The Year of the Mantis

by P J Mann

  “No, the case isn’t closed until all the suspects have been interrogated. Once we are sure that there isn’t anyone else who can be connected to the crime, we can close and archive the case,” Maurizio explained. “But we are close to it, and it took a reasonable time to reach this stage. At the moment we can only say we will take the case once again in our hands after we receive any news from the Hungarian magistrate.”

  He realized they were once again among the last to leave the office. Nevertheless, there was a positive note in it, and it was that although they were the last ones to leave, he could still make it on time to have dinner at home, instead of skipping it one more time.

  “We’ll continue tomorrow as we wait for any news about Irina, the Interpol about Igor.” He grabbed his jacket and put his computer on pause. He was supposed to check on the reports of the surveillance teams who were following Luciano and Madlen during the day, but he considered that a task that could have been carried out from the computer at home.

  He wasn’t expecting anything new to happen in the immediate future. Generally, it takes some time before obtaining interesting news. A smile brightened on his face.

  “See you tomorrow, Officer Milani,” he said, greeting Sandra.

  “See you tomorrow, Commissario!”

  He sent a fast message to his wife, Anna, and rushed to the parking lot.

  ***

  Since he returned to live in the home he shared with his father, Luciano didn’t seem to have regained any ease in life. Browsing the TV, the sounds seemed to echo louder within the walls.

  I thought I was accustomed to be alone in this house, as you have always been away for one reason or another. Yet, the knowledge that you’re not going to be back brought a feeling of loneliness, I’m not yet used to, Luciano thought still zapping from one channel to another.

  Leaning his head back on the couch, he closed his eyes, remaining to listen to the noises coming from the streets and other apartments. Everything was quiet as if the whole world held its breath, waiting for something to happen.

  It was a week since he decided to enter gradually in the leading of the family business. The help offered by his mother and the close cooperators of his father was priceless. Without them, he would have been in deep trouble, understanding all the details and the secrets to run it successfully.

  He hadn’t yet come to a decision whether it would have been reasonable to quit the University studies and focus entirely on the family business.

  “There shouldn’t be any problem to keep going in this direction. I can continue my studies and work part-time on the firm...” He opened his eyes, almost surprised to hear his voice in the emptiness of the house. “I don’t know, but I need to make a decision soon, and perhaps tomorrow I can have a talk with my mother and also with my mentors in the firm.”

  Standing from the couch, he walked to the window to watch the city, slowly falling asleep. “I miss her,” he whispered, thinking about Irina.

  The new responsibilities forced him to withdraw from the social life he’d enjoyed before the murder of his father. Although this wasn’t the way he’d expected his life to turn out, he was also aware this was the way it was supposed to become sooner or later. And in this case, it was absolutely better to be sooner, than later.

  His eyes searched the room and met the telephone lying on the table in front of the couch. Hesitatingly, he grabbed it and remained staring at it for long moments, wondering whether it would have been too late to call Irina.

  As indecision stopped him from dialing her number, he decided simply to send her a message, and considering that the morning after he needed to be at work earlier than usual, he reached the bedroom.

  Walking in front of his father’s bedroom, he stepped inside. All of his belongings were still there in a box, as he didn’t have the time to put them back in order, after the police concluded the search. There wasn’t a steady thought in his mind, but he sauntered to the bed, where the boxes were and found Claudio’s mobile phone.

  Holding it in his hands, he found it surprising that he didn’t have any particular feeling at its touch. Slowly, he went through his father’s belongings, something he didn’t have the time to do before, or perhaps he tried to find all the possible excuses to avoid that task in the past days, since he got the keys returned.

  There were all his clothes, the expensive watches he liked to collect... “All those things need to be gifted to some charity organizations. Someone might need those more than I do,” he considered almost whispering within himself.

  With a long exhale, he stood from the bed and walked to his room, ready to end the day, hoping to have the chance to talk to Irina soon. That forced separation was something he wished to bring to an end.

  From the civil police car parked outside the building Officer Cattaneo and Marchesi kept an eye on the movements inside the apartment. As the lights switched off, Officer Cattaneo smirked, lowering the binoculars on his lap. “He probably went to sleep,” he said.

  “Good for him, I wish I could do the same,” growled Officer Marchesi. “I’m wondering what we are doing here. It has been a couple of nights and days that Mr. Calvani has been followed in every single move. Nighttime we place ourselves here and wait until the morning after. If you ask me, we’re wasting resources uselessly.”

  “Well, at least I know this won’t last forever. The case is coming to closure, so we will be assigned to something else. Personally, I prefer to keep an eye on this guy— it’s an easier task.”

  Suddenly, the noise of the ringing of the phone interrupted the monotony of the night. Switching on the recording device, Officer Cattaneo jolted in his seat, “The girl is calling him.”

  Luciano was sleeping when the telephone started to ring. He didn’t need to know who was calling, as there was only one person who would have had any reason for that late night, or early morning call, for the matter.

  Without switching on the light, he grabbed the telephone, flashing and scattering its light in the darkness. “Hello, I thought you were sleeping.” He climbed out of bed, turning the alarm clock to check the time.

