‘Indeed, Murray, and we need to find out the nature of that mission.’
‘A strange sort of man to be looking for,’ James remarked.
Lombroso paused and stroked his beard, as he always did when thinking.
‘What makes you so sure it is a man? Women kill too. We should not jump to any hasty conclusions.’
‘Would a woman have the necessary strength to commit these crimes?’ Tullio asked.
‘Ah, an excellent question! What do you think, Murray?’
‘I think it is unlikely, Professor. A woman would not possess the physical strength, in my view.’
Lombroso looked at him. ‘I agree that it would be unusual but we must consider the possibility.’
‘Well,’ James said slowly, ‘a garrotte has the element of surprise and Soldati was not a young man. I suppose if the woman was tall enough and had sufficient muscular development in her upper arms, she might be able to manage it. The mutilation though . . . I would argue that it does not seem to me to be the work of a woman. It would take a lot of physical strength.’
‘Again I agree, Murray, but it is not impossible and we must examine the unexpected as well as the likely, if only to exclude it, as no doubt Dr Bell taught you. What about the other killings?’
‘The second victim had his throat cut, and was then mutilated, possibly before death,’ Tullio said.
‘Well, that is uncertain,’ Ottolenghi said. ‘It could have been just after. Presumably we only have the word of Dr Gallini that it was otherwise and he is hardly reliable. He’ll say anything to impress Machinetti.’
‘Hmm, I do not think we should pay much attention to the view of anyone who thinks it is necessary to impress the marshal,’ Lombroso commented cuttingly.
Tullio ignored this and went on. ‘Assuming he was bludgeoned first or that again there was an element of surprise, then a woman could have killed Mancini.’
‘And Ausano too – so again we cannot rule out the hand of a woman,’ Ottolenghi said, ‘though she would have to have been unusually strong.’
‘There are plenty of women with that kind of strength. Serving girls, washerwomen and the like,’ Tullio said. ‘You have only to wander round the Porta Palazzo market to see that.’
Lombroso nodded. ‘So you see, gentlemen, we should not be too hasty to exclude the possibility of a female killer, however disturbing we may find the idea.’
‘But what kind of a person, male or female, would do such a thing?’ James asked.
Lombroso had got up by now and was pacing around the room. He studied the blackboard that James had been dutifully filling with the information they had discussed. He started to mutter to himself. The three young men looked at each other and Ottolenghi shrugged. It looked as if genius was at work and none of them felt ready to interrupt. Eventually Lombroso stopped and turned to them.
‘We have already discussed the idea that the perpetrator of these crimes must be insane but I do not think we are looking for a drooling madman here. There are, throughout history, men and women who commit violent crimes without a hint of remorse. Such people when questioned are often quite amazed to discover that other people have feelings.’
‘So is this the sort of person we are looking for, Professor?’ Tullio asked.
‘Well, that is difficult to say. The evidence suggests that the killings are very much pre-meditated. These do not seem to be chance encounters and the victims all have underworld connections, which is interesting.’
‘And of course they are all connected to you, Professor,’ James said.
‘Indeed, that is so, which indicates a high level of organisation, does it not?’
They all nodded.
‘This killer is not a born criminal, it seems to me,’ Lombroso said. ‘Quite the contrary, in fact. His madness has grown from some event that has happened to him in the past.’
‘How will we know this killer? What physical characteristics might he possess?’ Tullio asked eagerly.
‘If this is an habitual killer, then the eyes would be cold and perhaps bloodshot, the nose will be aquiline or at least large, the jaw strong and the lips thin with well-developed canine teeth. The hair will be abundant and, if it is a man, the beard will be scanty,’ Lombroso replied.
James stared at him in wonder. How could he possibly know what the killer looked like? It was almost as if he knew who it was.
‘Is this definitely a case of one killer committing all of these crimes?’ Ottolenghi asked.
