Missing

Home > Other > Missing > Page 21
Missing Page 21

by Monty Marsden


  Then, a little further down, another grave. It was Aisha, she was wearing her red top and didn’t have any cellophane round her. She didn’t have a face.

  Then another grave… and another one. They were getting closer to the cage, they were almost invading it. They spawned suddenly, there were more than Claps could count and they were introduced by the deafening crack of the clippers.

  Bones. Skeletons. Small bodies.

  Closer. Bigger.

  Claps was terrorised and scrambled towards the opposite side of the cage to escape from the multitude of bodies which seemed to want to roll inside it from one moment to the next.

  An arm, a cold hand, touched his hair lightly.

  The descent was slower, more and more difficult.

  Claps was struggling to breathe now.

  The silent screams of the little bodies.

  Then, eventually, when he began to believe that he was going crazy, the insane swarming ceased.

  The cage, which had been crushed and deformed by the narrowing of the walls, stopped suddenly.

  A few seconds later, Claps managed to stand up and force the grating open.

  He was in the station hall, where he had spoken with Cellini.

  It wasn’t as well-lit as last time.

  There was something different in the air, something more dense.

  The stench of the mine had disappeared and had given way to a more pungent, sweet smell.

  Claps moved forward, the anguish slowed him down, his heart felt like it was about to explode inside his chest.

  It was an evil stench… vaguely vile.

  He lifted up his eyes. There were no bricks on the ceiling – it was a tunnel made with plain soil, just like a gallery inside a mine.

  A tiny trickle of soil began to fall down from the ceiling.

  Then it grew thicker.

  The ceiling above him began to tear apart and he could see the rays of the sun making their way through it.

  He saw a hand emerge from the soil, then Denise’s whole putrefying body fell down on him, attaching itself to him.

  Claps broke out into a desperate scream, he tried to wriggle away from the body, he could feel the decaying skin crumbling from Denise’s body and the bitter-sweet smell of the putrefying flesh made him retch.

  He screamed.

  He carried on screaming even when he realized that he was in bed and had woken himself by sitting up. He was covered in cold sweat and wide awake.

  19

  “There’s no trace of blood in the cellar.”

  Dr Manara got straight to the point.

  It was eight in the morning and the tiredness had now disappeared from the faces of the two scientists.

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean that there has never been blood in the cellar.” Sensi didn’t want to give up so easily. “It might have been cleaned up carefully.”

  “Yes, that’s possible, especially if the blood was in a small area of the cellar.”

  “He must be good at cleaning, there’s nothing where he’s supposed to have taken Ami.”

  “He… used…. some… cellophane.” Claps spoke in an expressionless tone, he was absorbed in his thoughts.

  “He might even have this wrapping, still.”

  “We… would… have found… it… even in the other… graves… like the one… where… Ami… was found.”

  “Maybe.”

  “The gist of the story is that we still have no evidence, Sensi. There’s no trace of blood in the cellar.” Dr Manara wrapped up the conversation.

  “Are there any traces of organic fluids?”

  “Some traces of sperm and urine on the bed sheets.”

  Dr Manara carried on talking, pre-empting a question from Sensi.

  “Only sperm and urine, nothing else. They’re recent traces – most likely, the fruit of masturbation or involuntary nocturnal secretions. We would have needed to analyse the bed sheets from months ago to be able to find anything… maybe before they were washed.”

  Sensi took off his glasses and put them on the desk, he looked disappointed.

  “Any hairs, fingerprints, fibres?”

  “It’s full of fingerprints. We compared them with Bench’s fingerprints and they’re all his. There’s not a single fingerprint that belongs to anybody else.

  “Any hairs, fibres?” Sensi insisted.

  “Just white and grey hairs. They clearly didn’t belong to a young, black girl. We can do a DNA test on them if you want.”

  Sensi shook his head and groaned.

  “What did you find… in the wardrobe?” Claps sounded tired, he sounded like he knew the answer already.

  “Just randomly scattered clothes and a couple of suits hanging up. Nothing else.”

  Silence dominated the room for a few seconds, then Dr Manara broke in. “I might get back to work, if we’re done talking.” she said, with a hint of a smile. “I’ll do one final check to make sure that I haven’t missed anything.”

  *

  “She… won’t find… anything.”

  Claps commented as he was looking at a spot on the horizon, as soon as Dr Manara went back to the cellar.

  “Why?”

  “It’s not… him.”

  “What the fuck are you on about, Claps?”

  “Bench is not the monster… he didn’t do anything… that cellar… isn’t the hide-out… that’s why there’s no… blood… or anything… else.”

  “Are you crazy?” Sensi looked at Claps as though he was an alien.

  “You saw him… we talked to him… do you think… he would be… able to… plan something… this complex?… do you think… he’s interested… in this… world?… Bench… might be able… to kill… but he would do it… instinctively… he wouldn’t fake… a ransom… he wouldn’t steal… someone else’s identity.”

  “But it was you who suggested that he might be the culprit! I mean, it’s obvious that he’s acting, he must be working on recruiting an army of lawyers so that he can avoid prison by demonstrating his mental illness. We have proof. He took Denise… and Ami… and all the others.”

