Charon's Net
Gemma Herrero Virto
Translated by Rachel Christina Hopkinson
“Charon's Net”
Written By Gemma Herrero Virto
Copyright © 2018 Gemma Herrero Virto
All rights reserved
Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.
www.babelcube.com
Translated by Rachel Christina Hopkinson
“Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Charon's Net
AUTHOR’S NOTE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
II. THE SEARCH
CHAPTER ONE
Andromeda, Angelmist, Aroha, Becky, Charon, Chuck, Galahadran, Ghost, Jeroen, Moonchild, Noone, Phoenix, Ramón, Ray, Target.
Aina, Albert, Bluesman, Bristol, CallistaZM, Charon, Crystal, Darunee, Djm, Frothug, Germangod, Jurgen, Linamaria, Lucifer, Mic, Neo, Pascal, Radek, Salvatore, Shital25M, Sileef.
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
III. THE RESULTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Your Review and Word-of-Mouth Recommendations Will Make a Difference
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To Julen, for believing in my follies more than I myself.
To Luana and Halley, for the loveliest looks in the world.
To Iratxe, Jessica, and Izaskun, for the fights and the laughs.
To my parents, for everything.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The original book, as was intended, included a series of web chat transcriptions in which, in order to differentiate the participants, different fonts were used. Even included in one of the chapters is a graphological analysis of the font that the killer used in their conversations (in case you are curious, it is Lucida Calligraphy).
Unfortunately, upon putting the book into electronic form, the changes in font and sizing caused a formatting error, thus we had to remove them. I therefore ask you that, just as you use your imagination to see the different places and characters in the novel, you might also use it in order to make up for this technical problem.
I hope that you enjoy the novel.
All the best,
Gemma HerreroVirto
PROLOGUE
It was the perfect place. The ditch by the side of a dark and solitary road, the steep drop, the dense undergrowth at the bottom of it... It would take them a very long time to find her. I opened the boot and, with great effort, hauled out the shape wrapped up in plastic. It seemed impossible that such a small body could weigh so much. I tried dragging it, but could not find a single place to get purchase on it. The sweat on my hands was causing them to slip about. With one mighty pull, I unrolled it onto the road, to free it from its covering. I crouched down and grabbed her under the arms, trying not to focus on the blood, on the terrible injuries... I pulled hard, and managed to move the body, a few centimetres at a time.
A light illuminated the scene. I heard the distant purring of an engine. Something was coming. I made even more of an effort to drag the body, until I managed to get so that I had the car between myself and the other vehicle on the road. I crouched down and held my breath, whilst the bright light grew stronger. It sounded to me like it was slowing down, and I pleaded in silence for it not to stop. The car passed alongside me slowly, the light gliding over the girl’s body, revealing the cuts, the mutilations... I closed my eyes tightly, trying to erase from my memory the images that were assaulting my mind, damaging me: her sparkling eyes, her excited smile, her sweetness... I got up, fighting to contain the tears. I needed to get rid of that thing as soon as possible. There was no use in torturing myself. It was done now, and there would be no going back.
I went back to getting rid of the body. I brought it to the edge, and I pushed it. It fell for an infinitely long time, as if the wind were trying to keep it in the air. I forced myself to watch it until it disappeared in the darkness, trying to ensure that it would not be visible from the road. It was done. Now I needed to forget about the guilt, erase the memories of the screaming, of the blood, of the softness of the body and the hardness of bone. I had done what I had to, and I had nothing to be sorry about. The sacrifice had carried out its function; it had given me a little time, an opportunity for atonement. And it had made me feel at peace, something which, up until that night, I had thought to be forbidden forever.
THE CONNECTION
CHAPTER ONE
She parked on the hard shoulder and waited a few seconds, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Natalia tried to calm her racing heartbeat. The official cars parked alongside the road told her that she had arrived. This was the first crime scene she had been assigned to as a medical examiner, and she wanted to do it well. She needed to do it well. She watched the lights coming from the road, streaking in between the trees. Down there must be the police cordon. The slope leading to it seemed very steep, and the low branches prevented making out any practical route. She got out of the car and approached the drop. There was no path, only a gradient, made slippery by the incessant rain.
She collected her workbag and, cursing herself for having put on those high-heeled shoes, began her way down the slope. The trees, sad and sickly in that light, were very close together, and made it difficult for her to move forward, but they did allow her to go along supporting herself on their trunks in order to avoid taking a rolling tumble. The forest appeared to be coated by a dense mist that seemed to turn the landscape into something diffuse, as if silvery ghosts were dancing between the low branches. The air was so laden with damp that it seemed to flood her mouth with every breath. She could smell soaked earth, rotten leaves, dark places... It almost felt as though she were walking along on a soft mattress, formed by the mud and the dead leaves accumulated there over the course of years. The sensation beneath her feet reminded her of the texture of the flesh of decomposing corpses, causing her to feel ill.
