by P J Mann
“Police came to ask a few questions. I have no idea how they figured it out, but they were aware of our relationship right from the beginning, and they knew you’re Madlen’s daughter. I seriously doubt they are suspecting you of any involvement, but we need to be very careful from this moment on. This should be our last call.” Adrenaline rushed in his blood, the last thing he wanted was to be accused of murder and having his life ruined. “The Police need a suspect, and we need to fabricate one,” he added as he waited for Irina to react.
A few interminable seconds passed without an answer from her. She needed to understand at which point they were, and which were the possibilities open to them all. Making sure that only Igor got accused of the murder was perhaps their only chance to get out of this mess.
“What else did they know? Did they ask anything about my background? Do they know about my father?” Her voice started to flicker as she clenched her fist, grabbing the baluster of the balcony, the cold touch of the cast iron sent shivers through her body.
“I’m afraid they went to see your mother before coming here. Do you know whether they might have had any reason to see her? Could it be so, and she told anything that could have brought them our way?” Luciano’s paranoia became unmanageable. He knew this would have happened, yet he let himself get tangled in the story. That was supposed to have an easier outcome.
“I have no idea about it, but I can find it out. However, it’s better if from this moment on, I quit using this telephone. If you need to contact me, use the same messenger we used before. I can check it through another country’s VPN. I will use my father’s telephone to call mom, and see what she has to say about it, but now we all need to keep our nerves steady,” she proposed. “Concerning the culprit, I have thought about it, and arranged everything. All you need to do is keep your poker face. Can you manage this?”
“Of course, you don’t need to worry about me.” The corner of his mouth twitched thinking about the consequences of any faux pas from that moment on.
“I’ll let you know when I’m safely outside the Italian territory. I’ll return back to Hungary, and then I can call you. Nevertheless, this is going to require a longer journey than simply flying there; I need to avoid any border control,” she considered releasing the baluster from her grip. Her mind scanned all the things she had to do. The first one was perhaps that of calling her mother, but to do so she needed the telephone number of her father. From his number, only Igor could have called her, and soon he will also be history, and not a word will come from his mouth, she thought, clenching her teeth.
“Then have a safe trip. I’ll miss you.” That last sentence sounded almost foolish.
“I will miss you, too. There’ll be a time when we can enjoy our life together; we won’t need anyone else,” she whispered, relaxing the tension from her expression, melting into a smile.
Ending communication with her felt like placing thousands of kilometers dividing them. Distances grew endless and time froze into a single moment.
A lump formed in his throat, thinking this was perhaps the way it feels when you have to say goodbye to a loved one. In the silence of the room, he turned his face to look around, feeling lost in a place he couldn’t recognize anymore. The fear of being apart from her in case they would be considered both guilty for the murder of his father grasped his heart with clawed hands, stopping every beat.
He gasped breathlessly, almost collapsing on the bed. “I need to get a grip on my emotions. If the Police keep seeing me this way, it won’t take long before they’ll figure out everything. I can’t allow this to happen, not to me or to Irina.”
He whispered, hoping not to be heard by his mother or by anyone in the world. He wondered whether there was a place where he could have been safe from the view of that nosy Detective Scala and his lousy sidekick.
At that thought he grinned, with the confidence of the man who knew how to get out of this type of situation, sneaking like a shadow in the darkness.
***
Igor reached Irina’s bedroom, knocking at her door. “Are you still there?” he questioned.
Opening the door, she offered him a broad smile, “I am, and you shouldn’t be here listening to my business,” she replied with a pout.
“I wasn’t listening, I wondered whether you wanted to join me for dinner?” he asked.
With a sarcastic giggle she narrowed her eyelids, “Are you asking me to come to dinner or to prepare it?” She knew he wasn’t any good as a cook, the best he could do was to warm some ready-made meal. She didn’t have any memory of them being a family, and the only daily family life was the one she lived with her aunt in Hungary. Nevertheless, this had never been something she missed. Her mother had always been there with her daily calls, her regular visits whenever her job allowed her and with the money she kept sending for her education, clothing and personal expenses.
She wasn’t bitter with her father, for he took care of her as well as always being present. What she couldn’t forgive was the stalking, oppressive, and psychologically stressful behavior forcing her mother to cut the bonds with him and search for safety in the arms of Luciano’s father. Her experiences with the world of males had been nothing but bitterness, and the time for revenging them all had finally arrived. Luciano was probably the only one she still had some respect for.
“You know me, I’m a disaster in the kitchen, but we can order something from the restaurant. I’ll bring you back to France, and I have no idea when I will be able to see you again.” Although the relationship with Madlen didn’t go the way he’d hoped, he still loved both his daughter Irina and Madlen. Certain that if it weren’t for the guy who intruded in their relationship, they’d still have been a family. He deserved to die; nobody gets in between Madlen and me.
“Then we might go out to a restaurant. Let’s have at least one decent meal together. After what happened, I’m not sure I want to be seen here for a long time. It was a risk to return, but it was also necessary to set up everything,” she walked to the door, grabbing her jacket, ready to go out.