  “I wasn’t sure whether to call you or not. I talked to my mother earlier, and she hopes the case will be closed soon, so she can have access to the money she inherited,” she replied casually.

  “I wish everything will be closed soon as well. I haven’t received any news from the detective, and I’m wondering the reason for their silence. I wanted to call you because I started missing you. I can’t wait until we can finally live together,” his voice merely a whisper.

  A giggle escaped her. “We haven’t been apart recently, but I understand what you mean, and I feel the same. Returning here in Hungary, after such a long break felt a bit strange. My aunt has been asking me a lot of questions about my journey. I’m afraid the police questioned her too. It might have been a mistake revealing our relationship. We should have kept this detail to ourselves.”

  Luciano shook his head, “I was forced to. I have no idea how it was possible, but it seemed as if Detective Scala knew about us, and then it would have been worse trying to deny it. Someone must have seen us together and told him about us... Moreover, I tried to delete all the emails between you and me from my computer, but those things leave a trace in the server and they might have retrieved them, revealing our relationship.”

  For a few moments, none of them knew what to say. “There isn’t anything wrong in being together and not wanting anyone else to know. Why are you so worried about it?” He was aware of the risk involved in being connected to each other.

  “Because this is the first time my aunt is asking me so insistently about my hangouts. Although we don’t live together anymore, we have a very close relationship, and when I need to leave my apartment for a journey, I always ask her to take care of the mail, so she knows exactly when I’m away. This was the first time she called me to know where I’ve been and with whom or what have I done in Paris. I’m wondering whether the police h
ave been questioning my mother about me too?” She glanced around the room, as if she were waiting for something to happen, perhaps the police would suddenly burst into her home to bring her to jail.

  The possibility wasn’t so remote, and she knew the risks involved in planning the murder of two people. Eventually nobody could connect her to the murder of Igor. Also, before accusing me of his assassination there must be a corpse, rather than a missing person who is accused of having killed a rival in love.

  Despite the difficulty to be connected to any of the deaths, her soul wasn’t at ease. She needed to make sure she would never be suspected either by disappearing, perhaps with a counterfeited passport to another country.

  Luciano remained listening to her silence as if he could hear her thoughts and doubts. “Everything will be fine— I promise,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

  Without replying, she nodded, “Perhaps we should go to sleep. Tomorrow we both need to get back to work.”

  “Yes, probably it’s better for me to quit the University and focus only on the leading of the firm; there are so many things to learn about it, and I can’t pretend to focus and succeed on both tasks. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to resume my studies, but for now I need to concentrate only on one task and leave this terrible story behind me. Don’t forget I love you,” he said, feeling his heartbeat thumping in his chest.

  “I love you too. Have a good night,” she replied, ending the conversation. Once again, she scanned the room with her eyes, and the feeling of hopelessness, grabbed her soul.

  Clenching her fists, she gathered all her strength. “It’s not over yet. I can’t let myself go and get caught off-guard.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Maurizio was driving to the Police Department. He knew he was late, the traffic on the Tiburtine was slower than ever, and with clenched teeth he reached his frustration level to the fact that yet, he couldn’t find a new apartment where to move with the family. He didn’t have much time to dedicate to the task, and he felt grateful to Anna for not having asked anything about it.

  “I need to get rid of this route, one way or another,” he hissed as his car slowly proceeded toward the exit where he would have the chance to speed up. The ringing of his phone chimed in his ear through the loudspeakers. Without the need to check who was calling he replied, confident that Chief Commissioner Angelini was wondering where he might have been.

  “Scala,” he answered with a slightly upset tone.

  “Detective Scala, are you upset about my call or anything in general?” The voice of Chief Commissioner Angelini reached him like a cold shower.

  “Sir, I’m in the worst traffic jam on the Tiburtine. Nothing personal, but I know I’m late and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Maurizio shook his head, still keeping his eyes on the road.

  “I feel for you, but I didn’t call you simply to remind you that you’re late, rather I wanted to inform you about the status of your request to obtain a warrant for Irina Leonova to have the chance to interrogate her. Being the suspect also an Italian citizen and residing in a European Country, should make the task easier and smooth, and a request has been forwarded to the Magistrature.” He smirked, imagining Maurizio cursing in the middle of the traffic jam. Everybody who has been living in Rome or visiting long enough to be stuck in the Tiburtine, knows the challenges of having to drive it every day during the peak hours in the morning and afternoon.

  “Great news! Thank you. I will get the team together to brainstorm about all the clues and evidence we have so far. Then I will be able to produce a report for you this evening, or whenever I reach the precinct,” he sighed hopelessly aware of the fact that there wasn’t any certainty on when he would have been able to get out of the Tiburtine.

  Ending the conversation, he thought about it, starting to create a list of things to be done. Certainly, having Irina back in Italy for interrogation would have been a step ahead in the investigation. He was certain she must have had at least an idea about the location of her father’s whereabouts.

