The Potter's Field Read Free Page A

Augello and Fazio had taken. The only problem was that there was no sign anywhere of Augello or Fazio, or of any corpse whatsoever.
    â€œAre we playing hide-and-seek or something?” Montalbano inquired.
    â€œChief, alls they tol’ me was to stop as soon as I seen their Jeep.”
    â€œGive a toot.”
    â€œA toot o’ wha’, Chief ?”
    â€œWhat the hell do you think, Cat? A toot of your trumpet ? A toot of your tenor sax? Honk the goddamn horn!”
    â€œThe horn don’ work, Chief.”
    â€œWell, I guess that means we’ll have to wait here till dark.”
    He fired up a cigarette. By the time he’d finished it, Catarella had made up his mind.
    â€œChief, I’m gonna go look for ’em m’self. Seeing as how their Jeep’s right here, maybe it means they’re maybe right here, inna ’sinnity.”
    â€œTake my raincoat.”
    â€œNah, Chief, I can’t.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œCuz a raincoat’s civillan ’n’ I’m in uniform.”
    â€œBut who’s gonna see you here?”
    â€œChief, a uniform’s always a uniform.”
    He opened the door, got out, gasped “Ah,” and vanished. He disappeared so quickly, in fact, that Montalbano feared he might have fallen into a ditch full of water and was now drowning. He quickly got out of the car himself, and in the twinkling of an eye found himself sliding ass to the ground down a muddy slope some thirty feet long at the bottom of which sat Catarella, looking like a sculpture made out of fresh clay.
    â€œI mussa parked the Jeep right aside the edge wittout realizin’ it, Chief.”
    â€œI figured that, Cat. So, how are we going to climb out of here now?”
    â€œLook, Chief, see ’at little path over there, over onna left? I’m gonna go ’ave a look-see, ’n’ you c’n follow me, but be real careful, cuz iss all slip’ry ’n’ all.”
    About fifty yards on, the path turned to the right. The heavy rain made it impossible to see even a short distance ahead. Suddenly Montalbano heard someone calling from above.
    â€œChief ! We’re over here!”
    He looked up. Fazio was standing atop a sort of elevation, reachable via three huge steps cut directly into the rock face. He was sheltered under an enormous red-and-yellow umbrella of the kind shepherds use. Where on earth had he found it? To climb the three steps, Montalbano had to have Catarella push him from behind and Fazio pull him up by the hand.
    I’m no longer cut out for this life , he thought bitterly.
    The elevation turned out to be a tiny, level clearing in front of the entrance to a cave that one could enter. Once inside, the inspector was wonderstruck.
    It was warm in the cave. A fire was burning inside a circle of rocks. A carter’s oil lamp hung from the vault and gave off sufficient light. Mimì and a man of about sixty with a pipe in his mouth were each sitting on a stool made of tree branches and playing cards on a little table between them, also made of branches. Every so often, taking turns, they took a sip from a flask of wine on the ground. A pastoral scene. Especially as there was no hint of the corpse anywhere. The sixtyish man greeted the inspector; Mimì did not. In fact, for the past month or so, Augello had been at odds with all of creation.
    â€œThe dead body was discovered by that man playing cards with Inspector Augello,” said Fazio, gesturing towards the man. “His name’s Pasquale Ajena, and this is his land. He comes here every day. And he’s equipped the cave so that he can eat here, rest here, or just sit here and look out at the landscape.”
    â€œMay I humbly ask where the hell the body is?”
    â€œApparently, it’s about fifty yards further down.”
    â€œ Apparently? Are you saying you haven’t seen it yet?”
    â€œYes. According to Mr. Ajena, the spot is