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Missing

Page 18

by Monty Marsden


  “Yeah,” Sensi almost muttered to himself. “She may have heard something, a noise, a choked shout, her sister’s voice… something that drew her to the house and made her look into the cellar.”

  “It’s… it’s only… a hypothesis… we don’t even… know… if the house… does… have a cellar.”

  “We’re going to get the blueprint tomorrow morning – will you take care of it, Maiezza?”

  “I’ll make it a priority.”

  17

  It was a wet morning. The sky was cloudy and a light shower of rain was kept at bay by the windscreen wipers. Claps had given Maiezza a lift to Massa Marittima for the blueprint; Sensi had left for Milan before dawn with the aim of reconstructing Bench’s movements during the days following Ami’s disappearance.

  Claps drove slowly on the wet road and pulled up on the hard shoulder next to the cork oak woods, a few kilometres away from town. It was likely that Cellini had parked not far from there, the day that he had taken his daughters to the woods and Denise had disappeared.

  He stayed thoughtfully inside his car for a few minutes, he observed the rain and the oak trees, thoughts clouding his mind just as the grey clouds were covering the morning sky. Were they close to an end?

  Was Bench the monster?

  A man with mental problems, who had let the delirium which had eaten him away inside also devour the world outside?

  Was it possible that Professor Trevis hadn’t noticed anything, during all those years of therapy with Bench?

  The rain grew heavier. The wind caused the rain to lash against the windscreen in interminable waves.

  Cellini and Elisa had stayed in the woods for a long time, trying to find Denise, before they had gone back to town and alerted the police. Bench may have had all that time to hide the little girl inside his car and get to his hide-out without much effort. A few metres away from Cellini’s house – it was so close that nobody would probably have dreamed that the little girl could be next door.

  Claps wrapped himself in his trench coat and got out of the car, then headed towards the oak trees. The trees blocked the little remaining sunlight and created a nocturnal atmosphere; their foliage provided an almost complete shelter from the rain. The scent of the woods had become very pungent and almost stunned him.

  He had studied a map of these woods and he knew where he was going. He walked on the dirt track for a long time, making a mental note of some reference points in case he got lost on the way back. Eventually, he found the lake. There, the oak trees had become sparser and a cliff separated the lake from a white road which ran beside it.

  Claps stepped out from the shelter of the foliage – he let the wind and rain buffet his face. He turned round to look back at the trees.

  He closed his eyes.

  The scents became more difficult to identify.

  The noises gradually disappeared, his head had become very light.

  There… the monster had taken her there.

  He had followed her.

  He had waited for the right moment, when the other sister was far away.

  He had stunned the little girl, he almost choked her to prevent her from screaming, his hands were enormous compared to the girl’s little mouth.

  Perhaps he had hit her.

  He had lifted her off the ground as though she were simply a twig from a tree.

  He had walked away swiftly, creeping through the bushes like a large snake.

  He had begun to climb down the cliff, but something must have happened – they had found Denise’s blood there.

  Perhaps he dropped her, or maybe Denise had wriggled away from him and then rolled away amongst the stones and bushes… she was wounded; she had cut herself or broken a bone.

  He had picked her up again, she was most likely unconscious.

  The car was there, a few metres away.

  In a few seconds, he had locked her inside the boot.

  Claps opened his eyes again. His vertigo slowly wore off. He began to feel the wind and the rain on his face again.

  Was Bench the monster?

  He walked back into the woods with his mind full of thoughts and headed towards his car. He drove to town; he drove past Cellini’s house but he didn’t pull up there. He drove more slowly towards Bench’s house. On the side of the garden that was hidden from Cellini’s sight, there were steps leading to a trapdoor… and if there was a trapdoor, there had to be some kind of cellar.

  Claps stopped the car and lowered the side window – he wanted to see if there were any windows, but he couldn’t see anything from where he was. He drove a few metres forward… then a few more metres again, until he was at the far end of the property. He stopped again to observe more carefully and more decisively. He would have to get out of the car and cross the fence if he still couldn’t see anything. While he was thinking this, a voice made him jump in his seat.

  “He’s gone out, you won’t find him in the house.”

  *

  Cellini had appeared on the street out of the blue. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the rain; rather it was Claps who seemed to annoy him.

  “I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with talking to him – I told you already that he didn’t have anything to do with my daughters.” Cellini said, as he leaned in the side window.

  It was only then that Claps realized that the shutters in Bench’s house weren’t lowered any more.

  “Anyway, you could have just tried to talk to him yesterday, instead of coming here again today.”

  “Was he… here… yesterday?… the shutters… were… rolled down.”

  “He’s been here for a few days.”

  Cellini lit up a cigarette, he sheltered the flame from the wind with his hand.

  “He’s still a little weird – sometimes the shutters are down when it’s sunny and other times they’re up when it’s pouring down with rain, like today. He’s not at home now anyway – I saw him drive off about an hour ago.”

