The Red Box

by Laura Sgarella

  The smell of coffee could be smelled from the room nearby. It was the local bar. The young couple made a pause to enjoy something to drink. Araon stepped on the feet of a poor woman in her sixties. She wasn’t happy about Araon’s apologies. Hopefully that accident decided the direction of Araon and Jill into the other rooms of the museum. Araon was a light thinker. He had always in his mind the secret of the blood next to the Sunflowers. Who knew why he was frightened that Jill would reach a conclusion as regards that fact?

  “What’s wrong with you, darling?” said Jill.

  “Nothing wrong sweetheart. I was just considering the utility of further steps into the knowledge of those paintings. If you agree we can go back home now,” answered Araon.

  “I have decided to be that sort of obedient wife, so I’ll do what you want. judge for yourself what is my answer now,” she said.

  “Thank you my dear. I’m happy I haven’t annoyed you. The tour of the museum brought great enjoyment to us but now the rooms are by far too thronged. We must leave as soon as possible,” he said.

  “I don’t understand you but I do what you want. By the way, have you noticed the absence of Albert and Sylvanus? They are always around when there is something new but today, I haven’t seen even their shadow. Who knows what they are doing now! They are quirky and you never know what their intentions are,” said Jill.

  Once having overcome the danger of unveiling the truth Araon took Jill’s hand and drove her out of the museum to catch a taxi to go back home. The Sunflowers were the usual success despite the fact that the day was devoted to paintings from other centuries. And, above all, there were no traces of blood next to it as it was in Araon vicious imagination. Of course, even the imprints of the killer had disappeared. That day’s exhibition came as thunder where Araon could confront himself with the fear of being discovered. It was a genuine April day which must be enjoyed to the utmost.

  Araon never disdained to embark on modest meticulous matters. He never mentioned aloud the name of Christ the Saviour but he loved him with his full heart. Now he had to decide whether to destroy his reputation over his frequent and obsolete investigations. When Jill was tiding up the house, he went clandestinely to the garage where he had hidden the piece of paper with the traces of blood found at the Van Gogh Museum. He believed it would take a while to disconnect the concept of murder from the concept of murderer. He hadn’t found the decomposed corpse yet let alone the murderer. It was the work of a genius to make a corpse disappear in a few minutes in the presence of the museum staff in the other rooms. He had a sort of interest in his social work that could bear an appropriate nickname. The material fabric into which he had wrapped the blood traces was at his absolute disposal. He wanted to be focused on the circumstances of their finding in order to jettison envy over fresh minds such as Doctor Van der Baast’s. The flame of genius didn’t enlighten this mind at the moment. The first approaches to the deeds had been impressive. He was in the position of analyzing the traces of blood without the fear of contamination from foreign bodies by his friend the doctor. Now he started to mutter anti-social propositions over his deeds. He was holding the cloth with the blood like Hamlet was holding his skull. There was something esoteric about it. He had to do nothing but wait. The odour of the weird object made him cough for a while. He didn’t know whether to carry on staying there and meditating. He was not a patient man by nature but he used to do his best to accomplish his work. No peace of mind accompanied him in the following hours. His destiny had already been organized, he had just to obey it. “Jill!” he suddenly shouted. His fear of seeing his wife over there made him stumble and fall. His love for his wife didn’t deserve to be darkened by his clandestine researches.” What a fool! Jill is upstairs tidying up.” He rejoiced. After a long silence, he started talking aloud. “Well, my Hamlet skull is there. I am not here to violate the rules of the game. But I’m here to fight for the truth. This blood has seen a pig. Yes, a pig. It reminds me of the sort of violation that infringed Sharon Tate’s integrity at the time of her assassination by the hands of her killer. For me it’s like writing a poem. I don’t need to scream in search of local resources. Maybe I’m like a priest who is preaching to a throng of non-believers. There is Jill upstairs and this is enough to use my stamina in my proceedings. Yes, I have reached the truth. Pigs were the ultimate ends of the murderer who has hidden very well the body of a dead woman in the outskirts of Amsterdam.” He was in such a hurry that he forgot to clean the traces of blood from the floor.” What were his motives I do not know. Van der Baast must be able to tell me more at the moment but I don’t want to annoy him more. Here is an apple. It tastes wonderful. But nothing compares to the gorgeous lunches that Jill prepares for me, lucky man. I am on cloud nine. But what a pastiche! I’m holding my cloth too tight now. I woke up with the best intentions today but I don’t know how to fulfil them. Maybe it’s time to go upstairs. My imagination has driven me far away. But sometimes I’m crazy. I feel to be the best colleague of Wilbur Smith. But now I shall stop muttering, I’m dealing with an empty stomach. Later on, Van der Baast will be updated about my exploration so far.”