Igor followed her, watching every move, and taking in every word she spoke. Irina was completely different from Madlen, as he could see himself in her determination and desire. She was a dangerous concoction between the beauty of Madlen and his strength of will.
If you add her own personal unpredictability to this, you have a bomb ready to blow, and if or when it does, she’ll be able to transform into a cold-blooded killing machine. Nothing and no one can stop her. Shivering at that thought, he wondered whether he should also keep his eyes open on that ticking bomb.
With a fast shake of his head, he put on his coat and opened the door for her, convincing himself and the little voice warning about his daughter, that he should consider himself safe, as partners in crime, generally tend to stick together.
***
It was half past ten, the lights in the Department were dimmed, except for the one in the room of Maurizio.
Leonardo left a few minutes before, and the stillness of the place was interrupted by the noises coming from the streets, the random creaking of old furniture and the flipping of the pages, as he compared his notes.
The noise of footsteps, walking in his direction sharpened his senses. Fewer officers were working at the precinct at that time, and generally they were on the other block, or watching position outside the building. Raising his head, almost holding his breath, he stared at the door, figuring out the direction from where the footsteps were approaching. With a slow movement, he switched off the main light in his room, allowing only the small desk lamp to illuminate the environment.
Slowly he opened the drawer where he kept his Beretta 92FS, and trying to be as silent as possible, he grabbed it.
He stood from the chair, and silently walking in slow motion, he reached the door, which was left ajar by Leonardo. The footsteps crept closer, clicking on the tiled floor, echoing through the walls, as if they were right behind the corner that connected to
the main corridor. The intruder seemed to know where his target was.
Maurizio tightened his grip on the gun, and with his left hand, he reached the main switch of the lights in the secondary corridor.
As he got a glimpse of the foot of the intruder, he switched on the light: “Freeze!”
A loud shout came from the man who turned his face at Maurizio, pointing the gun at him. “For fuck’s sake, Detective Scala, are you going to kill me?” Gennaro, the guy from the cleaning service whimpered breathlessly.
“Gennaro, what in the world are you doing here?” Maurizio released his breath, lowering his Beretta. “I thought you were an intruder!”
“I’m doing my cleaning rounds; I should ask what you are doing here? It’s half past ten.” he regained his breath.
Maurizio glanced at his wristwatch, “I must have lost track of time, I wasn’t considering it was so late. I’m sorry I’ve scared you.”
A relieved smile on Gennaro’s face creased his aging features like a rubber mask. “Commissario, shouldn’t you be home, enjoying the company of your wife and children? The bad guys won’t be stopped by a tired cop, and a neglected wife won’t add an extra bonus to the package. Go back home and rest.”
Grimacing at the thought of Anna, Maurizio shook his head. “You’re right,” he yawned. “I’m going home, will you take care of the rest?”
“As usual, Commissario. Good night, and I hope I won’t see you again like I’ve seen you tonight,” he waved his hand and continued his rounds, whistling in the hope that if there was someone else, he won’t be risking being shot or having a heart attack.
With a long exhale, Maurizio returned to his room, paused his computer, and grabbed his coat, switched off the lights in the room, ready to leave, and bid goodbye to the assassin who was still free to do whatever he wanted in the streets of Rome.
Reaching his apartment at almost midnight, a lump formed in his throat as he crossed the door to the room immersed in darkness and completely still. Although he knew his wife and daughter were already sleeping, that image forced his blood to run cold.
It wasn’t the first time he returned later than usual at home, and certainly it wasn’t the first time he found everyone else sleeping. That was part of his job, and he thought he was used to it.
Without switching on the light, he remained for a moment in the darkness, until his eyes got accustomed to the dim illumination coming from the windows. Tiptoeing, he reached the couch, slipping off the jacket, and sat down; he wasn’t ready to go to sleep. The thousands of thoughts and unanswered questions would have kept him from falling asleep, resulting in tossing and turning on the bed.
Leaning on the couch, reclining his head, and closing his eyes, he tried to visually reconstruct what had happened the night of the murder. Like in a movie he could almost see Claudio coming inside the apartment like he did a moment ago, in the darkness, trying not to wake up his son.
A telephone call, from a hidden number from a foreign prepaid sim card, he started to recall. Fuck! There must be a way to know who owned that prepaid sim card!
He clenched his fist, in the desperate attempt to understand the dynamics of the murder.
Calm, stay calm, he repeated to himself. Now the caller must have been a person he knew and for whom he would have left immediately. Madlen comes to my mind. At that time of the night, nobody else could have given him a good reason to leave the house.
His eyes opened wide, realizing a thought he might have missed.
Madlen’s ex-husband! What if he told him he was going to kill Madlen if he wouldn’t have come immediately to an established place? That could be the only solution, therefore we need to get our hands on the man before it’s too late.
He stood up from the couch and reached the room he used as a studio. There, he switched on the computer, and connected securely to the main server of the Police Department.
He searched through the archives of the mobile phones they’ve obtained the full log. He hoped to find something in Madlen’s one. The idea that her ex-husband was guilty, not only of the psychological abuses and stalking but also of the murder of Mr. Calvani, started to make sense.
