*
A few metres down the road, Elaji changed his mind – he really needed to see Ami’s smile again. Djara might still be there, after all. He got out of the car. The supermarket grew closer and closer as he strode forward.
*
Djara ran across the parking lot and described a wide curve between the parked cars – her arms were spread like the wings of a plane. She turned again in the opposite direction.
Towards the monster.
She was so close.
A few more metres.
The monster leaned on his heels with all his weight, ready to spring out.
*
Elaji saw Mudiwa from a distance, he waved at her.
*
All of a sudden, the headlights of a car entering the parking lot illuminated Djara. The monster froze, for a split second he felt unable to move, then he stood up and left his hiding place. His muscles ached from his attempt to keep still.
His heart almost skipped a beat.
Djara skipped so close to him that he could smell her scent, while an unforeseen event was spoiling his plan.
*
Elaji spoke to Mudiwa for a few seconds, then he walked to the parking lot towards Djara. He didn’t see the white Volvo speed nervously away.
18
It was seven o’clock in the morning when Claps glanced distractedly at his watch. It wasn’t raining, but the air was cold and damp.
A couple of policemen had rung the door bell at Bench’s house. Claps stayed a few metres behind them, together with Sensi and Maiezza. Sensi’s eyes were surrounded by dark bags – as soon as he had received permission to inspect the house he had driven through the night, all the way from Milan to Massa Marittima.
An indistinct voice sounded through the buzzer and the two policemen introduced themselves. A few moments later, the door opened and Bench came out of the house. Maybe it was because he was so thin, but he looked much taller than the height declared on his identity card. He was barefoot, he was wearing a pair of baggy, tracksuit trousers and a worn out t-shirt. He didn’t look surprised. When the two policemen informed him that they had permission to search his house, he simply stepped back and let them in, without saying a word.
Claps looked around one last time, before stepping over the threshold. There was still nobody around who had been attracted by the police cars, Cellini seemed not to have noticed the police that morning – it was only a matter of time, however; the news would travel across the town very soon. Sensi had been very strict with his instructions – the police mustn’t let out the fact that their inspection was somehow connected with the kidnapping of Denise Cellini.
The house smelled very damp, there was a pungent smell of wet wood and smoke from logs that had burnt reluctantly.
Was that the smell of the monster’s den?
The furniture was years old – Bench probably hadn’t changed anything since his parents had died. The house wasn’t untidy, but there was a general sense of carelessness and neglect. It was exactly what one would expect in a house inhabited only occasionally by a single occupant.
Bench sat down in the corner of the lounge, his head low and his grey hair covering his forehead. He looked indifferent to what was happening around him.
After a brief survey, Sensi spoke a few words to Maiezza. “Do you know how long it will take for the LAFoD team to be here?”
“I called them a few minutes ago, they should be here soon – they were about twenty kilometres away when I spoke to them.”
“Okay, let’s make our way down to the cellar. I’d like to go with Claps and… you.” Sensi said to the older of the two policemen. “Wear your shoe covers and gloves.” he ordered.
After they put on the covers and gloves, they began to descend a narrow, dark staircase in single file. Claps felt his heartbeat accelerate with every step down. The smell immediately grew stronger – the air down there was damper and more pungent. Claps stopped on the last step and Sensi went to turn on the light.
The lightbulb hanging from the low ceiling weakly illuminated a sparsely furnished area. There was an old wardrobe, a large wooden table covered in CD-ROMs, music magazines and leftovers from a meal, a few shelves on the wall and an unmade bed. Bench probably slept down there. In fact, perhaps he even lived in the cellar, from what the policemen could see. There was a trumpet on the bed, wrapped in the sheets.
“Don’t touch anything,” Sensi said, as he looked around. “Let’s move as little as possible. Let’s make the LAFoD team’s job easier.”
Claps was still on the last step of the staircase. In the meantime, Sensi and the old policeman began to inspect the cellar, illuminating every object with the help of a handheld torch.
Claps closed his eyes and inhaled the damp air deeply.
Was this the place where Denise had been killed?
Was this the place where the monster had taken his victims?
Was this the place where he kept his trophies?
He opened his eyes as Sensi moved towards the wardrobe, grasped the handle and began to turn it slowly. Claps held his breath in dread at the thought of what the wardrobe could contain.
For a moment, he heard the terrible noise of clippers crushing a little finger.
The wardrobe didn’t open, however – Sensi tried more vigorously only to realise that it had been locked.
Sensi began to curse while he was looking around for a key. His curses were immediately interrupted by the old policeman, who sounded excited despite his hoarse voice. “Hey, look!” He pointed to a necklace hanging from a shelf. “I was around during the investigation that we conducted for Denise Cellini – this one! That’s the necklace that the kidnappers photographed when they asked for a ransom!”
“Fuck! Are you sure?”
The old policeman peered more closely at the necklace – Claps felt shivers run down his spine.
“That’s the one,” the old policeman repeated confidently.
“Holy cow.”
