The Year of the Mantis

by P J Mann

  Without hesitating a second further, Maurizio hurried toward the door, determined to find out that little detail in the shortest time possible. It was half past noon, and people were either going to the canteen for lunch or returning from there. Maurizio didn’t feel his stomach complaining. He wouldn’t have had the time to eat, and besides, he wouldn’t have been able to stay away from the case.

  Senior officer Milani followed him, trying to keep up with the speed as he was walked the corridor. She was trying to avoid stumbling into other people, meanwhile in Maurizio’s case, it was the ones who tried to stay out of his path.

  Taking the car to the Forensic Department, he stormed into the room where Leonardo was working, “I need Luciano’s email log!” he demanded.

  Not impressed, as usual, Leonardo hardly raised his eyes from the computer, “Hey, easy does it, man!”

  Narrowing his eyes, hardly containing the rage that started welling from his guts, Maurizio clenched his fists. “Please, would you be so kind and give me the files with all the emails of Mr. Calvani junior?” His teeth clenched together as if to contain the demon wishing to exit his body and kill Leonardo.

  Slowly raising his glance to Maurizio, he smirked. “You look like a mad dog. Cool down man, and breathe, or you’ll pass out.” Standing from his chair Leonardo chuckled, amused. He loved to tease Maurizio every time the occasion was presented to him, and in their job, with Maurizio hot-tempered, these occasions happened regularly.

  With a low-pitched growl, Maurizio remained silent, waiting for Leonardo to hand him the material, and as Leonardo approached him with the memory stick, where he copied the email log data, he snatched it from his hands and without any other word spoken, he left the room, not caring whether Senior officer Milani would have followed him. To be honest, hearing her giggles, made his blood boil further, and he hoped she would have remained there until he was ready to return, once a civilized human being again.

  Remembering the call received from Berenice about a thief, Maurizio tried to calm his hot temper and returned to Leonardo’s room.

  “Just one question, though. What about the intruder in Calvani’s apartment, do we have any results?” he asked.

  “Oh right, I almost forgot about it. Yes, we have the results, but nothing conclusive came out of it,” Leonardo replied. “Apparently, whoever came inside the apartment that day had been extremely careful of not leaving any trace.”

  “So, nothing to report,” Maurizio pointed out, with a grunt.

  “Unfortunately not, but we can say that at least someone intruded in the apartment as nobody from my team left the window open.” Leonardo shrugged.

  Knowing the discussion wouldn’t have led anywhere, besides him getting sourer than he was before, Maurizio, turned and hurried to the door, mumbling curses meant to be heard only by himself. Pacing through the corridors, his mind got clearer with the increasing distance between him and Leonardo, and as he reached his room, instead of slamming the door behind him, the way he planned, he closed it gently.

  He completely forgot about Senior officer Milani, and at that moment, it didn’t even matter whether she would have reached him in his office to continue what they started. Nevertheless, as he sat down at his desk, he recalled she’d mentioned having two good pieces of news to give. He was almost tempted to go and ask her about it, but focusing on the little black memory stick, he reconsidered it.

  It’s better if I’m now going through this log and solve it whether they exchanged emails during that period of telephone silence. If I don’t find any emails, we’ll need to go through all the most recent call logs and see whether we can find another prepaid number he’d been calling or from which he has received calls.

  He turned to the window, observing the soft rain falling with its gentle trickling against the glass. Looking at the sky, he could predict that shortly the sun would have shone again, as small patches of blue started to appear here and there, promising fairer weather for the evening. With a sigh, he released the last bits of bitterness left from the encounter with Leonardo, and with a relaxed expression he opened the file, and started going through all the recipients.

  It didn’t take much time to spot the email address of Irina and isolating them from all the others; he started to go through the entire content. Something that didn’t sound right was the change in the tone of their emails from October onward. They sounded more like the ones he was sending to his mother-in-law for Christmas or birthday greetings. They were forced, stiff, unnatural.

