GUSTAW HERLING
63
"In the spring of 1964 Malcolm went with the archaeological group for
three months somewhere near Agrigento. He came back in May suntanned,
younger, and bursting with energy, in the company of a handsome twenty–
five-year-old Sicilian whom he called Tom or Tommy. That was the begin–
ning of a new chapter at the villa on the Posillipo. The newcomer from Sicily
put his hand to the helm of the somewhat rotting ship. The custodian and his
wife were sent away, general order was restored to the cluttered, dirt-en–
crusted rooms, and Tom went to work on the overgrown garden. Villa
Melton came back to life, and everything was idyllic. Ah, Signor Commis–
sario, it would be hard to describe those two men in love without seeming
excessive or perhaps sounding ludicrous! I'll just leave it at that and admit
that I am unable to do so. Tom was a fairly primitive chap, virtually unedu–
cated, but Malcolm adored him as ifhe were a holy image. Whenever Tom
went to see his family in Sicily, in Castelvetrano, Malcolm sank into boredom
stirred by feverish nerves and soothed by alcohol."
''Tommaso Patano was not from Castelvetrano, and he had no rela–
tives there. He came fi-om Palermo. "
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am sure. We checked that when he arrived in Naples. Since I
am Sicilian myself, Sicilians who settle in Naples are automatically my re–
sponsibility. Particularly the special cases."
"Was Patano a special case? I am not asking for details, and you prob–
ably wouldn't tell me anyway, It's a pity though, because they might clear up
a great deal."
"Despite the half-hea rted license I gave you - license to use your
imagination and so-called intuition - it is our job to clear things up. And that of
our colleagues at Scotland Yard, on the basis of the information we can give
them. Your job is to tell me what you know . Frankly I now regret having
rectified the little fib Malcolm Melton's wife or husband told him."
"Don't make fun, Signor Commissario. Believe me , it really was a
happy marriage. Once when Tom was away, Malcolm confided that he in–
tended to leave Tom the Posillipo villa in his will. Only one trivial matter
disturbed the idyll, something that might not be too surprising to you. Patano
was terribly frightened of the Eye of Providence, for him it was an effigy of
the
Malocchio,
the Evil Eye. He begged Malcolm to burn the engraving or at
least to move it to the uninhabited tower on the villa's roof. Malcolm would
have none of it. He was always solicitous of the young companion of his life,
but on this occasion he was obdurate and unyielding; he hit his fist on the
table and beat his cane on the floor shouting "No, no, no." There are, you
know, mysterious recesses in the human soul. I told you that he treated
Freemasonry with a bit of irony, otherwise his respect lor its symbol could