‘I would say so,’ Lombroso agreed. ‘They seem too similar to suggest otherwise and I gather that Machinetti has kept all mention of the note out of the newspapers which would indicate that this is not a case of someone copying the killer.’
Tullio confirmed this and went on, ‘One of the questions that we need to explore is this. Why does he choose these particular victims?’
This had been puzzling James and he waited with interest for Lombroso’s comments.
There was an awkward pause. The answer hung in the air, a truth that no one wanted to acknowledge. Lombroso sighed, his words filling the uncomfortable silence.
‘As I said earlier, I believe that they died because of their connection to me,’ he said sadly. ‘I can think of no other reason.’
‘We also need to know how the murderer knew of the connection,’ James added.
‘Yes indeed,’ Lombroso agreed.
‘How do you select your subjects, Professor?’ Tullio asked.
‘They are mostly chosen for me by whoever is in charge of the institution in which they are incarcerated,’ he replied.
‘And if they are not incarcerated?’ Tullio asked.
‘They usually approach me.’
Ottolenghi nodded. ‘It is well known amongst the criminal classes that the professor requires subjects for his experiments and that he pays well. Also . . .’ Ottolenghi paused and looked at James.
‘Go on,’ Tullio urged.
Ottolenghi continued. ‘Also, Sofia has certain contacts.’
James looked at him and wondered why he had mentioned her. Did he think that Sofia could be involved in some way? He thought back to the evening that they had found her in La Capra. Could it really be no more than a coincidence? And what of her connections to Rosa Bruno and Reiner?
Lombroso took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, wearily. ‘I do feel responsible. The killer wants my attention. We need to find out why.’
‘Perhaps the bodies will tell us more,’ Ottolenghi said.
‘Indeed. When can I see them, Tullio, do you suppose?’ Lombroso asked briskly.
‘Machinetti has a meeting with the mayor this afternoon, so he will not be an obstacle,’ he replied.
‘Eccellente,’ Lombroso beamed, having shaken off his melancholy. ‘Let us meet then. Now, though, I will take my leave of you, gentlemen. I am a little tired. Tullio, we will see you later.’
They all went their separate ways; Lombroso to his study in order to think and doze a little, Tullio to the security police headquarters and Ottolenghi and James to an upstairs laboratory to measure the Madagascan skulls. All of them, though, had little else on their minds other than the murders. James was excited, although he felt slightly guilty for feeling so. At last the real hunt for the killer was underway. But at the back of his mind he was also fearful. He had come to Turin on a quest for certainty but all he had experienced to date was the direct opposite. No one was as they had first appeared and secrets were everywhere. Not for the first time in his life he felt that there was no one that he could really trust. There was a killer at large and it could be almost anyone.
14
Religion, which tends to preserve ancient habits and customs, certainly perpetuates the practice of tattooing.
Lombroso, 1876 p 60
A few hours later they entered the city’s morgue, a suitably dark and forbidding building attached to the university’s pathology department. All the bodies had been assembled in the high-ceilinged room. As James loo
ked up at the two tiny windows which let in a small amount of light, he thought that they looked like eyes peering down at the poor unfortunates who lay on the slabs before them. Lombroso approached the nearest of these and pulled back the sheet that covered the corpse. It was that of Giuseppe Soldati. The professor began to examine the body, pulling it this way and that, prodding and peering at it through his little wire glasses. At first Ottolenghi and James kept their distance, not wishing to get in the way. Tullio stood at the door, keeping a lookout.
Lombroso beckoned them over impatiently. ‘Come, come, gentlemen. This is no time to be squeamish.’
They went over to the corpse and looked on. After a few minutes of various muted but interested noises Lombroso stood back and sighed.
‘Have you found anything, Professor?’ James whispered.
‘Perhaps, but you must be patient. Rome was not built in a day! Now, Tullio, show me the next one, if you please.’
Tullio complied, lifting the sheet that covered Pietro Mancini. Lombroso was quicker with the second body, as if he knew now exactly what he was looking for. It was the same with the remains of Ausano. Once the sheet was lifted he made a perfunctory examination and then paused before looking at it more carefully. When he had found what he sought he spoke to Tullio.
