The Patience of the Spider Read Free

day, replies everybodythat is, Montalbano, since hes
the only body in the room when the doctor appears.
    Di Bartolo approaches the bed and looks at him with interest.
    Im glad to see that, despite my colleagues efforts, you can still
understand and know what you want.
    He makes a gesture and Strazzera appears beside him and hands
him the test results. Di Bartolo barely glances at the first sheet and then
tosses it onto the bed, does the same with the second, ditto the third and
the fourth. In a matter of seconds, Montalbanos head and torso disappear
under the paper. In the end he hears the doctors voice but cant see
him because the photos of the telecardiogram are over his eyes.
    Mind telling me why you called me here?
    The bleat sounds rather irritated. Apparently the goat is getting
ornery.
    Well, Doctor, Strazzeras voice hesitantly begins, the fact is,
one of the inspectors men told us that a few days ago hed had a serious
episode of...
    Of what? Montalbano can no longer hear Strazzera. Maybe hes
telling the next installment in Di Bartolos ear. Installment? This
isnt some soap opera. Strazzera said episode. But isnt a soap
opera installment called an episode?
    Pull him up for me, orders Dr. Di Bartolo.
    They remove the sheets of paper covering him and gently lift him
up. A circle of doctors in white surround the bed, religiously silent. Di
Bartolo applies the stethoscope to Montalbanos chest, moves it a few
centimeters, then moves it a few more centimeters and stops. Seeing his
face so close, the inspector notices that the doctors jaws are moving continuously,
as if he were chewing gum. All at once, he understands.The
doctor is ruminating. Dr. Di Bartolo actually is a goat. Who now
hasnt moved for a long time. Hes listening, immobile. What do his
ears hear in there? Montalbano wonders. Buildings collapsing? Fissures
suddenly opening up? Subterranean rumbles? Di Bartolo keeps
listening interminably, not moving one millimeter from the spot hes
singled out. Doesnt it hurt his back to stay bent over like that? The
inspector begins to sweat from fear.The doctor straightens up.
    Thats enough.
    The other doctors set Montalbano back down.
    In my opinion, the luminary concludes, you could shoot him
another three or four times, extract the bullets without anesthesia, and
his heart would definitely stand up to it.
    Then he leaves, without saying goodbye to anyone.
    Ten minutes later, the inspectors in the operating room.Theres a
bright white light. A man stands over him, holding a kind of mask in
his hand, which he places over Montalbanos face.
    Breathe deeply, he says.
    He obeys. And cant remember anything else.
    How is it, he asks himself, they havent yet invented an aerosol cartridge
for when you cant sleep? Something you stick it in your nose
and push, and the gas or whatever it is comes out, and you fall asleep
right away?
    That would be handy, an anti-insomnia anesthesia. He suddenly
feels thirsty, gets out of bed gingerly, to avoid waking
Livia, goes into the kitchen, and pours himself a glass of mineral
water from an already open bottle. Now what? He decides
to exercise his right arm a little, the way the physical therapist
taught him. One, two, three, and four. One, two, three, and
four. The arm works fine. Well enough for him to drive with
ease.
    Strazzera was absolutely right. Except that sometimes his
arm falls asleep, the way your leg does when you stay in the
same position for too long without moving and the whole
limb feels full of pins and needles. Or armies of ants. He
drinks another glass of water and goes back to bed. Feeling
    him slip under the covers, Livia murmurs something and turns
her back to him.
    Water, he implores, opening his eyes.
    Livia pours him a glass, holding his head up with her hand at the
base of the skull so he can drink.Then she puts the glass back on the
nightstand and disappears from the inspectors