Read The Dark Valley: A Commissario Soneri Mystery (Commissario Soneri 2) for Free Online

might have been the cry of a wild beast,” Delrio advised his companions.
    “There are some that sound almost human,” Rivara said.
    “Such as cats on heat,” Ghidini added.
    “You can never be sure of anything,” the commissario said.
    “It’s not like being in the city. Sometimes these mountains seem to have been put there just to confuse people,” Maini said.
    “It’s got nothing to do with the mountains, for God’s sake,” Soneri said.
    “It could have been Palmiro calling for his dog. He can’t have known it had long ago made its way home,” Maini said.
    “He was as fond of that dog as he was of his son,” Volpi said.
    “And the dog was more faithful,” Ghidini said.
    Soneri grew ever more uncomfortable listening to the conversation, laden as it was with allusions which escaped him. It was clear that there were layers of hidden meanings in the talk, confirmed by nods and little grins and winks. It was like a mime show put on for him, or like listening to a foreign language and it made him aware of a growing distance between himself and the people here with whom he would have liked to re-establisha fraternal cameraderie. He had deluded himself that he could easily re-enter the community, but now he felt as isolated as he felt in the questura, and as perhaps he always was.
    He noticed that the conversation had stopped and that Maini and the others were staring at him. The same silence as before fell over the group. The waiting became more and more oppressive. He lit a cigar, more to mask his embarrassment than from any genuine wish to smoke. That intolerable silence was broken by the sound of a car screeching to a halt in the piazza. The youths who had been there a short time previously came running into the bar.
    “Palmiro is home,” the driver announced.
    The tension evaporated in an instant. Rivara stepped forward. “Who found him?”
    “No-one. He made it on his own. He bumped into the carabinieri at the reservoir and asked them if they were looking for him. Apparently, he didn’t even want them to give him a lift back.”
    “Palmiro’s made of iron!” Volpi said.
    “They’ve made us waste all this time for nothing,” Delrio grumbled. He picked up his radio-phone and bellowed into it, “OK? … It’s all over? … Can we go now?”
    He stood there listening for some time, while the others spoke in whispers so as not to disturb him. When he shut down the connection, he found all eyes trained on him.
    “The fireworks did the trick. He says he saw them and was able to get his bearings, but he claims he would’ve found the road even without them.”
    “He must be nearly dead with exhaustion.”
    “I suppose so, but it’s pitch black up there and they’ve only just found him.”
    “Did he have his rifle?”
    “No, he was unarmed.”
    “Have they asked him how come he got lost?”
    Delrio stretched out his arms. “His story is that he wanted to go as far as the mountain pass to see if there were any mushrooms there, but the mist came down without warning.”
    “And that was all he had to say?” Volpi sounded sceptical.
    “He asked a couple of times about his dog, because it seems they were separated and he kept calling him.”
    “So that was the voice they heard.”
    “Sounds that way.”
    “The dog’s getting old. He doesn’t see too well now and doesn’t like walking long distances,” Ghidini said.
    “So his chief anxiety was his dog,” Delrio said.
    “That’s all he’s got left,” Rivara said.
    One of the young men who had arrived in the car went over to the bar, placed both elbows on it and leaned over towards the barman. “Why do you think a lorry would be stopped on the main road at this time of night?” He spoke loudly enough to ensure that everyone could hear him.
    “What lorry?” Rivara said.
    “A refrigerator lorry with a foreign number plate. The driver seemed to have lost his bearings in the mist, and asked us for directions to the salame