GUSTAW HERLING
65
Don Calogero. Malcolm immediately took him for a big fish in the Mafia. The
idea that the Freemasons and the Mafia could join together, under the
friendly and benevolent eye ofa servant of God, a chaplain of the Church ,
was too much even for Malcolm. Don Calogero never took his eyes off
Malcolm, as ifhe were subjecting him to some sort of examination. The next
day Don Calogero called on him in the hotel in Trapani. Patano was present
during their conversation; true, he did not take part in the conversation, but
he was so obsequious with the guest that it was clear they knew each other,
however strenuously he might try to deny it. What did Malcolm and Don
Calogero talk about? I don't know. I simply do not know. Malcolm's confi–
dences, right after Patano's disappearance, were full of gaps and abrupt si–
lences which I did not dare to interrupt with questions."
"What would a Sicilian
mafioso,
if he really was a
mafioso,
have
to
say
to a retired English oHicer and Freemason? You really ought to bridle your
imagination a bit."
"I am still keeping a close rein on it; I haven 't said anything about that
yet. I will now, though. One of Malcolm's remarks did stick in my mind ; it
was just something he said in passing, with no re!erence
to
the gathering in
Erice or the episode in Trapani. It went exactly like this: "They told me in
Sicily that the Mafia is trying to buy arms abroad for narcotics." Who told
him that? And why would anyone say that to an English Freemason, a re–
tired officer who had worked in army staffollices in his own country be!ixe
he was transferred to NATO headquarters in aples? Let me just go back a
moment in time. I was on holiday in Piedmont in July and August, so Mal–
colm's Sicilian expedition took place during my absence from Naples. I came
back from my vacation at the beginning of September. The atmosphere I
found at Villa Melton was rather heavy. Malcolm was excited and jittery:
any little thing made him angry, and some sort of struggle was clearly going
on inside him. He went ofrto London quite suddenly and asked me
to
look in
at the villa every now and then. One time I went by unannounced. Coming
through the street gate to the villa, I encountered a tall heavy-set man . I
gave it no thought at the time, but later I realized that it must have been Don
Calogero. The door to the villa was open, and Patano leapt up from the
couch when he saw me. He could not hide his embarrassment, but he did not
ask what I came for. I was struck by the fact that the Eye of Providence
had been taken off its hook and stood in the corner facing the wall. There
were crumpled papers on Malcolm's desk, the lid of the secretaire was
~jar.
I
never mentioned this
to
Malcolm, even in the period after Tom's disappear–
ance when he was pouring out his (i-agmentary and chaotic confidences."
"Why?"
"The whole business had its sentimental side; it was a love story too. I
