‘Yes, Hunkar Begendi.’
‘The papers were full of it. We all prayed for His Holiness.’
‘And the prayers were obviously answered because the pope recovered.’
‘What an exciting life you lead. There could be some substance to all those stories about you on the internet after all, don’t you think?’
‘Perhaps. Who knows?’ said Jack, a sparkle in his eyes. ‘Ah, saved by dinner. Here comes our meal now.’
After their plates had been cleared away and they were well into their second bottle of wine, Jack broached the subject that had brought him to Rome to meet Bartolli. ‘I don’t know how much Lapointe has told you …’
‘Not much,’ said Bartolli.
‘I see, then let me start from the beginning: it all revolves around a mystery.’
‘What kind of mystery?’
‘Why would a convicted killer serving a life sentence want to talk to someone he has never met or had any contact with, and ask the authorities to arrange a meeting because he has some important new information about the case that is somehow linked to that person?’
‘And that person is you?’
‘Yes. Can you help me with that? I’ve read your report.’
‘I understand there was a letter?’
Jack reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper and placed it on the table in front of Bartolli. ‘Yes, this is it here.’
Bartolli put on her glasses again and read the short, handwritten note aloud: ‘After several years of frustration and despair, I have finally cracked the Death Mask killer cipher code, bringing new, vital information to light that has a direct bearing on my conviction. I hereby request that an urgent meeting be arranged with Mr Jack Rogan, the Australian author who was recently involved in solving the Ritz murder case. I will only disclose the information contained in the cipher to Mr Rogan, because he has helped me crack the code, and will therefore understand the full meaning and implications of this new information.’
Bartolli took off her glasses and sat back, lost in thought. ‘How strange,’ she said, looking at Jack.
‘It is. You know about the cipher?’
‘I do. It was in all the papers. That too was quite weird and unexpected at the time, but to me it made perfect sense.’
‘How so?’
‘Because I always believed that the real killer wasn’t Landru, but someone else. The sudden appearance of the cipher, which in essence is a puzzle, some kind of challenge, further supported my earlier views.’
‘What kind of views?’
‘That Landru’s profile just didn’t fit the facts of the case. Far from it. There were too many anomalies. The evidence in the case that ultimately convicted Landru appeared contrived; very cleverly so, I admit, but manufactured, nevertheless. But the French authorities didn’t want any part of this. The pressure was enormous, especially on Lapointe, who was the arresting officer in charge of the case. Dupree had retired years earlier, but he had been closely involved with the murders, which straddled many years. As far as the authorities were concerned they had their killer, and that was that. My concerns were all in my report, which as you obviously know was brushed aside and my involvement terminated. I was shut out and told to go away.’
‘Dupree told me.’
‘He was the only one who had similar doubts about the case. While he was no longer with the police at the time – at least not officially – Lapointe brought him in, nevertheless, to assist with the investigation.’
‘What do you make of this cipher? Do you think it’s a hoax, or something more? Something relevant to the case, perhaps, as Landru seems to suggest?’
‘Until we find out more it’s difficult to say, but if you ask my opinion, I would be very surprised if it wasn’t genuine.’
‘Please, let me get this straight,’ said Jack, looking intently at Bartolli. ‘Landru isn’t the killer in the Death Mask Murders case, but has somehow been framed by the real murderer. A year after Landru’s conviction, the real killer leaves a mysterious cipher behind in Landru’s cell with a note that suggests the cipher contains all the answers to the case. How am I doing so far?’
‘Fine.’
‘Why would the killer do this? Why revive the case by adding another chapter, or perhaps even risk exposure by calling Landru’s conviction into question? I just don’t get it.’
‘That’s a far more complicated question. Until we find out more about the cipher and what it says, it isn’t possible to be analysing this constructively.’
‘Fair enough.’
Jack reached for the bottle again and refilled Bartolli’s glass. He knew the right moment had arrived.
‘Would you be interested in becoming involved?’ said Jack, asking the question that had been on his mind the whole evening.
‘In what way?’
‘Nothing to do with the authorities. Nothing formal. I would like to engage you personally, to help me solve this mystery and unravel this puzzle.’
‘In my capacity as a …?’
‘Professional profiler. I want to draw on your vast experience and your previous knowledge of the case.’
‘Material for another book?’
‘You see? That’s why I want you involved. You’ve just met me and I’m an open book to you already.’
‘I have to think about it. I would like to go over my old notes again first.’
‘Understandable. I haven’t given Lapointe my final answer yet, either.’
‘What answer?’
‘Whether I will meet with Landru. I wanted to talk to you first. And then there was one more thing.’
‘What?’
‘I want to track down the psychic who was consulted at the time and talk to him as well, before I give my final answer.’
Bartolli looked at Jack, surprised. ‘Good idea. I can help you there.’
‘You can?’
‘Yes. The psychic you are talking about was one of the most extraordinary people involved in this investigation. In fact, as far as I was concerned he was the most fascinating aspect of the entire case.’
‘In what way?’
‘It’s complicated. His name is Acrivos Papadoulis, a simple shepherd from Ithaca.’
‘The home of the intrepid Ulysses?’