Sensi stretched out his shaking arm to take the necklace, then changed his mind and pulled out a pen from his pocket; with this, he let the necklace slip into a plastic bag without touching it.
“Take that motherfucker to the central police station. Now. I’ll deal with him.” Sensi hissed.
*
The LAFoD team arrived twenty minutes later.
Sensi had carried on inspecting the cellar, he was irritable because he hadn’t managed to find anything else, apart from the necklace, that could be used as evidence to incriminate Bench.
Dr Manara smiled kindly as soon as she walked into the house. “I’m sorry for being late, we left really early in the morning.”
Dr Portanova appeared behind her. “More or less at the same time that normal people go out clubbing.”
“Yeah, he still goes clubbing – would you believe it? I knew he needed some fresh air so I thought I’d bring him with me. You know him already, Claps, don’t you?” Dr Manara was on top form. “Now, I hope you haven’t disturbed the site before our investigation?”
“We did our best not to, but we trust your expertise.”
“That’s good,” Dr Manara looked more serious now. “It’s not going to be a crime scene where the crime was perpetrated a few hours or days ago. It’s going to be difficult to find anything in a room where something happened so long ago.”
“If… the cellar… is the monster’s… lair… the last time… that he struck… was between… a year… and six months… ago… a young girl… taken… from the camp… in Siena.” Claps said.
“Six months, a year… it’s not long, but it’s not all that recent either. If there’s something there, we’ll find it.” Dr Manara said – she sounded quite confident.
“How long will you need?” Sensi asked.
“We might need some time; I’m afraid we won’t finish until late tonight.” Dr Manara replied.
“Okay,” Sensi glanced at his watch. “I’ll give you a call this afternoon and we’
ll arrange a briefing for tomorrow morning. One more thing – there’s a locked wardrobe down there…”
“I’ll take care of it, I love playing the thief.” Dr Portanova said happily, in a tone which was definitely inappropriate now.
Sensi replied with some kind of grunt.
“Let me know if you find anything… interesting inside,” Sensi concluded, as he walked towards the front door. He was looking forward to seeing Bench at the central police station.
*
Elaji had gone out early that morning. He had driven Abedi’s fragile car to the far end of the province of Siena. He still had a shortlist of places where he could ask questions about the white Volvo.
He had decided this would be his last attempt – he knew that it was unlikely that he would find out anything, but he still felt very determined. “Your hand shall not shake when you’re about to shoot your last arrow.”
He didn’t want to have to go back to Alissa and tell her that he hadn’t been able to find the monster who had taken her sister away from them, to tell her that he had let a policeman do that for him.
He didn’t want that to happen.
Elaji’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
*
Maiezza was nervously overtaking other cars on the way to the central police station in Massa Marittima. Sensi was sitting by his side and Claps was in the back seat.
Claps was immersed in his thoughts. Now that he had seen Bench and everything seemed to come together, he had an awkward thought that wouldn’t leave him in peace – he had to find a way to talk to Trevis. Sensi, instead, was eerily excited, he turned towards Claps holding onto the door with his right hand.
“We’ve received some corroborating information from Milan – Bench was there to record a CD. We checked the times, we interrogated the staff at the place where he stayed and also the recording studio staff – he doesn’t have any alibis for the hours when Ami was kidnapped, when the Golf was rented and when it was taken back. He wasn’t at the guest house on the night when the young couple crossed paths with a Golf along the river. On the day of the kidnapping, Bench was at the recording studio between midday and 3 p.m. Nobody saw him after that time, the doorman saw him get in late at night, at roughly about three in the morning.”
Sensi lost his balance as they went round a tight bend, then he carried on talking.
“Basically, Bench went to Milan multiple times during the last year and always stayed at the same place. We don’t know how yet, but he must have bumped into Ami during one of his trips to Milan. He must have found her very interesting – she was so similar to his habitual prey but so far away from his usual choice of victim. This girl was integrated into society, she had a family to support her. Basically, she was impossible to get. There was something about her that inevitably attracted his depraved mind. He began to develop fantasies that would soon turn into obsessions. He wanted to take her, to possess her. He needed to do it, but he didn’t know how. And then the perfect opportunity presented itself – he could steal Beattie’s identity. After that, everything became more feasible: he developed a plan day by day until everything was ready. He got up early that morning, he went to snatch Ami at the bus stop, took her to his hide-out and left her tied up during the recording session. It probably didn’t take him more than four hours to get to the studio, do the recording session and then get back to the hide-out. It was probably 4 p.m. when he returned to her. He had all the time he needed to do whatever he wanted. The young couple saw him driving the Golf at 11:30 p.m. He decided to go back to the hide-out, to clean everything and wipe away any trace that he had been there. He went back to the guest house late at night and the following morning he returned the rented car, after he had cleaned it carefully. He was then ready to go back home.”
“We are… kind of… still assuming… a lot.”