Going through the whole list would have taken the rest of the night, but on the other hand, there wasn’t any chance he could have done anything else but think.
It’s useless, here there isn’t any telephone number which... hold on! he thought as his eyes stopped at something interesting. Here’s another unknown number. Another prepaid sim card...
Getting closer to the screen, he searched for more information about the call. Of course, the owner couldn’t be traced, but according to the search, the location was in Rome. He went through all the contacts he could find in Madlen’s phone directory, and that particular number wasn’t stored. Nevertheless, she received several calls from that number, and I’m wondering why she didn’t save it. The provider is foreign, but according to the GPS, the phone was in Rome. Could it be a glitch or perhaps it was the number belonging to her husband? Who else could have been the caller? Her daughter? Why?
He held his head between his hands, clenching his fists, grabbing and pulling his hair. I’ll go crazy! Why didn’t I choose an easier job? Why a Police Officer, and why would I even want to pursue a career further to become a detective?
Listening to his heart racing in his chest, his eyes raised once again to the screen and his attention was caught by the clock, which read 02:00 am.
***
Like every morning, Anna woke up at seven, at the insistent ringing of the alarm clock, perfectly corresponding with the calls of Giovanna from the adjacent room.
With a curse, she opened her eyes and noticed that Maurizio didn’t come to bed at all. “I’ll figure out this one too, but first, I need to get the second alarm switched off,” she muttered, standing up from the bed. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” she said sleepily, limping to the room where Giovanna was insistently calling for her.
“Would you ever give me some time?” She groaned, taking Giovanna in her arms.
With a sigh, she needed to figure out what happened to Maurizio. Reaching the living room, she noticed his jacket on the couch.
“At least he returned home,” she said, glancing around. “Let’s see if we can find him in the studio.”
“Bingo!” she said aloud as she spotted Maurizio asleep on the chair in front of the computer.
“Detective Scala, are you sleeping on duty?” she yelled.
With a jolt as if he’d been tasered, he stood from the chair like a spring, “No, Sir!” he replied.
Realizing where he was and Anna laughing at him, he relaxed his posture and expression. “Fuck! You almost gave me a heart attack.”
He glanced back at the chair, “I fell asleep and didn’t realize it. Yesterday evening I almost killed Gennaro, one of the workers of the cleaning company.”
“Why? Did you fall asleep at work too?” She giggled, playing with Giovanna’s hair.
“No, I lost track of time, and when he started his rounds, I thought he was an intruder.”
“How hilarious, an intruder at the Police Department,” her sarcastic tone was palpable.
“You can laugh about it, but this wouldn’t be the first time that some punk got caught trying to intrude on our premises.” He switched off the computer and started to walk to the bathroom to have a shower. He kissed Anna and caressed Giovanna before leaving the room, “I love you two, madly.”
“And we love you back, isn’t it so, Giovanna?”
The little girl with a giggle nodded, watching her father leaving the room.
CHAPTER 15
It took a couple of extra strong coffees to get Maurizio started the next day before he arrived at the Department, allowing him to be ready to add more pieces to the puzzle. Before reaching his office, he directed himself to the room adjacent to his own, where senior officer Sandra Milani and officer Carlo Silvani, the two agents helping him, were trying to get through the long list of da
ta.
“I need your help, urgently!” he commenced, justifying the reason for his irruption into the room. “I need to identify Madlen Fazekas’ ex-husband. I need his present location and telephone number, and I needed them yesterday! I want to talk to him as soon as possible.”
“I’ll be right on it,” Senior officer Milani said. “As I get the info, I’ll forward it to you, although this might take longer than yesterday.”
A smirk appeared on Maurizio’s face, “Let’s try it anyway, ok?” Without waiting for any reply, he rushed to his room. He wasn’t sure what he wrote last night, before falling asleep, but certainly the notes he remembered having written would have cast some light on the case.
From the glass wall, he spotted Leonardo as he was walking to the common room to get a coffee. “LEO!” he yelled as he quickened his steps to reach him.
“What’s wrong with you. Have you been sampling coke confiscated by the anti-narcotics?” he chuckled, watching Maurizio.
“I barely closed an eye last night; I’ve been working until late evening and I continued from home until I fell asleep on the computer. I’ll take a holiday when this is over,” grimacing he recalled the incident.
“Yeah, I just met Gennaro, who was going home. I guess everybody should know how you almost gave him a heart attack,” his finger poked teasingly at Maurizio’s shoulder. “However, what have you found out?”
They resumed the walk to the common room, “I haven’t found out anything yet, but I noticed a few phone calls from a mobile phone here in Rome. The number is from a foreign operator to the number of Ms. Fazekas, probably from Russia. I bet everything I have it’s a prepaid sim card, so finding the owner won’t be possible, I guess we could ask Ms. Fazekas about it. My first thought was that it could belong to her ex-husband, which I ordered Senior officer Milani to identify.” Maurizio’s tone of voice was feverish.
“So, I think we should start to put the pieces together, including that man,” Leonardo added. “Everything considered, he could have the best motive of all to kill Mr. Calvani.