  I think she was aware since the beginning of his plan to kill Mr. Calvani. The question is, whether she is an accomplice, a person who tried to dissuade him, or she was completely ignorant of the fact, and his father left home with an excuse the night of the murder, he reasoned within himself. There must be something that can give an answer to these questions besides questioning her personally. I need to go through all the DNA traces with Leonardo, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do as I get there—if ever I manage to do so.

  It took almost another hour to get to the precinct when Maurizio stormed in, looking like a mad dog, as Leonardo would have described him, when he completely lost his temper.

  Leonardo was on his way to the common room to get another coffee, when his eyes crossed Maurizio’s. They both remained frozen for a moment, engaging in a staredown, their eyes like gunslingers in western movies.

  Leonardo opened his mouth, ready to mock his high school friend.

  “Don’t even think about it!” Maurizio yelled, his voice resounding through the alleys. His finger pointing at Leonardo as if holding a gun.

  Releasing a chuckle, Leonardo raised his hands, “Don’t shoot! I give up.”

  “We need to talk, and I need all the brainpower available. I’ll come with you to get some coffee, and then we gather Officers Silvani and Milani to my room.” Maurizio cut it short. The first thing he needed was a coffee to collect his thoughts and forget about the traffic jam. He was confident that staying until late, as he predicted, would have allowed him to skip the worst of the peak hours on his way home.

  As they all were gathered to Maurizio’s office, he gave a good look at each of them. “We have to take stock of the situation. First of all, we have forwarded the request to the magistrature for an international warrant arrest of Irina Leonova. We have to expect that they will ask for more evidence of her involvement, and this is what we need to do now.” He turned to address Senior officer Milani. “What is the news of the officers who are following Luciano Calvani and Madlen Fazekas?”

  Opening a folder, she brought from her desk, she cleared her voice. “Concerning the moves of Ms. Fazekas, there hadn’t been anything out of normal. She went on with her life like you would expect. She has tried to get her job back at the club, even if no more as a stripper. She hasn’t received or made any suspicious calls, so we can certainly continue following her, but I doubt she’s involved in the murder. The reason why we might want to do so is her connection with her daughter.” She turned to officer Silvani, who had the report of the officers who were keeping an eye on Luciano.

  “Instead,” Officer Silvani continued, talking with a lower tone of voice. “Mr. Calvani received a few phone calls from Ms. Leonova. All of them took place during the night, which is something that raises many questions. He’s working and waking up early every morning, so I would expect him to go to sleep early and keep the telephone calls for the late afternoon. Yet, they call each other in the middle of the night. Of course, there isn’t any rule that forbids calling at that time, but I personally don’t get the reason. According to the recording and transcript of the chats they had, it sounded like they knew they might have been heard.”

  “Hmm...” Maurizio muttered, biting his lower lip. “Was there any possibility that the officers had been spotted?”

  Shaking his head, Officer Silvani was convinced this wasn’t the reason for their hesitating chats. “What I know is that her aunt started questioning her about her journey, and she got wary. I believe this rarely happens, so she probably expects to be invited to present herself here to answer a few questions. Moreover, it was obvious she’d been in Italy entering in a way to elude the border control. The reason why she did so, isn’t clear but strange enough to bring her in, if not on the crime scene, quite close to it.”

  Maurizio remained silent for a moment to elaborate in his mind that information. Then raising his glance, he turned to Leonardo, who had been silent the entire tim
e, almost holding his breath listening to what the other officers had to say. “What about the forensic report? You said once that there was something strange on the DNA traces detected on the murder weapon. Can you tell us anything new that came to your mind, or that came out from further testing?”

  Bringing his knuckles against his mouth, Leonardo furrowed his brows, creasing his forehead. “I still find it a bit strange. The touch DNA is indeed different for each human being, and someone might not leave any trace when they touch a certain surface. Some individuals consistently do not leave sufficient trace for a complete DNA profile, making them impossible to trace only on the basis of touch DNA. We are talking about a man who wasn’t alien to criminality. He knows perfectly well that DNA is the best way to nail a person to the crime scene.” He stood up and walked to Maurizio’s desk, where he could find some napkins. He wiped his hands and placed the napkins on the table. “If we’re going to examine these, we would find Maurizio’s touch DNA, too. Just traces, but you get the message.”

  Drawing a long, deep breath, Leonardo returned to sit at the table. “There are a few points that don’t make any sense here: The first, is why didn’t he use latex gloves? Whether or not these wouldn’t have stopped to imprint some traces, they wouldn’t have left any fingerprints, which were there. Secondly is the amount of touch DNA material. If you hold a pistol for a few minutes, you might or might not leave any viable trace. Yet, if you are in an emotional state, like the one of a man who’s going to murder a love rival, your hands are certainly sweating, and you’re leaving more of a residue than you’d ever wish to. The third point is why in this world would you keep the murder weapon at home without making sure every trace is wiped away? It might belong to a serial killer’s profile who wishes to be caught— not an occasional assassin. Then there’s the presence of her daughter...” Leonardo shook his head.

  “So, she was there by chance?” Maurizio added.