The trees were progressively thinning out, giving way to a clearing in which a group of officers were moving quickly but in an organised fashion. In spite of the prevailing activity, her eyes fixated on the shape lying on the ground, covered by a yellow anorak that the rain had pinned down to the body, clearly sketching out every contour. She felt her pulse pick up speed once more. It was so small...
She approached, greeting with a nod, before stopping a few metres away. There, two men were taking notes. Natalia watched them for a few seconds, each one of them absorbed in their own work, without even consulting each other or saying a single word. One of them looked up from what he was writing and went up to her. Once he was closer, Natalia recognised him. Carlos Vega, one of the most experienced murder detectives at headquarters. She straightened up, adopting a more professional pose. Couldn’t she have ended up with someone who wouldn’t notice every slightest mistake she could make? He took off his gloves, put them in a pocket of his worn out coat, and tried, unsuccessfully, to push aside some damp strands of black hair that were falling messily on his forehead.
“Good evening.
I am Natalia Egaña, the medical examiner assigned to the case,” she greeted.
“Good evening,” he replied. “Could you tell me where Doctor Salazar is? I called the station asking for them to send him.”
“I know, but he was busy. Don’t worry; I can take charge of it.”
He looked at her for a few seconds, shrugged his shoulders, and turned to walk towards the edge of the clearing.
“Okay. I’ll have to settle for what there is.”
Natalia followed him, hurt. It was true that she did not have experience in the investigation of a crime scene and that she felt nervous, but she had the necessary knowledge for the job, and he had no right to prejudge her like that.
“Don’t worry. I guarantee you that my work will be so professional that, in the eventuality that some error is made in this case, it will only be due to your ineptitude,” she told him, emphasizing the last two words. “What have you found?”
He turned towards her, his brow furrowed. Natalia held his gaze, challenging him to answer her, but he did not say anything. He continued walking, before stopping alongside one of the officers.
“Excuse me, could you go off with one of your colleagues to cordon off that area?”
Carlos pointed to an open space situated a few metres higher up from where the body was found. Judging by the lights from the cars that were illuminating it every now and then, there had to be a road very nearby.
“Why have you sent them there?” insisted Natalia, positioning herself by his side.
“It’s impossible for the killer to have got the body down here through where we came ourselves. And it would also be very difficult to have forced her to go down if she was still alive, unless it was done by a group, which doesn’t convince me. For that reason I believe that, given how isolated this place is, the killer must have brought her here by car, stopped in that place for a few moments, and hurled her from there,” Carlos was pointing out the different places that he was referring to. “Besides, given the arrangement of her limbs, it’s easy to deduce that the body fell from a height, although judging by the rest of her injuries, I think she was already dead by that point. Any more questions?”
Natalia shook her head, feeling uncomfortable. What had that been? A masterful lecture for the ‘rookie’? She had not even had the opportunity to see the body, but he was talking to her as if she was expected to have already worked it out. She took a few steps away from him, making her way back to the centre of the clearing. Roberto, Carlos’s partner, was still writing in his notebook. On hearing her approaching steps, he looked up for a second, to instantly look back down again without greeting her. Natalia looked at him, annoyed. She had heard a lot about him at headquarters, and virtually nothing good. He belonged to the academy’s elite, number one in his year, some kind of FBI super-agent. He even looked the part: impeccable grey designer suits, young, tall, good-looking... He even flaunted a perfect dimple in his chin. Natalia tried to ignore the initial feeling of aversion that he produced in her and went up to the body, feeling instantly struck by the stench of putrefying flesh. She lifted the raincoat by one corner. The image shook her, inducing an intense feeling of nausea, as if her brain was trying to switch off, in order to ignore the horror. She breathed deeply and forced herself to have some control. She was a professional; she had already seen other dead bodies. Behaving mechanically, she carried out, at full speed, the established procedures for certifying the death, and put the raincoat back down again, as if, with it, she would be able to make it so that the body was not there. She looked up, and met Roberto’s gaze. He had definitely been assessing her, and her first reaction had not passed by unnoticed. She stood up, avoiding his eyes to write in her notebook.
“Could the raincoat belong to the killer?”
“No, it’s from one of the hunters who found her,” replied Roberto, chuckling. “The big idiot took the trouble to cover the girl up and leave her like this before going to call us.”