‘Has Dr Gallini said anything of note to Machinetti about the bodies?’
‘Not as far as I am aware,’ Tullio replied. ‘He merely informed him of the cause of death and approximate times. There was nothing else. His examination was somewhat perfunctory, the cause of death being obvious, according to him. Why, Professor? Have you found something?’
Lombroso stroked his beard. ‘Perhaps. I will give it some thought and we can discuss it later.’
With that he left abruptly, without revealing his findings. It seemed to James that this was not so much because of a need for the professor to collect his thoughts but more a case of creating a dramatic tension. Lombroso’s theatricality was all very well in a lecture, he thought, but here it just seemed self-indulgent.
Dutifully Tullio began to replace the sheets over the corpses. James turned before leaving the room, looking at the forms lying there on the cold mortuary slabs beneath their final covering before burial. He shivered, not from the cold air but from the thought of death and its randomness. Even if the killer, as seemed likely from the evidence, had chosen these victims, was it merely because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did they just attract his attention because they laughed a little too loudly or brushed past him in the street, or were they simply associated with the wrong person – in this case, Lombroso? He shivered again, this time through fear. Then he steeled himself. The priority was to find this murderer and everything must be focused on that, for until he – or she – was in custody, no one in Turin was safe.
That evening they all reassembled in the same room as before. There was an atmosphere of expectancy. Lombroso looked excited. His cheeks were slightly pink and he moved around the room touching things, picking them up and putting them down again in a slightly distracted manner. Every now and again he would give what looked like a little jump as if he could hardly contain himself. Eventually, once he was satisfied that there was the correct amount of tension for the revelation of his findings, he began.
‘Gentlemen, we were searching for connections between the victims other than the bloody notes and their association with me. I can tell you now that I believe that I have found such a connection.’
Lombroso paused and looked around the room as if he was addressing a large audience rather than just the three of them. The suspense had built to such a crescendo that it was almost audible. He threw his arms out as if declaiming.
‘The bodies are marked,’ he boomed.
There was an awkward silence as they all tried to work out if that was all that was to be said. James noticed that Tullio did not seem as surprised as the rest of them. He had a slight smile on his face as if he knew more than he was saying. Eventually Ottolenghi intervened.
‘In what way were they marked, Professor?’
Lombroso took a deep breath in order to make his announcement.
‘Il segno del diavolo!’ Tullio exclaimed.
Lombroso looked rather irritated at the theft of his limelight. ‘How did you know that?’ he asked.
Tullio shrugged. ‘I saw it when you were examining the last body.’
Lombroso narrowed his eyes as if trying to decide how to react. He chose to be generous. ‘Young man, you have guessed correctly. The inverted cross, the sign of the Devil, was carved into the left shoulder of each victim.’
‘Isn’t the inverted cross also a sign of St Peter? What could it mean?’ James asked. He knew that he had seen such a cross somewhere recently but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where.
‘At the moment I confess that I do not know the answer to your question,’ replied Lombroso. ‘However, I doubt that its use by the killer indicates an allegiance to Christianity.’ He turned to Tullio. ‘Do you know any active covens or sects, Devil worshippers and so on, who use the symbol?’
‘It is hard to believe that such things could go on here,’ James commented. ‘Turin seems to be such a civilised and modern city.’
Ottolenghi grinned. ‘James, you’ve met Father Vincenzo, and he’s the respectable side. He just believes in the Devil rather than worshipping him. This city has been known for its attachment to Satanism for centuries.’
Lombroso nodded. ‘For all our knowledge and science we still seem to possess an unhealthy interest in the supernatural in general and the black arts in particular. Such nonsense!’
Tullio nodded. ‘Professor, I am afraid that the answer to your question is that most such organisations, and there are plenty that are currently active, have used that symbol at one time or another.’
