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By Root 1361 0

within a determined field of forces, the field of gravity, or the field of obsequiousness and pass-the-buckdom. And there was no need even to summon up two louts with two clumps of hair on their noses, and two huge shiny leather belts adorned with pistols and dirks, to make the ass-sitting subaltern aware, from the other end of the wire, on the spot, of what he had best answer, or how he should best proceed: "Prepared . . . always prepared to obey." Click. And so it happened after the crime, the first, at Via Merulana two hundred and nineteen, as soon as the second, the horrible murder, followed it. "The unjustified delay in the investigations, which" now must "assume a brisker pace," adapting themselves from one moment to the next to the impatient stampings of the pausarius, hammering at the prow, rather than the poop, and in compensation with all four hoofs. The economical Commendatore and, in his free time truffle-fancier, eighty-six hours after that nine P.M. of the Monday evening, was invited to show up again at Santo Stefano. After ninety-two, more dead than alive, he was sent back to blowing his nose in Regina Coeli: in the vast and least expectable of his handkerchiefs.

*** *** ***

The poor Signora Balducci, according to the tenants' unanimous affirmations, seemed to have received no one in that house, the two last hours of her life! No one. Except her killer.

They hadn't heard any shouts, or noises, or thuds: not even la Menegazzi, who had been combing her hair, not even the two Bottafavis, husband and wife. Inquiries at the Roman office of Standard Oil, "conducted personally by Doctor Ingravallo," confirmed the fact of the transfer, to Genoa, decided upon some time ago, of Doctor Giuliano Valdarena. It had been settled that he would leave on Monday, March 21st, oh, give or take a day either way. As far as they were concerned, they had nothing but praise for the young man. A quick-witted employee, a good talker when he wanted to be, distinguished appearance: and basically, oh yes, a willing worker. He didn't have to be asked twice to take a taxi and chase after some client, some engineer, one of those who are always running around, constantly in motion, up and down the country, in trains. Some mornings, early, or some sultry afternoons, perhaps . . . Well, he was young. A little laziness, at times, on some sirocco days: the office atmosphere. But with the clients, for the most part, he hit it off just fine.

"It doesn't take much," Don Ciccio grunted to himself, "Where are they going to buy their oil, anyway? From the egg-man?"

He hit it off, yes. The competition, especially when it comes to oil for transformers, that's where the real money is, tended to knock down the prices, though within the limits established by the cartel, to exploit the profit margin . . . of the ten lire per quintal. He, well, he knew his way around: he had a kind of charm, his good manners, the appearance of a man who uses his head, who knows how to wait.

"You see, Doctor . . . er . . . Ingravallo, you won't believe it, perhaps, but a client is sort of like a woman. You think I'm joking, maybe . . . You have to know how to handle them. The patience it takes, sometimes! You have to wait, to know how to wait: stay there, under the stone bench, with your eyes looking sleepy, but ready to spring, like a tomcat in heat. And then there are times instead when you have to be cagey . . to make sure you get there before the next fellow, the competition, I mean. Believe me, sir, you have to keep working on them till they fall for you, at least a little bit, at least for half a day: l'éspace d'un matin. Even when they drag along old Auntie to chaperone, the big holding company who pretends to sit in a corner and knit, but is keeping a weather eye on the ledgers: and maybe has a weakness, her weakness. She has her likes and her dislikes, too, just like some old women, some mothers-in-law . . . like times when you want to make the daughter fall for you, but you have to win the mother over first. That's how it is. There are the Platonic ones,