  “Okay, I’ll call in another time,” Claps said. He restarted the engine – he had succeeded in letting Cellini believe that he had driven there to talk to Bench.

  “One more… thing… please.”

  Cellini had already pulled back from the side window – he leaned forward again.

  “When… Elisa… felt ill… during the days… when… your daughter… had disappeared…”

  “Yes?”

  “Did she carry… on… living here… or did you send… her to… friends or relatives?”

  “To prevent her from sharing the same pain that we all felt? To prevent her from seeing the police and the journalists come and go?”

  Cellini threw away the cigarette that he had only just lit, far away on the pavement. “I’ve already told you that Elisa didn’t perceive the world around her back then. She was here, this is her home.”

  Claps thanked him and drove slowly away.

  *

  To insist.

  Trevis didn’t like that word, but it explained precisely what he was about to do… in fact, what he had begun to do already.

  When he was treating his patients, Trevis tried to adjust himself to them. Whenever he managed to communicate with his patients through the drawings he copied some of them, then he would move them around, join them together and only eventually would he integrate them with his own elements.

  With Elisa, however, he had imposed a theme from the beginning – the sun, the woods… and he had to push her even further now, towards what her mind could recall of the tragedy.

  To insist.

  Elisa would be there in a moment. Trevis began to draw – the woods, and a tall man walking through the trees with two young, blonde girls on either side, the pond in the corner of the paper.

  *

  “I’d like some information about the owner of a car, please.”

  Elaji had patiently queued up for a little while – he had shaved his beard off and he was wearing a coat and a new pair of trousers. He didn’t look home
less, now. The woman at the service desk stared at him for a moment, then she handed him a paper to fill in.

  “You’ll have to fill in this form – make sure you write down the registration number. There’s a five euro fee for this service.”

  Elaji straightened up. “I don’t know the number,” he said, lowering his voice. “I know that it’s a white Volvo, diesel, station wagon.”

  The woman took off her glasses and stared at Elaji with an expression that was somewhere between amusement and astonishment. “Do you know that there are thirty million cars in this country? How do you think we can identify one of them by knowing only its brand and its fuel type?”

  “It’s from here, from this area.”

  The lady became more serious. “Was this car involved in an accident? If that’s the reason, you’ll have to go to the police and explain everything to them.”

  “No, it’s not an accident, I just have to get in touch with the owner. It’s very important to me.”

  “From this area…” The lady peeked at the queue behind Elaji – there were just two people. “We don’t normally provide this service.”

  Elaji leaned over towards her, he almost whispered.

  “Please, I beg you, it’s really important to me.”

  The woman sighed. “Let me help the two customers behind you, then I’ll see what I can do.”

  *

  Claps had gone to the central police station as soon as he had received the call from Maiezza – they had a plan of Bench’s house. The old head of police had stopped him in the corridor. “Elaji was seen talking to somebody from the camp yesterday, Mr Claps.”

  “Do you know who he was talking to?”

  The old policeman spread his arms. “We only know that his name’s Bechir, but we know where to find him if necessary. Also, we saw Elaji drive away from town in Abedi’s car today.”

  “Siena… he probably went… to the camp… in Siena.”

  “Do you want to ask them some questions? Shall I bring them in for you?”

  Claps wanted to see the house plan.

  “Not yet… I’ll let you know…”

  *

  “So there’s a cellar, after all.” Maiezza pointed to a spot on the plan of Bench’s house. “It’s quite large as well, see?” He carried on, and he followed the perimeter of the cellar with his finger. “It’s here, close to the auto workshop.”

  Claps examined the map carefully.

  “There… are also… some windows.”

  They were at the back of the house – Claps would have never been able to see them from the car that morning. Elisa, on the other hand, would have just needed to climb the fence between the two gardens and turn the corner in order to see the little windows and look inside the cellar.

  Claps’ eyes became very intense.

  Bench had locked Denise – who was likely to be unconscious – in the boot of his car; then, while Elisa and Cellini were looking for her in the woods, he had returned home with his prey. He didn’t run any risks – when the police were alerted, he was already at home; Denise was in his hands. It was already dark and the search was being carried out far away from his house, near the cork oaks – the police had believed that the girl was still there.

  He could have done anything to her.

  Elisa was at home with her mother and a few people who were there to support them, but she was frozen and shocked – she didn’t talk, she didn’t express her emotions. Her actions were only addressed to her mother.

  Maybe she went out into the garden. She heard something… a cry, far away. She recognised Denise’s voice.

  She jumped over the fence, she walked towards Bench’s house – whatever she had heard seemed to have come from there.

  She turned round the corner, she saw lights from the cellar windows.

  She walked towards them.

  She looked inside.

  She saw something terrible.

  She didn’t scream, she didn’t cry. Her weak mind decided to shut itself off from the world. Nothing else existed in the world apart from herself.