‘Quite. I had come across him years before this case during my studies here in Rome. A most fascinating and unique man. Simple, pious, but with an extraordinary gift. One of our lecturers invited him to come to our tutorial and talk to us about his work. I’ve never forgotten the experience. It stayed with me ever since and taught me to always keep an open mind. And then I met him again, years later in the Death Mask Murder case.’
‘What a coincidence.’
‘Perhaps, or something more?’
‘Destiny?’
Bartolli raised her eyebrows. ‘I wouldn’t have expected to hear this from you. But then again, it’s all in your book.’
‘You said you could help me here?’ said Jack, trying to steer the conversation back to the most pressing question on his mind.
‘Yes. I’ve kept in touch with Papadoulis over the years after the case. He’s no longer doing this kind of work. In a way, he has withdrawn from the world of crime, but I know where you can find him.’
‘You do? Where is he now?’
‘He’s a monk at Mount Athos in Greece.’
‘Amazing. Do you think he would be prepared to see me?’
‘Are you prepared to go there, just to talk to him?’
‘Absolutely. The sooner the better.’
‘I’ll get in touch with him and let you know. It won’t be easy, but I’ll give it a go.’
Jack reached across the table and placed his hand on Bartolli’s. ‘Thank you. I really mean it.’
‘This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?’
‘It does.’
‘Why?’
Jack smiled at Bartolli. ‘Destiny?’ he ventured.
‘Ah, that word again. Wh
at are you doing tomorrow?’
‘Catching an early train to Venice.’
‘Paying Tristan and Lorenza a visit?’
‘Exactly. I haven’t seen them for far too long.’
‘Is that all?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘In some ways you are an open book, you know. At least to me. If Papadoulis should agree to a meeting, you will take Tristan along, right?’
Jack looked nonplussed. ‘As you can obviously read my thoughts, you would also be aware just how grateful I am for—’
‘Don’t mention it. I had a fabulous evening, thank you. And I promise to let you know about becoming involved. Soon.’
Bartolli looked at her watch. ‘Good heavens, is it that time already? I really must go! If I don’t get home before my daughters’ curfew, they will never let me forget it.’
‘I understand. Do you have a car, or can I arrange a taxi for you?’
‘No, thank you. But you can carry my violin case to my Vespa. It’s parked just outside on the footpath. It’s totally illegal, but everyone does it. I only hope no-one’s pinched my helmet; this is Rome after all. I’ll call you tomorrow.’
5
Venice: 29 September
Jack decided to catch the slower vaporetto rather than take a water taxi. Instead of calling Tristan to let him know he was coming, he had opted once again for surprise. This was typical Jack. After the four-hour early morning train ride from Rome, it felt good to take in the bustle of the Canal Grande, with all the excitement and usual tourist chaos on the busy waterways that were Venice. It also gave him some time to consider how best to approach the subject that had brought him to the floating city of canals. After last time, he had some misgivings about asking Tristan to accompany him to Mount Athos.
As the vaporetto approached the Rialto Bridge, his stop, Jack remembered his earlier visit that year. What had brought him to Venice on that occasion just a few months after Tristan and Lorenza’s wedding in the Vatican, was Professor Stolzfus’s dramatic abduction in London while attending the funeral of Steven Hawking in Westminster Abbey. What had followed was an extraordinary sequence of events that had taken Jack halfway around the globe and, but for Tristan’s help, could have cost him his life.
However, it had also brought unexpected joy: in South America, Jack had found his long-lost mother whom he had been searching for in Africa. This had marked the beginning of a new, albeit somewhat unsettling chapter in his life. Suddenly, he was no longer alone. He had a family and a past to discover that he didn’t know he had. For someone like Jack, this was a disconcerting realisation he was still trying to come to terms with.
As Jack stepped onto the familiar wharf, he realised that his visit would have its challenges. He was once again in Venice to try to enlist Tristan’s help in solving a perplexing mystery. Unusual stories and challenges seemed to find Jack, not the other way around, and then drew him in, irresistibly, until he reached a point of no return. Jack called it destiny; others called it the escapades of a hopeless adventure junkie hooked on adrenaline, who got high on exposure to extreme danger. The truth was most probably somewhere in between.
Jack was in two minds about approaching Tristan again so soon, and thereby intruding into his new life. He knew Tristan was restless, and Lorenza also knew this. But she also realised how much Jack meant to her husband and how much Tristan missed him. He was a different man when he was with Jack. Lorenza envied their closeness, but despite all that she was very fond of Jack and in no way resented him. As someone who loved Tristan deeply, she realised that Jack filled a need in him that she couldn’t, and resisting it would be a grave mistake that could have dire consequences for their marriage. For that reason, she accepted their friendship and the fact that from time to time they needed to be together, because they had a special bond that ran very deep.
As soon as Jack walked into the elegant foyer of the sixteenth-century Palazzo da Baggio, with its magnificent paintings and tapestries that had been in the family for centuries, he remembered his last visit as he approached the reception desk. On that occasion, the haughty receptionist had given him the cold shoulder because she had no idea who he was; he didn’t look like one of the well-heeled patrons who frequented the exclusive hotel. This time, however, she looked up and smiled as soon as she recognised Jack.
