IT HAD BEEN TWO DAYS NOW. SPENDING HER TIME BEHIND THE counter serving coffee and pastries just made her feel as if she were wasting her time. She hadn’t given up, though, and since Sunday she hadn’t stopped calling Corrado’s cell phone. But the answer never varied: “The customer you’re trying to reach isn’t accepting calls at this time.” That morning, Tatiana had also gone back to Via Treviso, in hopes that she could speak to another neighbor, but aside from the two Iezzi sisters, who just kept bickering and trading insults, she hadn’t found anyone else. Corrado’s shutters were still shut tight. Then she’d taken the CPA De Lullo’s old bicycle and she’d ridden up and down every street in Francavilla in search of Corrado’s Fiat Multipla.

Nothing.

“But do you at least remember the license plate number?” Barbara the bookseller asked her as she sipped the last tea of the day. Since the day Pizzuti had disappeared, there had been a new light in Barbara’s eyes. She seemed almost happy to be able to plunge into that mystery worthy of her favorite novels.

“No . . . Wait!” And she ran over to the cash register and flipped through a notebook tucked away underneath it. She found an auto insurance bill and two receipts for premiums paid. “Here we go!” the Russian cried, beaming with satisfaction. She read them.

“Let’s take this to the constables. To Ciro and Luca. If the car has been abandoned somewhere, then they’d have a record of it, right?” said Barbara.

“Good idea!” said Tatiana. Then, like a short sharp punch to the solar plexus, she was struck by a sudden gust of fear. What if they had found the car? Abandoned who knows where? What would that have meant? That Corrado . . . She shook her head to drive away those horrible thoughts. She rushed to the telephone to call the office of the municipal constables. But even before she could dial the number, the constables’ Fiat Punto pulled up in front of the café and parked. Ciro and Luca got out, beaming. They walked in and said hello to Tatiana. “Buonasera, lovely ladies!”

“Buonasera!” the two women replied.

“So, what’s new?” Ciro asked. “Any news about Corrado?”

Tatiana shook her head.

“Could you make us two nice shots of Sambuca?”

Tatiana went behind the counter. “I was just about to call you . . .”

“Why, did you change your mind? Have you decided to go out to dinner with me?” Luca unfurled the most dazzling smile in his repertory.

“We thought it might be best,” Barbara now weighed in authoritatively, well aware that she enjoyed the two officers’ full and unalloyed respect, “if we gave you his license plate number, seeing that the car has vanished, too.”

“Excellent idea, right, Ciro?”