“We’re reconstructing the scene, Claps, that’s what we’re doing. We will find any evidence down in the cellar with a little bit of luck, especially now we’ve found Denise’s necklace. We’ve got him now. It’s all a chain of events, Claps. The monster’s signature, the finger amputation, is what links the chain together. The person who took Ami is the same one who took Denise. All we have to do is to prove that he kidnapped even one of these girls and it’s game over for him. Do you remember what you told me that night over dinner, when you told me about Ami? Well, you were right. In order to find the person who took Ami, we’ll have to find who kidnapped the young girls in Tuscany.”
*
Dr Manara and Dr Portanova had finished bringing all the equipment into the cellar and were putting on their protective clothing in the lounge. “I’m ready to go when you are, Cristina.” Dr Portanova said, as he pulled up the zip of his suit.
“Okay, we’ll split the cellar into smaller areas and we’ll examine them one by one, beginning with the staircase that leads to the cellar and working towards the opposite wall.” Dr Manara said, as she descended the stairs. Her face reflected a degree of anxiety. “Are you worried?” Dr Portanova asked; he had noticed her expression. “It’s not going to be an easy job, we’re usually here when there are still bodies, bones and traces… we don’t have any bodies or bones here and we don’t even know if the place that we are going to inspect has been a crime scene. In fact, that’s the question that we’re going to have to answer.”
Dr Portanova began to put on his latex gloves. “It’s not going to be easy, the murders took place some time ago now.”
“I’m not expecting to find any obvious traces. It’s been a while and the room was certainly cleaned multiple times and the sheets were changed and washed.”
“Hopefully, we’ll find something. Even the tiniest trace.”
Dr Manara forced a smile. “Let’s get on with it – it’s going to be a long day.”
*
Elisa was sitting at the desk in front of Trevis.
The professor was waiting for a sign that she was receptive again.
She had been very engaged the day before. Trevis had perhaps let his imagination run away with him, but he thought that he had seen a faint smile on the girl’s face. She had definitely looked blank for the rest of the evening, though, even after she had seen Trevis’ drawing of a tall man in the woods holding two little girls by their hands. She had stared at the drawing for a long time, then she had rejected it with a slow, calm movement of her hand and taken another copy of the previous drawing.
“What colour?” The professor had asked. He had tried to conceal his disappointment and pointed to the crayons that he had placed on Elisa’s right hand side, far away from him. She hadn’t said a word, despite Trevis’ hopes. She had just leaned over to get a crayon and had begun to colour the pond with a light blue. She had done it calmly, without expressing any emotion. She had taken care over the details – the bushes and the papyrus canes on the one side, the treacherous cliff and the woods all around.
Nothing else, no human presence.
Why?
And yet he was sure that he had drawn the crime scene, the place where Denise had been taken.
‘Why nobody?’ Trevis kept wondering.
Was it because she didn’t want to remember? Because nothing existed since her sister had disappeared… not even herself?
He had to insist.
That morning, Trevis noticed that Elisa was particularly alert. He decided to push the drawing towards her and he tried to encourage her to contemplate it.
“What colour?”
Silence. Elisa was still.
“What colour do you want?”
Silence, again.
The clock ticked relentlessly and nothing happened.
The professor then decided to take a piece of paper for himself and began to draw. He sketched the same figures that he had drawn before – a man holding two young girls by their hands and walking through the woods. He was certain that Elisa was looking at him while he was drawing. When he finished, he turned the sheet round and showed it to t
he girl.
Elisa hesitated for a few seconds, then she carried on drawing on the sheet from the night before. She took a few minutes – the two young girls held each other’s hands now, they were alone and at the edge of the woods, close to the cliff. For a moment, she stared at the drawing with her expressionless eyes. It wasn’t complete. She had drawn lightly until then, almost with grace. Then she grasped a black crayon and held it tightly, she pressed the tip on the sheet almost breaking the crayon into pieces. She drew a thick cross on one of the two young girls.
After this, she laid her hands on her stomach and remained still and absent for the rest of the session.
*
Sensi had forced himself to not interrogate Bench straight away. He wanted to let him experience the anxiety of the wait, in the hope that Bench would become more receptive to the idea of talking.
It was late afternoon when he decided to face him.
Bench sat in front of Sensi and Claps. Another policeman stood behind Bench, ready to write down anything he said. He hadn’t asked why the police had wanted to inspect his house or why he had been taken to the police station.
Sensi took the necklace out of the plastic bag. He didn’t touch it with his hands, pulling it out using a pen instead.
“Mr Bencivenga,” he said calmly. “Can you tell me where this came from?”
Bench lifted his eyes towards Sensi, then towards the necklace that was swinging close to his face.
“I’ve had it for a while… I like it.” He answered after a few seconds, with a mechanic, expressionless tone.
“Why do you like it? Does it remind you of anything?”
“No… I just really like it.”
“Did you buy it?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You like it, but you don’t remember where you bought it.”
“No… I didn’t buy it… I found it.”
“Where did you find it?” Sensi asked.
“In the garden, I think.”
“In the garden? Who lost it there?”
“I don’t know.”
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