‘Ah, the famous author returns. Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake again,’ she said. ‘Are they expecting you?’
‘No.’
‘I thought as much. Tristan has gone out, but Lorenza is in the kitchen. I’ll tell her you’re here.’
‘No need. I’ll tell her myself. I know the way.’
The receptionist shrugged. ‘As you wish. A room with a view and a table for one, like last time?’ she teased and gave Jack a coquettish look.
‘Perhaps. But first let’s see if I’m welcome.’
Hunched over a long marble kitchen bench running along the wall under the windows overlooking the canal, Lorenza had her nose in a cookbook and was furiously taking notes.
‘Working on a new menu? Good. You can experiment on me. I’m starving!’
Lorenza looked up. ‘Jack! What a wonderful surprise!’ She walked over to Jack and gave him a kiss and a hug. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
Jack detected a hint of sadness in Lorenza and looked at her, concerned. ‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, sensing some disquiet and unease not only in her voice, but in her demeanour as well.
‘You’re just like Tristan. You pick up on moods and speak your mind.’
‘Is that such a bad thing?’
‘No. It’s refreshing. Honesty is always refreshing. You’re right. I’m worried about Tristan.’
‘Why?’
‘Later. What brings you here, unannounced as usual?’
Jack shrugged. ‘You know what I’m like. I want to run something past Tristan.’
‘Ah. As long as it isn’t like last time. You said you wanted to borrow him for a few days, remember? And look what happened. He stayed away for weeks and both of you were almost—’
‘I know.’
‘Don’t worry, Jack. You’ve come at a good time.’
‘In what way?’
‘Tristan is …’
‘What about him?’
Lorenza looked at Jack, tears in her eyes. ‘Unhappy,’ she blurted.
Jack put his arms around Lorenza and held her tight. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘He’s restless. He doesn’t fit in here. This isn’t him. This is my dream, not his. While we were renovating the place and setting up the restaurant, he was in his element. He loved it. But now ...’
Jack gave Lorenza another hug, but didn’t say anything. He knew this was a time to listen, not to talk.
‘He and my father get on famously, but Papa’s travelling now. He’s rarely here. He still hasn’t come to terms with losing Mama and my brother in what we now know wasn’t an accident, but a Mafia hit—’
‘Because your grandparents refused to cooperate with the Gambios in Florence with the property sale?’ interjected Jack.
‘Quite. I don’t think he can get over that.’
‘Understandable. It was quite a shock to find out what happened, and why.’
‘Welcoming guests, playing the host, answering questions about his famous wife who people have come to see, it just isn’t Tristan. You of all people must know that.’
Because Jack knew there was some truth to all this, he realised he had to choose his words carefully. ‘Every marriage needs adjustment, especially a high-profile one like yours. Give it time. I know he loves you, that’s what really matters here. Nothing else counts. I’m sure of it.’
‘And I love him, more than I can express; that’s why I so desperately want him to be happy.’
‘We both want that.’
‘I know. He’s happy when he’s with you. Surely you can see that.’
‘I can. That doesn’t mean he’s unhappy with you.’<
br />
‘I suppose not. It’s just …’
‘What?’
‘He’s a little lost right now. He was on such a high during the entire Stolzfus matter. He found it hard to adjust after that.’
‘He wasn’t the only one, I can tell you. I’ll talk to him. Where is he?’
‘He’s working on a project.’
‘What kind of project?’
‘Because our guests always ask about our adventures, the abduction here in Venice and all the Mafia bits the papers wrote about, he decided to prepare a tour.’
‘What kind of tour?’
‘Well, since the release of your book about all this—’
‘Professor K: The Final Quest?’
‘Yes, there’s been huge interest in the subject. Our guests want to visit all the places here in Venice mentioned in the book.’
‘The Gallerie dell’Accademia, where you were abducted and Tristan attacked and left for dead under a bridge, and the Cimitero di San Michele where you were imprisoned in one of the crypts?’
‘Yes, and quite a few more locations. And he wants to use his boat to ferry the tourists around and make it part of the tour.’
‘The Riva Aquarama with the two-hundred-and-fifty horsepower Cadillac engines that James Bond would kill for? That should be a hit; great idea. And he has an arts degree from the Sorbonne. Could come in handy.’
‘That’s what I said. I hope it works and gives him some – how shall I put it? – purpose, I suppose.’
Jack nodded.
‘I’ll give him a call,’ continued Lorenza. ‘He’ll be thrilled to see you. He’s in St Mark’s Square, working on the tour. He took the boat, so I can’t drop you off.’
‘No matter. I’ll take the vaporetto and meet him at the wharf.’
‘I won’t tell him you’re here. You can surprise him. I’ll just tell him that someone wants to talk to him urgently and will meet him at the wharf.’
Jack smiled. ‘He’ll know as soon as you call him; watch.’
‘All right, let’s see.’
Lorenza reached for her phone and called Tristan.
‘There’s someone here who would like to talk to you urgently, darling. It’s about what you—’
The Death Mask Murders Page 4