  “Then, without even saying goodbye, or having a reason that could indicate a rupture in their relationship, the email communications quit. The last phone call was recorded in December, before Christmas. The last email was dated the second of January. If they ended their relationship, this would have happened by phone or in person, and after that, there wouldn’t have been any other connection, not by email or telephone or any other means,” Maurizio mumbled as he went through the emails between the supposedly lovebirds.

  With his eyes fixed on the screen, it was vital for him to go deeper into their relationship. “It’s clear enough they are hiding something. I don’t dare to say you were involved in the murder, but your position is fairly suspicious.”

  Grabbing the phone on his desk, he dialed Senior officer Milani’s number.

  “Hello, I thought you wanted to remain alone,” Senior officer Milani justified herself as she answered the phone call. She knew that in other cases, she was required to follow Maurizio to continue from where they interrupted. Yet she knew that when he had an argument with Leonardo, it wasn’t safe to come closer to him without wearing protective armor.

  A smile showed up on Maurizio’s face; he was aware of the way he looked, and it was true when he said that he looked like a mad dog. He also felt like one.

  “There’s no need to apologize, I was going through the emails between Luciano and Irina, and I would like you to collect all the call logs from yesterday to and from Luciano’s mobile phone. Do you think you can manage this task for tomorrow morning?” His contrite tone was something Senior officer Milani wasn’t used to. During demanding cases like the one they were working at, he was constantly in a bad mood, and there wasn’t any chance for him to admit he was wrong.

  She hesitated for a moment, trying to understand whether she was still talking with Commissario Maurizio Scala, or to someone who’d taken his place. “Umm, I think I can do better,” she stated. “I can give you the phone call log until the end of February and ask to have a more recent one. You will have it by tomorrow at noon, probably.”

  “Oh, that’s fantastic. Please send it to me, and let’s make sure we’ll get it in real time.”

  “Sure, I’m doing it right away...”

  “And one more thing,” Maurizio recalled she had something more to tell. “You were mentioning another bit of news, but then we completely forgot about it. What was it?”

  “Yes,” she recalled. “It was about Igor Leonov, Ms. Fazekas’ ex-husband and Irina’s father. Together with the sheets I gave you today there’s his address, mobile phone and so on. I could find and gather all the data about him, together with the criminal records.” She took a pause to give Maurizio the time to digest the information she was giving. “It seems like he isn’t an angel, and during his youth, he’d been in jail for drug and weapons dealing. However, after he married Ms. Fazekas, he wasn’t charged nor suspected of any illegal activity. The only time police had been called to intervene was prior to their divorce. Ms. Fazekas accused him of repeated stalking, oppressive behavior, and psychological violence. Therefore, she asked for divorce and obtained a restraining order, after which things regained some sort of calm for a certain period. He never took any action besides calling her once or twice asking about him. Everything is filed in the papers I’ve printed for you.”

  Open-mouthed, words failed him, except, “Do you realize we have just found a person who was close to the crime scene, had a good motive to kill Claudio Ca
lvani, had the chance and connections to get the murder weapon?” Scratching his head, he stood from his chair and reached the table where the sheets of paper given by Senior officer Milani lay. “I will ask for an arrest warrant; this man is as guilty as sin.”

  Without waiting for her to reply, he ended the conversation and gathered all the papers. Taking a fast look at them to understand what he had in his hands, he rushed to the chief commissioner’s office. At that moment, he’d felt so close to the solution of the case and the fact of bringing another criminal to justice, which in that particular situation would have opened a case with the Russian embassy too as Igor, had double citizenship.

  Without hesitating for a moment, he arrived in front of the door of chief Commissioner Angelini. He gave it two hard knocks.

  “Yeah!” He growled from the room.

  “Sir, we need to ask for an arrest and search warrant. We might have found the person who has murdered Mr. Calvani!” Maurizio blurted, coming inside and closing the door behind him.

