“Signor Miccichè, it’s not a crime, you know, if you lend it to someone every now and then. Even I sometimes lend my car to my wife or my brother.” He figured it would seem reassuring for him to come off as a cop, yes, but with a family. A person like everyone else. Miccichè thought it over for a minute before speaking. “Yeah, I know iss not a crime.” So a bit of encouragement wasn’t enough? Should he resort to threats to extract the information from him? Montalbano assumed a serious expression. “I ought to remind you that I am a public official, and you are duty-bound to answer my questions.” Miccichè sighed. “Iss not that I don’ wanna answer . . . Iss that iss a very private matter . . . I wouldn’t wanna cause no harm to anyone . . .” “I formally guarantee you that nothing you say to me will leave this room.”
