overhead. Since Mimì Augello wouldn’t be coming in that morning, the inspector took over his deputy’s room.
    Around one o’clock, as he was getting up to go out for lunch, the phone rang.
    “Chief, ’at’d be the Harbor Office onna phone, but I don’ tink the man’s a officer ’cause ’e says ’e’s Lieutinnint wha’ss ’is name . . . damn, I forgot!”
    “Cat, a lieutenant
is
an officer, even though you don’t have to be an officer to work at the Harbor Office.”
    “Oh, rilly? So wha’ss it