  “Well, that’s good news, and may I also be informed about the identity of the man or woman we need to ask it for? I would also appreciate having a good idea about the grounds for such a request,” Angelini replied with a grin on his face, placing his hands on the desk, fingers entwined.

  Shaking the sheets of papers mid-air, he placed them on the desk in front of the chief commissioner. “This man, Mr. Igor Leonov, Ms. Fazekas ex-husband,” Maurizio began to explain, taking a seat on the chair in front of the desk.

  Crossing his legs, he continued, “As you can also read, Mr. Leonov arrived in Italy with his family as a teenager. He’d been quite restless since then, coming in and out of jail for small crimes, in the beginning, and onto drugs and weapons dealing after. The encounter with Ms. Fazekas, seemed to be the event that led him on the right path of honesty. Yet, his restless soul couldn’t be contained, and he’d been depicted as a possessive, oppressive husband that caused them to divorce after the birth of their daughter, Irina. That time Mr. Leonov was, once again brought to the attention of the police for stalking, which presented him with a restraining order. Because of Ms. Fazekas’ job as a stripper in a night club, they decided to send the daughter to live with her aunt back in Hungary.”

  Maurizio stood from the chair and, as he generally would do, started to pace around the room. “We have a man whose jealousy could have led him to extreme acts of violence, who could have access to the murder weapon, and who was living in the same city as the victim. Do you need another reason for asking for a warrant, or do you consider yourself satisfied with these?”

  Creasing his forehead, chief commissioner Angelini, lazily grabbed the sheets of paper in his hands, and started to read what Maurizio had just explained in words.

  A few moments of silence lasted for almost an eternity, torturing Maurizio’s thoughts as if there was the chance that his superior would have found a detail to invalidate his reasoning.

  Slowly placing the papers back on the table, Angelini looked to Maurizio. “Detective Scala, you’re making progress. I will provide you the warrants you’re asking, and in the meantime, I wish you will try and locate him. If there’s a telephone number, call it. Find where his family lives and his circle of friends. Try to search for something more about him from those people close to him. Also, the most dangerous terrorist has someone to love and friends who care. Find them and let them talk about him. By the time you’ve found the man, you will also have the warrants in your hands, not only to arrest him for interrogation as the main suspect in the murder of Mr. Calvani, but also the means to search his house.”

  Like a stone falling from his heart, Maurizio felt intoxicated by his words, and didn’t have any other desire than to follow the orders and find that man as if that was the last thing he’d done in his life. “Will be done, Sir.”

  Quickening his steps, he returned to his room and started to coordinate the tasks among the members of his team.

  CHAPTER 18

  The warrants arrived quite soon, even before Maurizio or anyone on his team could connect with Igor Leonov. The man had simply disappeared into oblivion, which gave him the feeling that either they were on the right path and the man decided to flee, or like the little voice from the back of his head kept yelling, the situation was far more complex than they could have thought.

  “I think there’s no other way than go and search his apartment. So far nobody answered, when our officers reached there,” he said to himself, staring out the window. With a growl, he stood from his chair, from which he felt like having spent his whole life and walked to the room where senior officer Sandra Milani and officer Carlo Silvani were working.

  He was looking for someone to go with him to try once again ringing Igor’s doorbell, and in case nobody would have answered, they would have come inside anyway. They had the warrant for searching the entire place.

  Generally, he would have asked Leonardo to come with him, but since Chief Commissioner Angelini usually frowned at that decision, Maurizio considered asking one of those who stood by the rules were supposed to go with him.

  He considered whether to call the forensic team or not. So far, we don’t have any clues to determine the need for their presence, and the louder we are, the worst it can be for the whole operation.

  The room was silent, as he came inside, and officer Silvani was alone organizing the files on the database. As he saw Maurizio coming in, he stood up from the chair, standing at attention. Carlo Silvani was one of the youngest recruits in Maurizio’s department, and he was still keeping himself adhering to the strict discipline he’d learned at the Police Academy from which he graduated a few months ago.

