Death in Sardinia by Marco Vichi Page A

lost in thoughts about Badalamenti.
    ‘What’s wrong with you? Have you fallen in love again?’ asked Rosa, worried.
    ‘I’m just a little tired.’
    She seemed satisfied with his answer.
    ‘Another toast, Inspector?’
    ‘To your beauty.’
    ‘Oh, go on!’ she said, giggling, and held up her glass.

17 December
    ‘A loan shark?’ Baragli asked, opening his eyes slightly wider.
    Although it was early morning, he was very weak.
    ‘He lived near me,’ Bordelli said.
    ‘Inspector, those who sow the wind …’ said Baragli, lifting his shoulders just enough to make his point. The inspector approved with a nod.
    ‘Here, I brought you this,’ he said, taking a book out of his coat pocket.
    ‘Thanks, Inspector.’ Baragli took the book in his trembling hands and looked at the cover: Edgar Allan Poe – Stories .
    ‘They’re tales of the mysterious,’ said Bordelli.
    ‘Just what I needed … Could you put it over there, please?’
    The inspector laid the book down on the bedside table. Baragli had lost more weight, and one could see the shape of his skull through the skin on his face. A nurse came in and put some pills in his hand. She had dark hair, looked about thirty, quite pretty and full of life.
    ‘How are we doing today, Oreste?’ she said, handing him a glass of water.
    ‘Whenever I see you I feel a lot better,’ he said, smiling.
    ‘Then tonight I’ll come and sleep in your bed.’
    ‘Do you want me to choke on my medicine?’ the sergeant said with the pills already in his mouth.The nurse laughed and exchanged glances with Bordelli. Then she left, humming.
    ‘Cute,’ said Bordelli.
    ‘All nurses should be like her.’
    ‘I agree.’
    ‘So, with a pair of scissors, you were saying?’ Baragli resumed.
    ‘Yeah, right here, in the neck,’ said Bordelli, touching the base of his nape with a finger. Then he started telling the sergeant how he’d discovered Badalamenti’s hidey-hole, the IOUs and rigged contracts, and the woman who’d been blackmailed. The sergeant listened to Bordelli with great interest. The nostalgia for his former job shone in his eyes.
    ‘It was probably one of his debtors that did it,’ Baragli muttered with a wheezy voice.
    ‘That’s exactly where I’ll begin.’
    ‘You’ve got your work cut out for you, if there are as many as you say.’
    ‘I’ll try to be patient.’
    ‘What does Dr Diotivede think about all this?’ Baragli asked.
    ‘He hasn’t finished with the body yet, but according to him, he’s already told me all there is to say.’
    ‘You never know …’
    ‘I also found some photographs of a very young girl hidden behind a picture frame on the wall. I’ve got some men looking for her,’ said Bordelli, to let him feel part of the investigation.
    And indeed the sergeant seemed pleased.
    ‘Pretty?’ he asked.
    ‘Very,’ said Bordelli.
    Baragli turned slowly towards the window and remained silent for a while, looking outside. The weather was still nasty.
    Now and then a couple of drops fell, but it wasn’t really raining yet. Bordelli looked at the sergeant and thought about all the years they’d spent together in Via Zara … it seemed like yesterday …
    ‘A game of cards, Inspector?’ asked Baragli, trying to sit up in bed.
    ‘Why not?’
    Bordelli took the cards out of the drawer and they began to play. Baragli was very weak. He took a long time choosing his card, then simply dropped it on the sheet. Every minute or so he grimaced and touched his stomach. A few minutes later the surgeon came in, followed by two very young assistants.
    ‘How are you feeling, Sergeant?’ the doctor asked, reading the hospital chart at the foot of the bed. He was short and looked like a wicked pistolero in a Western.
    ‘I can’t breathe, Doctor, and I’m having terrible shooting pains here,’ said Baragli, touching his upper abdomen.
    ‘That’s normal after an operation like yours.’
    ‘It gets worse every day …’
    ‘It’ll get better