The Rome Prophecy

32

Tom’s surprised to see her.

Pleasantly surprised.

But then the look on Valentina’s face gives away the fact that she’s not come home early for recreational purposes.

‘Are you all right?’ He puts down the book he’s reading and gets up from the sofa to go to her.

‘Depends on your definition of all right.’ Valentina is already at the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. ‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’ She pours a glass, drinks and tops it up before putting the bottle back in the fridge. ‘If I don’t drink water as soon as I come in, then I eat like a horse.’ She slips out of her coat and goes to hang it up.

Tom can see she’s tense. Strung tighter than a new guitar. He lets her pace for a second and then opens his arms. ‘Hey, come here.’

Valentina folds herself into his embrace. Puts her face against him and silently enjoys the closeness. She’s spent so long coping with problems on her own, it’s strange to have someone around to share them with. More than strange. A little awkward. She kisses his cheek and slowly pulls away. ‘Can we talk for a minute?’

They sit alongside each other on the sofa and she takes his hand.

‘I thought I had everything locked down. Processes in place. Situation under control. Truth is, this whole damned thing isn’t making sense, and I’m starting to see shadows.’

‘Maybe talking through it will help you see some light.’

She pulls her legs up and sits facing him at the end of the sofa. ‘I went to the hospital today to see the woman we’d arrested, and she went insane. She was speaking as though she came from centuries ago and shouting weird things. Then she went crazy and nearly killed Louisa.’

‘Louisa?’

‘Verdetti, the woman in charge of the clinic. She had her by her throat and was choking the life out of her.’

‘Is she okay?’

‘Just about. Very shaken, though.’

‘I can imagine.’ Tom tries to picture the incident. ‘Was the attacker right-handed or left-handed?’

Valentina demonstrates. ‘Left-handed.’

‘I remember that you said that whoever carried out the dismemberment at the church was left-handed. Is this the same person?’

Valentina lets out a sigh. ‘That’s one of the confusing things. The blood on our suspect’s clothes doesn’t match the severed hand found at the church.’

‘Weird.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Can you put the suspect at the church?’

‘Not yet. There are no CCTV cameras around there. Canvassing of locals has come up blank. Forensics are still going over fingerprints and trace evidence to see if there’s anything to prove she was anywhere near the Bocca della Verita.’

Tom shuffles round on the sofa so he’s directly facing her. ‘What was she saying today? You said she was talking strangely.’

‘It was unbelievable. She became this totally different person.’ Valentina clicks her fingers. ‘Snap! Suddenly she was this Cassandra figure, talking as though she was back in old Roman times.’

‘And what did she say?’

She pauses to remember. ‘Nothing hugely significant. She behaved like she was a very powerful woman with a big house and lots of money.’ She laughs. ‘Cheeky bitch called me a whore!’

Tom smiles and rubs a foot that has now trespassed on to his lap. ‘If only she knew what a virtuous life you lived.’

She gives him a playful kick. ‘I was very fine and celibate until you led me astray.’

He can see mischief in her eyes. ‘What else?’

She screws up her face. ‘ Domina! Dominus! Templum! Libera nos a malo!’

‘Mistress. Master. Temple. Deliver us from evil.’

‘She said it a couple of times. Like it was a mantra.’

‘Somewhat cryptic.’

‘Louisa said that was the case with Cassandra women.’ He frowns at her.

‘It’s a psychological condition. Some kind of problem where women dissociate and start blurting out words or messages that no one else can understand.’

‘And that’s your problem. You’ve got to understand, right?’

‘Right.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yeah. Suffragio. Le anime nel purgatorio. Suffragio! I know what it means. Suffrage. The souls in Purgatory.’

‘That isn’t Latin, it’s just Italian.’

She scowls at him. ‘I know that.’

Tom becomes thoughtful. Drifts away into a world of internal focus. Tries to clear the white noise and pick out the key words. Mistress. Master. Temple. Suffrage. Souls. Purgatory. He feels like he’s grasping at straws. ‘The Latin she did use is stilted. All I can think of is that maybe it’s a reference to some ancient gods who share a temple. Does that mean anything?’

He takes the puzzled look on her face to be a no.

‘The last part might be easier. Isn’t there a temple or special church dedicated to souls or suffrage?’

She laughs. ‘Absolutely. About a thousand of them.’

‘No, seriously. I’m sure I recall – from my previous job – somewhere specific, a chiesa run by a special mission.’

She unfolds herself and walks across the room. ‘My Latin is about as poor as my regular church attendance. All I can remember is Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.’

Tom laughs. ‘Never tickle a sleeping dragon?’

‘That’s it! Straight out of Harry Potter – a Hogwarts motto, I think.’ From a shelf she collects a handful of tourist leaflets and guide books. ‘These came free with the apartment.’ She drops a pile on his lap ‘Every place of interest in Rome is covered in there. You search those and I’ll look through these.’

She sits back down and makes the mistake of stretching her legs out into his space.

Tom grabs her feet and pulls her flat on to the sofa. Valentina can’t help but let out a girlish shriek.

He leans over the top of her, arms as broad as the pillars of the Pantheon, a smile as wide as the Tiber. ‘In a minute. We’ll do them in a minute. Okay?’

Valentina’s eyes sparkle. She tilts her chin so her mouth is so close to his she can feel his breath on her lips, ‘Fine by me. But if we’re stopping, it’d better take more than just a minute.’