  The following day, some buzz emptied Araon’s mind. Jill was next to him. “Never mind!” he thought aloud.

  “What’s that darling?” was Jill’s immediate reaction.

  “Nothing subtle. I like to play mind games. But let me know: what is your agenda for today?” he said.

  “I’m meant to be with you all the time,” answered Jill.

  “But now you must go shopping as usual. Am I right?”

  “I guessed you would address this sort of question to me. Well, I have done shopping online. So everything is OK. for today. You can buy very cheaply on the internet. But now let me have a shower and I’ll be with you,” she said

  “But wait a minute: what about going to the theatre tonight? There is a sharp interpretation of Hamlet from the Royal Shakespeare Company from London. They are touring the world with this piece and they are making extremely good,” said Araon

  “I’m thrilled, but we shall fill the gap between now and nine o’ clock this evening. It must be all so interesting. But wait a few minutes and I’ll be with you.” said Jill.

  Araon picked up the daily newspaper. Reading the news made him fill the gap between now and Jill coming back from the shower. Some frightening news struck his attention. There had been an assassination attempt of the British prime minister. It was a tough time for British politicians. He went flying with his mind all over: he imagined a secret and feeble link between the British deputy minister and the missing corpse at the Van Gogh Museum. His thoughts wouldn’t reach his lips. “Well, darling I’m ready now,” Jill interrupted him.

  “You are lovely, I can see. So where do you want to go now?”

  “Provided your stomach is not too empty we’ll join our friends at the cable machine.”

  “The cable machine? What is that?”

  “Nothing to be worried about. It’s the name of the new funfair. There are games for children and adults. We will enjoy ourselves a lot.”

  “You have been exhaustive,” said Araon with a kiss to Jill’s lips. They left the flat hand in hand to reach the mysterious place.

  To ride on a luxury boat in an Amsterdam Grand Canal was one of the hobbies that Araon used to undertake together with Jill. “I’m almost frantic and fearful,” cried Jill to an astonished Araon.

  “What’s the matter, darling?” said Araon

  “I just see something fishy in the boat over there,” she said. So Araon asked the steersman to go and approach the small boat and they could witness people sharing precious stones between themselves.

  The pilot went closer and closer to the boat just to listen to what they were saying though it sounded strange that those people were dealing. with their misdeeds in the centre of Amsterdam.

  “Now it’s a pity we haven’t it all,” said the giant man to the ship’s company.

  “We have to be care
ful not to be caught by the police,” said the woman who was probably his wife.

  “I have the list of buyers from all over the world. Let’s go quickly before it’s too late.”

  “Oh, listen. Somebody can hear us from outside. Let’s deal with other things,” she said. They decided to discuss common affairs with a certain nonchalance.

  Araon and Jill were shocked but they hadn’t the courage to dial the police free number. “It’s better we go away,” said Jill.

  “Every word of yours is a command,” answered Araon.

  He shut his mouth purposely and he opted for enjoying a free day with Jill. The pilot accompanied them to the bank of the canal and didn’t ask any charge for that small trip. They mingled with the crowd of the city. They decided not to share with anybody else what they had just witnessed. After all, Araon had constantly in his mind the fixed idea of the traces of blood found in the Van Gogh Museum. He realized that Jill was inspiring. Her crazy attitude towards the thieves of the precious stones reminded him the last analysis of Doctor Van der Baast. Araon observed carefully his wife eyebrows. There was something unusual about them. It was not her beauty that bewitched him but all the feelings she was able to provoke with a modest smile. Sometimes he fell in temptation to drop the curtain and confess to her all the truth about his secret. But this desire lasted a brief moment. He also would have liked to enwrap himself within her arms but this latest temptation was ephemeral as well. “Blood, what blood!” he thought. He imagined the blood cells aspersed in the bodies of the men in the boat. He was always looking for similitudes between the precious stone holders and the mystery of the missing corpse next to the Sunflowers. He liked to say nothing and admire his beautiful wife with immense emotions and feelings. On the contrary to him, Jill was absorbed in more banal thoughts. She was dreaming of being alone with Araon on a paradise beach with the waves of the ocean and the wind as the only companions of adventure.