  Nothing could make her happy, nothing could make her suffer.

  Nothing.

  “Mr Claps?”

  Claps shook himself awake. “Just… a hypothesis.” He muttered to himself.

  “Excuse me?”

  “No-thing…”

  The monster had not stopped since – he was drunk with excitement. He had planned a fake kidnapping and ransom demand to confuse the police – he had sent out a letter with the photo of the necklace Denise was wearing the day she had been taken. Then he had gone to live in Siena and he would return every now and then… He would return when he wanted to strike again… when he wanted to take a young victim that nobody would miss and take her to his house.

  The cellar – they could find all of the proof they needed right there.

  “Call Sensi… we need… to inspect… the house… let’s call the LAFoD.”

  *

  “So we have more than seventy thousand registered vehicles just in the province of Grosseto.” She was typing swiftly on the keyboard. “Eight hundred and five of these are Volvos and six hundred and forty-two of those are diesel fuelled.”

  “How many white estate cars are there?”

  She spread her arms. “We would have to open all of the files one by one to find out.”

  “I have time, I have all the time in the world.”

  The woman pulled an exasperated face. “Do you also have three thousand euros? It’s five euros for each file, sir. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with this.”

  “Three thousand euros…” Elaji rubbed his face with his hands.

  “Are you sure that the car was from this area, anyway? Where did you see it?”

  “Follonica… Massa Marittima.”

  “The provinces of Siena and Livorno are very close – the search would have to be at least three times broader.”

  The woman leaned over towards him and lowered her voice. “Listen, I know this is not my business, but the police could request this search for you and you wouldn’t have to pay a penny. Did the owner of this car really not cause any accidents? Can you really not report him to the police?”

  Elaji looked away.

  “No, the police aren’t interested in this, they won’t do it for me.”

  A few minutes later, he was in Abedi’s Fiat Panda on the road to Massa Marittima. He was wondering how much Claps could have helped if he told him what he had heard from the Muslim witness.

  How many estate cars could there be out of 642 cars? It was a very common type of car. Let’s say 500? How many of those were white? That was definitely not a popular colour – maybe two out of ten, if he had stretched it a little?

  That meant that if he had three thousand Euros, he would have had to investigate about one hundred Volvos.

  Too many for him alone. “You can’t stretch the bow beyond the length of your arm.”

  That number, however, wasn’t too large for the police.

  Elaji followed his instinct and touched his wallet – he kept Claps’ business card there.

  He pulled his hand away again – he still had one last shot.

  *

  The white Volvo made its way into the parking lot slowly, it bounced lightly over a bump, and then stopped completely. The headlights were turned off.

  The monster’s movements were calm and slow. His breathing was a little heavy.

  He didn’t get out of the car.

  He stared at the lights inside the supermarket, his hands on the steering wheel.

  He had parked between two cars and there was a wall behind him.

  Djara would almost certainly zig-zag past his car. Like a flying bird that only knows one direction.

  He would grab her with one movement.

  A swift movement.

  Quickly.

  Harshly.

  Almost invisibly.

  She wouldn’t realize what was happening to her.

/>   The monster pulled a gruesome smile.

  *

  Elaji had just driven into Massa Marittima – he had spent the whole day visiting car retailers and authorised Volvo dealers. He had asked everyone the same questions about the white estate car with a rear windscreen full of stickers. Some of the retailers had been helpful, others rude, but the answer had always been the same – nobody had ever seen that car. He had driven through the whole southern part of the province and he was going to go through the northern area the following morning. He would drive to Siena, where he wanted to find two big retailers. If he failed again, he would go to Claps and tell him everything and then he would go home to Rama and his little girl.

  He had made his decision.

  *

  The monster was still staring at the entrance to the supermarket.

  It was nearly closing time and the crowd of customers had grown thinner. Djara was close to her mother. Her big eyes seemed to reflect the neon lights of the parking lot.

  He saw her take something – perhaps she had taken some coins to buy the milk.

  The beast’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his breathing became hoarser.

  It was nearly time.

  *

  Elaji locked himself inside the Fiat Panda that belonged to Abedi. He knew that nobody would have wanted to steal such an old car, but he felt safer anyway. He observed the walls of the old town in front of him – they looked even higher in the darkness of the night. He thought about Alissa, waiting for him at home, then he remembered Ami and her smile. The supermarket was a few hundred metres away, but perhaps Djara was already at the camp with her mother at that time of the night. Elaji pondered upon what to do for a little while, then he drove off in the opposite direction, towards Abedi’s house.

  *

  Djara walked towards the parking lot. She was half running and half skipping, like most children do.

  The monster silently slipped out of his car.

  He clicked a button to unlock the boot.

  He hunkered down between his car and the one next to it.

  He muscles were tense, he was ready.

  Djara was so close.

  Nobody was around.

  He was invisible in the shadows.

 

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