  “Sir,” he promptly greeted.

  “At ease,” Maurizio replied. “You’re coming with me. We need to reach Mr. Leonov’s apartment, and if we don’t find him, we’ll need to enter the place one way or another.”

  “Yes, Sir,” officer Silvani marched to get his jacket.

  He paced toward the car as officer Silvani remained silent for the whole journey. His discomfort was palpable, but Maurizio had his own thought to focus on rather than on the feelings of his subordinate. He was sure he would have loosened up with a bit of experience in the Police Corps.

  Parking the car in front of the building where Igor’s apartment was, the first thing that came to Maurizio’s mind was that he wasn’t in the residential area where wealthy people used to live. It wasn’t the Parioli quarter, that was Esquiline, and crimes were their daily bread in those places. Suddenly something forced Maurizio to stop in his tracks. It was a smell he could recognize in a heartbeat, and a noise capable of shaming him in the noisiest situation. The first was a whiff coming from a bar, where they served his favorite Porchetta sandwich, and the other was the reaction of his stomach to the stimulation.

  “Hush!” Maurizio reproached as if he was talking to someone.

  A confused officer Silvani furrowed his brow, “Sir?”

  “Never mind, officer. Maybe one day I’ll explain. Let’s hurry up, we don’t have time to waste.” Quickening his step, already regretting losing the chance of the only meal of the day, he paced toward the entrance of the building.

  Having done that job for many years, he trusted his instinct, telling him to call and have in place already a fire brigade’s team. Something told him that they would find the house empty, as nobody ever answered when he dialed Igor’s telephone number.

  Meeting them outside the building, Scala greeted them: “Good afternoon, the apartment is on the third floor, but I can’t say which one of those windows belongs to his or the neighbor’s home.”

  “If nobody is inside, we can figure out a way to let you in, and force the front door open, if necessary,” one of the firemen answered, as they entered the building.

  Followed by officer Silvani, who kept silent for the entire time, they walked toward the stairs. That building, like most of those in the area, didn’t have more than five floors, so it was uncommon to h
ave elevators. However, Igor’s apartment was located on the third floor, so there wasn’t any need to have one.

  Despite that detail, as they reached their target, Maurizio’s breath was slightly labored. His first reaction was trying one last time to ring the bell, hoping someone would have opened it, and better if it were Igor himself.

  Luck wasn’t on their side, and although the ringing of the bell was clearly audible, nobody went to open the door. “I guess we need to force the door,” muttered Maurizio, glancing at the firemen.

  Opening the door didn’t require extreme measures and as they entered the apartment, officer Silvani could close it behind him.

  They both immediately realized something was off. The apartment was empty, but not in the way suggesting the occupant left for good. It was as if the owner left one day, intending to return in the evening or at least the following day.

  “Something happened and either he decided to leave, or someone forced him not to return...” Maurizio considered walking around.

  “Sir, do you think he’d been...” Officer Silvani didn’t know how to put the possibility to have to deal with another murder, in the same case.

  “Murdered? Possible, officer... very much possible, but this is something unconfirmed; this is one of the many hypotheses at the moment,” he explained, exploring the rooms of the apartment. The first room he visited was the kitchen. “The fridge is full, meaning he plans, or he planned to return.”

  Officer Silvani walked to the bedroom. “Sir,” he called from there. “His clothes are still here. I’m not sure whether he took some of them, because he planned to stay away for a short period. Certainly, he’s coming back, eventually.”

  “We need to call the forensics. We need...” he said opening another door to another bedroom. “...Hmmm.”

  “Sir,” officer Silvani piped in, as he stepped into the other bedroom, interrupting his thoughts. “I think I found the weapon that killed Mr. Calvani. It was a Beretta APX, wasn’t it?” he said, holding the pistol in his hand.