  Araon was now focused on his future without blemish in addition to the large amount of work and unspeakable wellbeing. He envisioned the decomposed corpse hidden somewhere not a long way from him. He didn’t remember if he had ever talked to Jill about Van der Baast. He was now in a crucial point of his investigation. At a certain point, Jill smiled. It was a matrimonial smile that embarrassed Araon a bit. He answered her with another smile that was hiding high drama. Her ethereal smile reminded Araon of the frivolity of their recent separation. They both closed their eyes and kissed each other divinely. Their love story would never end, this was what Araon was aware of. Nothing could spoil their blessing, that was it. “You don’t need to cry,” said Araon to an excited Jill.

  “I’m not crying, darling. Simply my emotions have overwhelmed me. I can’t stand this situation any longer; we should do something.”

  “Something like working on what we have witnessed”

  “Yes. something like going to the police and telling them what we have seen.”

  “I agree with you. But what if the jewels were their property and not just something stolen!”

  “I do not know what to say. I am just following my instinct. I do not want to be responsible for the whole affair.”

  “I suggest you that we should go and eat an ice cream somewhere. We shouldn’t spoil the tenderness of our best moment of today. I see you with a pearl necklace that suits you very well. The nearest goldsmith has got one for you,” said Araon to interrupt Jill’s suggestions.

  “You are lovely. I’m just concerned with expressing my happiness,” said Jill.

  “We shall go now before it’s too late,” said Araon.

  They immediately crossed the corner and started singing songs of pride. In some time, the people of the precious stones berthed their boat. They got off the bank of the canal and directed themselves towards the hotel on the corner missing their target. They were holding fake documents but the receptionist didn’t realize it. They had their precious stones in their baggage they used to carry with them everywhere. The net value of the jewels must be something like five million euros. They have always get away with it. The wife of the big man went first to the room to hide properly the luggage. She took an apron just as an experiment. She would have liked to be a waitress in her second life. Yes, their lives were split in two parts: one dealing with the underworld, the other dealing with ordinary activities behind which they hid themselves. The magnetic wristwatch she was holding with exuberance signalled the time to contact their allies over the other side of the world. Who could know what happened next?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Van der Baast was very busy that Thursday morning. It was nine o’ clock on the dot when he received a phone call from his friend, a gynecologist, who was sending him a patient with ovarian cancer. He was not at his best having spent the night thinking and thinking over his commitment with Araon. It was a stormy Thursday and that added nostalgic memories to his already busy mind. It was inevitable to think of the Van Gogh Museum missing corpse when dealing with the suffering patient. He didn’t know yet what to do. The woman arrived sweating and panting. She didn’t know the specific reason why she had been sent to that section of the hospital. She was not aware of her diagnosis. She was extremely young and the mother of two kids. She felt so at ease when she met Van der Baast. He was very patient and kind to the ill even if there was the need of not infringing their right to know the truth about the condition of their health. In this case he was silent since they could sort things out without telling the woman. Van der Baast was enlightened with enthusiasm after visiting the woman. He noticed that only one of the ovaries was affected by cancer and it was very easy to be removed from the rest of the body. He studied the case carefully and this made him very optimistic about the healing possibility of the woman. His joy for the result pushed his mind towards the missing corpse in the Sunflowers’ proximity. “Maybe they lost the body after transporting it outside the museum. What a fool: how things like this can happen!” he thought. Maybe he was going too fast in the analysis of the fact. The busy day at the hospital didn’t stop Van der Baast’s activity of monitoring the Van Gogh Museum case. He was reticent and pure. He wanted to be at his best for the sake of his friend, Araon. Between one visit and another he would go to his office to take notes that at the end of the day would make clear the full picture of the situation. He had a pause after a patient vomited during his lunch time. He went to write down the feelings, the sensations and emotions that the situation transmitted to him. He was not sure if that could serve a purpose. It was lunch time, the best moment of the day when he could stay in his private office and turn the pages of his diary. He simply forgot all the illness cases he had to deal with to focus himself on the young lady(lady?) frames of bones and decomposed flesh. While reading his papers he realized that the corpse must have been affected. by a glandular dysfunction which made it decompose little by little since it was carried out of the museum. That clinical picture was quite correct. Araon maybe had always put a bit of imagination in the study of that case but what mattered was that the two friends were close to coming to the same conclusion. If the corpse had disintegrated, what was the point of point of the rest of the story? A knock on his door brought him back to his everyday life. It was a nurse who called him for a stupid matter. A patient had been sick four times that day and they didn’t know how to cope with that. Van der Baast was furious for the frivolity of the accident but in the end, he decided to go and help the patient. He attracted all patients like a magnet and this was the secret of his healing powers. He decided to be committed to his job and leave apart the Van Gogh museum case for a while. He worked hard until the end of the day when he could finally go home and have a deserved rest.