  “What proof?… that he was in north Italy… when Ami… was taken?… we only know… that it happened… a few kilometres… away from him.”

  “He doesn’t have any alibis.”

  “There’s nothing… that links him… directly with her… no evidence.”

  “His body characteristics match those of the murderer, he was in the same city where Beattie got his driving licence stolen.”

  “These… are not… evidence.”

  “Denise’s necklace.”

  “The necklace… what if he… really… found it… in the garden?”

  “Come on, Claps!” Sensi lost his temper.

  “Maybe… the monster… chucked it away… after he took a photo… of the necklace… to simulate… the ransom.”

  “That’s absurd! Even if this had happened… why would he choose to drop it there, when there are trees and woods all around the town where he could hide it?”

  “Because he wanted… to mislead… the investigators… and let them… believe… that Bench was the… culprit… he’s the perfect victim… a man with… a mental illness.”

  Sensi turned away from Claps, he didn’t want to accept that hypothesis. “That doesn’t make sense, Claps. If it was true, the necklace would have been found back at the time when the murder was committed, we only found out about it very recently.”

  “That’s… because… the real monster… was never suspected… otherwise… he would have found… a way… to let Bench find it… earlier… the monster is a clever… cautious man.”

  *

  There were still a bunch of nosey neighbours standing in front of Bench’s house.

  Claps parked behind the police car. As soon as he got out of his car, he saw Mr Cellini walking towards him. He was frowning.

  “Who are you really, Mr Claps?”

  “I’m sorry… I don’t have the time… now.”
>
  “No.” Cellini blocked him off. “You have to find the time to explain everything now.”

  Elisa’s father pointed to Bench’s house with an angry gesture.

  “That man is in prison and while he’s there they’re turning his house inside out like a glove. What’s this all about? You introduced yourself to me as some kind of support therapist for Elisa… but you seem more interested in Bench… then today this shit happens. Are you a policeman?”

  “I work for…”

  “Professor Trevis?” Cellini interrupted him. “You’ve already told me this story; I’m not going to believe any of it.”

  “With the police… I work with… the police.”

  Cellini seemed to calm down. He remained silent for a few seconds. He pointed to Bench’s house again. “Is that about Denise?” He asked more calmly.

  “I can’t… say anything… I’m sorry.”

  Claps moved sideways but Cellini did the same, still blocking Claps’ way. Cellini’s voice was angry again. “You have to tell me. I need to know. Is it about Denise?”

  “No… we wanted to… know more… about Bench… his movements… even when Denise was… killed… we wanted to… know… if he was here.”

  “And you’ve turned his house inside out to find out? I welcomed you into my house, you asked me about Denise. You’ve no idea how much it hurt me to talk about her.” Cellini was yelling now. “Couldn’t you just ask about Bench?”

  “It was important… that nobody… knew.”

  Cellini moved sideways to let Claps step forward. “Fuck off, Mr Claps.” he hissed, while Claps walked on.

  *

  Fuggiano’s voice was breaking up – Maiezza was beginning to get irritated about that. “I can’t hear you… wait, I can hear you now but very badly. About that search… hello? That search – did you finish it? How long do you need? Can you… hello? For fuck’s sake! Let me know when you’re done with it… I made a fool of myself with Claps… call me when you… hello?”

  “Fuck off”. Maiezza hissed and he slid his mobile angrily into his back pocket.

  *

  Trevis was waiting for Elisa to come over.

  He had prepared a new drawing for her – a man in the woods who was working with some kind of axe and one little blonde girl who was far away on the edge of the woods, between the lake and the cliff.

  *

  It hadn’t been easy for Claps to tell the truth, even though he had imagined that Cellini would demand to know it sooner or later. Claps walked into Bench’s house and then headed down to the cellar. There, he froze for a while thinking about his conversation with Cellini: why had he asked if the investigation was about Denise? Why hadn’t he asked whether Bench was the culprit, as Claps would have expected him to?

  “Mr Claps.” Dr Portanova greeted him – Claps focused back on reality. “I’ve never had the chance to ask you if my work on Aisha’s face was of any help to you.”

  “Yes… very useful… it was… excellent work… the little girl’s… real name… was Afya.”

  “That’s a good name.” Dr Portanova commented.

  “It won’t take long until I finish the second facial reconstruction, but this one’s going to be a little less precise because I’m going to have to base it on the skull alone.”

  “It might not… be necessary.”

  “I won’t do it just out of duty, Mr Claps. Rebuilding a face… being able to give back to one their identity… it’s kind of like giving them a reward for what they had to endure in life. It’s respecting them. It’s making sure that they’re not just a bunch of nameless bones… anonymous lives, like they’ve never existed.”

  Claps lowered his eyes slightly.

  “Anyway.” Dr Portanova said, after a few seconds, breaking the awkward silence between them. “Did you want to talk to Cristina?”

  “Yes… please.”

  “She went to the hotel to get the luggage. We’re done here, we’re heading back to Milan.”

  “Did you… check again?”

  “All morning. Very carefully.”

