Voice of the Violin (Inspector Montalbano Mysteries) [Paperback]

The Voice of the Violin is deftly written. It captures all of the confusing elements of a disjointed case in which the clues are deeply hidden. I didn't tumble to the full scale of the mystery until quite near the end, when Mr. Camilleri chose to make it transparent. Here's a sample of the writing from the opening paragraph: "Inspector Salvo Montalbano could immediately tell that it was not going to be his day." " . . . [T]he darkness was already lifting . . . to reveal . . . a sea that looked like a Pekingese dog." "Ever since a tiny dog of that breed . . . had bitten painfully into his calf . . . Montalbano saw the sea this way whenever it was whipped up." "His mood darkened . . . . He had to attend a funeral."

The story opens with Montalbano's futile efforts to attend that funeral in Floridia, after receiving a mangled telephone message from the ever annoying Catarella. In a day that resembles a frustration dream, Montalbano misses the funeral. The only effect of his journey is to have Gallo's efforts to evade a chicken cause the police car to clip a passenger car. Leaving a note on the car's windshield, Montalbano becomes curious when no one calls the station about making repairs. He visits the house where the car is parked and finds no one at home. As this recurs, he decides to let himself in at night with his picklocks. He finds a sight that sickens him; a beautiful nude woman has been murdered in her bed.

From there, the story takes on a Keystone Kops-like character. Montalbano must arrange for the victim to be discovered without revealing his own illegal actions. With aplomb, he recruits an anonymous phone caller and cynically decides to save his own time by calling the judge, forensics team and coroner about the body before even arriving at the house. Once there, he's sickened again by the way the policemen react to seeing the bare woman. Going against police procedures, but following his heart, he covers her with a bathrobe. That mistake leads to powerful consequences when his changing of the crime scene causes him to be removed from the case. An incompetent investigation follows that centers on a half-wit stalker. When that investigation takes a terrible turn, Montalbano calls all of his colleagues together and swears them to secrecy . . . they are taking over the investigation on their own, but it must be done totally covertly.

Montalbano finds the case to be mystifying. Why is the beautiful young wife of an older successful doctor spending all of her time alone in Sicily building a house that he never visits? The victim also seems to have acted uncharacteristically on the day of her death. Why? The men in her life all make a bad impression on Montalbano at first. A lot of valuable jewelry is missing. Is this a theft that led to a murder or a murder disguised by a theft? It's isn't clear until near the end.

In the background, Montalbano finds himself attracted to the victim's friend, Anna, who reciprocates the attraction. Livia is pressing Montalbano on his promise of marriage . . . but from a distance, and the efforts to adopt Francois are being delayed by legal problems which are driving Livia wild.

The story also has a fine comic subplot line based on Catarella's taking computer lessons which have a surprising impact on him.

I enjoyed the new character in the series, Cataldo Barbera. He's a violin virtuoso who lives a hermit's existence . . . and plays an unusual private performance for his neighbor on Friday mornings.

The book is flawed, however, by having an improbable plot in many dimensions that I found annoying. More seriously, there's a cynical view of human nature expressed here that I found powerful, but disgusting to contemplate. If you are like me, you will find the ultimate description of the murder's method and its motive to be repulsive.

The book falls far below the promise of that astonishingly fine book, The Terra-Cotta Dog, and The Snack Thief. If you read only one book in this series, make it The Terra-Cotta Dog.

Clearly, Mr. Camilleri wanted this book to speak to us about the consequences of what we do. Our actions do make a difference. He succeeded very well in making that point. I finished the book wondering about how my life would have been different if I had done things in other ways in the past. It's a thought worth considering. If that point had not come across so well, I would have graded this book at three stars . . . despite its superb writing.