‘But what does it signify?’ James asked.
Lombroso and Tullio both paused and then, seemingly in perfect unison, gave their answer.
‘Evil.’
‘I thought that you said it was nonsense, Professor,’ James protested, somewhat confused.
‘It is exactly that, but those who use this symbol believe in the supremacy of the Devil. They follow their master in everything and that includes a propensity to murder.’
‘So the murderer is likely to be some kind of Satanist, then?’ James asked.
‘Looks like it,’ Tullio said.
Lombroso did not agree. ‘Not necessarily. We should not be too hasty in our conclusion.’
‘It is worth following up though, Professor?’ Tullio said.
‘Indeed it is,’ agreed Lombroso. ‘But I am not sure you will find out much without the advice of an expert and it is not without risk. These people are deranged and almost certainly dangerous.’
‘Then what do you suggest?’
‘Leave it to me. I think I know someone who can help us,’ Lombroso said.
Tullio gave a short bow. ‘Of course. I will return to headquarters and see if I can find out anything from my colleagues. I’ll see myself out.’ As he left, James wished that he had waited for Sofia to escort him to the front door. Even a glimpse would be something.
Lombroso looked at them, thoughtfully. ‘I think we have achieved much today. But now, is there anything else we should consider?’ He pulled out a carafe of ruby red port from a cupboard and proceeded to pour three generous glasses.
There was a silence as they considered the events of the last week. So much had happened and at such a speed that it was something of a relief to just sit and think about it quietly. It was Ottolenghi who eventually broke the silence.
‘We have not discussed the mutilations,’ he said. ‘They must mean something.’
Lombroso nodded thoughtfully. ‘A message of some sort? Yes, I think that is more than likely, Ottolenghi.’
‘But what could they signify?’ James asked. ‘The body parts are all different.’
‘Perhaps that is the point,’ replied
Lombroso. ‘It could be part of the message. So what do we have?’
‘Nose and ears for Soldati, the tongue, teeth and eyes for Mancini and the half face and hair for Ausano,’ Ottolenghi said slowly, looking down at the floor as if the body parts were laid out before him.
‘Did they use them to commit their crimes?’ James asked. ‘Wasn’t Mancini an informer?’
Ottolenghi looked excited. ‘Of course! What do you think, Professor?’
Lombroso shook his head. ‘No, I don’t see how that fits. Soldati was a thief. He didn’t use his nose and ears for that. And Ausano was a pickpocket. I do not see how his face and hair came into that.’
‘Surely the body parts must mean something though?’ Ottolenghi said. ‘Otherwise why perform the mutilations in the first place. You said yourself that they were done with care.’
Lombroso frowned. ‘Did I? I don’t remember saying so, although, having seen the bodies, I do agree. There must be a reason,’ he murmured, frowning with concentration.
James was thinking through the list of mutilations. They were clearly done in a very deliberate way and listening to them recited by Ottolenghi had jogged something in his memory. Suddenly it came to him.
‘Professor, do you have a copy of your book, Criminal Man, to hand?’
Lombroso looked at him curiously. ‘Ottolenghi, could you go into my study and fetch the first edition of L’Uomo Delinquente? You know where it is.’
Ottolenghi nodded and left to do Lombroso’s bidding. The professor strode around the room, excitedly, muttering to himself under his breath. After what seemed an age, Ottolenghi returned with the book.
Lombroso handed it to James who started to flick through it. He found a particular passage, smiled to himself with satisfaction and handed it back to Lombroso, indicating the place with his finger. Lombroso almost snatched it from him and began to study it, muttering all the while.
‘Yes, yes, I see now . . . that’s right . . . of course, it could be nothing else . . . naturally, naturally . . . ears, nose . . . yes . . . correct . . . and now . . . the tongue . . . but of course! I should have seen it straight away . . . and the last piece in the puzzle . . . aaahhh!’ He sighed and flopped down onto an armchair, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Then he looked up. ‘Well done, Murray!’
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