  “Any… news?”

  “None. The most logical conclusion is that no one has visited this place for years, apart from Bench himself.”

  “Yeah… that’s what I thought.” Claps said, as he walked towards the front door.

  *

  Elisa had begun to complement Trevis’ drawing with her own input. The professor was overwhelmed by anguish, as he gradually saw what Elisa was drawing. Surprisingly, the little girl spoke again.

  “Red.”

  Trevis handed the red crayon to Elisa and he understood immediately that she needed it to colour Denise’s blood. What she began to draw soon after left him speechless.

  *

  Claps was about to get out of his car, when he saw a woman with grey hair stepping out of Cellini’s house. She was in her seventies, a little overweight, she walked slowly and she glanced quickly at Claps first, and then at Bench’s house. Claps had an intuition. “Scuse me…” He called her as soon as he stepped out of his car. “Are you… Mrs Mira?”

  “Yes, I am. I know who you are.” She sounded very confident and calm. “You asked way too many questions about poor Denise,” she said bravely. “Was it him?” She asked as she pointed to Bench’s house.

  ‘That’s the question that I would have expected from Cellini,’ Claps thought. Why had Mr Cellini never asked this question, despite it being the most natural one in the circumstances?

  “No… it wasn’t… him.”

  “I would kill him with my own hands, if I could.”

  “It wasn’t… him.”

  “Okay… but find that monster, please. I can’t even call him a person. Poor little Denise.”

  “Were you… here… when it happened?”

  “Of course I was… night and day. I was here to support Elisa and her mother. The rest of the family needed help or they would have crumbled to pieces.”

  “Do you… remember… Denise’s necklace… the one in the… ransom… photo?”

  “Of course, poor little girl, she must have been so happy to have found it again.”

  “Pa-rdon?” Claps jumped with surprise. “Found… again?”

  “She had lost it a little while before and she was so sad about it… she had become obsessed by this loss.”

  “Hang on… you mean that… Denise… had lost her… necklace… before… she was… kidnapped?” Claps wished that he could speak faster.

  Mrs Mira nodded. “It disappeared a few months before.”

  “When did… she find it… again?”

  “I don’t know, but obviously before she was kidnapped.”

  Claps tried to calm down. “Tell me… was Denise… very attached to… that necklace?”

  “Oh yes, it was a birthday present from her uncle, she always wore it.”

  “When… did you last… see Denise?”

  “Two days before the kidnapping. I remember it well, she was so joyful.”

  “Do you… remember if… she was wearing… the necklace?”

  “No, she wasn’t.”

  “Are you… sure?”

  “Of course. I would have noticed if she was wearing it and we would have talked about it, she knew that I thought that she was way too obsessed with the necklace.”

  “She must… have found it… at least… two days… prior to the… kidnapping.”

  “I think so…”

  Claps had a sudden idea. “A birthday… present, you said?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did Elisa… receive… for her birthday… instead?”

  “She also got the same necklace. They’re twins, you know. The birthday presents always tended to be the same for both the girls.”

  “Did Elisa… used to wear… the necklace?”

  “Always. She liked it as much as her sister did. However, when Denise lost her necklace, Elisa wore hers for only a little longer and then stopped. Her parents thought it was better this
way, so that Denise wouldn’t have been sad about it. They took the necklace away.”

  Claps had goosebumps. That would explain why Bench was so sure that the necklace had belonged to Denise – he had noticed that her sister Elisa had worn her necklace for a little longer.

  Claps was shocked about something much more important – many of the pieces of the puzzle had now come together suddenly.

  Claps dived back into his car and his mobile rang before he could turn on the engine. “Hey Claps, are you free to meet right about now?” Professor Trevis sounded both excited and worried, he almost screamed his words. “Elisa has drawn something. I really need to talk to you, Claps.”

  20

  “You’re not going to say anything to the stuttering man?”

  “No, Abedi… not for now, at least.” Elaji’s eyes glowed with some kind of dark light. “I know where to look for him now.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Prata and Niccioleta are the two places where the white Volvo must be. I’m going to move there for a while until I’ve found it.”

  “They’re both very close to each other, they can only be a few kilometres away from each other. Are you going to play the same game that you did when you came over here? Are you going to pretend that you don’t have any documents and that you’re looking for a job?” Abedi asked.

  “No, I want to be able to move around without any issues. I have money with me, I’ll look for a cheap place to stay.”

  “When are you going to leave?”

  “Probably tonight… I want to say goodbye properly to Djara and her mother, first.”

  Elaji wished that he could take Djara’s beautiful smile with him on his travels.

  “I have another favour to ask you, Abedi. I might need your car… just for a few more days.”

  “Please use it as though it were yours, Elaji. I don’t need it for now, use it as much as you want. Patience is like a tree – the roots are bitter, but the fruits are most sweet.”

  *

  When Claps walked into the professor’s office, he found Trevis sitting behind his desk. He looked overwhelmed and shocked, but Claps didn’t give him time to say anything. He began to speak immediately. “The necklace… in the ransoming… photo… isn’t the one… that Bench found… in the garden.”

 

‹ Prev