Natalia felt the urge to ask him what was so funny about compassion, but she preferred to let it go. She moved away from the body and walked towards Carlos, to let him know that they could now proceed with the removal of the body. Within a few steps, she left the cordoned off area and began to note down her first impressions. She raised her head and cast another glance at her surroundings, observing as the powerful spotlights tore through the mist and gave the gentle rain a golden cast. In the middle of all of that, the yellow raincoat demanded all of her attention. She was finding it difficult to concentrate on the report she had to write, as if her mind was refusing to remember that mutilated body, those empty eye-sockets... A tear fell from one of her eyes onto the notebook, dissolving the ink. Natalia closed the pages, and supported herself against the trunk of a tree, glad that the rain, which continued to fall unstoppably, would hide how unprofessional she was feeling.
***
The body was lying on the post-mortem table, now covered by a white sheet. Natalia walked all around, knowing that she would not be able to hold off the moment much longer. She had already prepared all of her instruments meticulously, trying to find calm and strength in that familiar ritual, but she continued to feel uncomfortable, out of place. She made her way to the sink that was situated in the corner of the room, and she washed her hands. The small mirror returned her image. It seemed like the same old Natalia, but she realised that that was not so. Her skin was paler, and in her grey eyes, which normally exhibited a confident gaze, shone with fear.
“You’re terrified,” her reflection told her, whilst she gathered her long brown hair into a bun. “You have to get a hold of yourself. It’s just work.”
She situated herself back in front of the table. She needed to try to find the positive side to all of this. She was dealing with a big case, the violent murder of a teenage girl. It was not something that happened very often in Biscay and, indeed, it was even more exceptional that it would have been assigned to a medical examiner that had just joined the Ertzaintza, the Basque police force, and still had everything to prove. That meant that they trusted her, that her CV had impressed them. And, if she managed to do this job well, if she managed to provide relevant leads for the resolution of the case, it could take her even higher: a shining promotion, a brilliant career... That was what she had been fighting for her whole life. Feeling more confident, she uncovered the body, to find herself struck once more by the horror, the incredulity, and the desire to take vengeance on the person who could have committed those atrocities on that girl. She supported herself for a moment on the table with her eyes closed. She needed to be professional. Doing her job well was the most effective way of taking revenge, of getting that monster to pay for what he had done. She opened her eyes again, forcing herself to leave her feelings to one side. After all, she had spent a lifetime doing that.
***
Hours later, she called the homicide section and told them that she now had the results. Whilst she was waiting for one of the inspectors to come down and see her, she sat down to go over the report she had prepared. The door opened a few minutes later, and Carlos entered the office. Natalia looked up, but he did not greet her. He limited himself to standing still, looking at her. She felt uncomfortable with his gaze. It seemed to her that he was evaluating her just as he would have done with the waitress on the other side of the counter whom he was planning to pick up. She decided to assess him also: dark hair that fell untidily over his forehead, sparkling green eyes, noticeable features. She could have found him attractive if it were not for his sloppy appearance and the fact that he must have been around forty. He did not appear to be uncomfortable with the examination, so she snapped the file shut and fixed him with an angry look:
“So? Do you plan on standing there without asking anything? You don’t have any questions?”
“Yes, I have one... How do you manage to come across as the coldest person here in this room if all the rest are dead?” asked Carlos with a smile.
“Lovely. Do you win over a lot
of women’s hearts with such a sweet nature?”
“My nature is considerably sweeter with the women who interest me. Unfortunately, that is a facet of myself that you will never uncover,” Natalia looked at him sarcastically for a few seconds, making it clear what very little interest the facets of Carlos’s personality stirred up within her. “Well, enough of this nonsense. We need to work together, so let’s try not to kill each other. What have you discovered?”
“All right, Bianca Rodriguez, fourteen years old, white female...” she began to recite.
“All of Biscay knows that by now, I’ve heard it on the television... Is there anything that only you know?”
“You had said that we were going to try to get along well,” she said, raising her gaze from the report. “The cause of death is a stab wound to the heart, which cut through the right coronary artery. Also present is the amputation of both hands, removal of the eyeballs, and three haematomas on the occipital...”
“On the what? Listen, if I wanted to read technical words, I would read your report. I’ve come here so that you can explain it to me.”
“All right, don’t get angry. I thought you were understanding me,” Natalia smiled slightly. Now he was on her turf, she would make him pay for the lecture of the previous night. “Bianca received three blows to the base of the skull, most likely with the aim of rendering her unconscious and being able to move her. The killer stabbed her in the heart with a knife some fifteen centimetres long, cut off her hands, I think with either an axe or a machete. Then he emptied out the eye sockets, I imagine with the same knife he used to kill her, since I’ve found a large number of indentations in the periorbital area, which indicates that the removal was not carried out with a precision instrument. Neither the knife nor the axe have been found, the same as with the eyes and the hands.”
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