The Rome Prophecy

44

A windy morning miraculously morphs into a mild and sunny lunchtime.

It’s a long way until spring but is still warm enough for Valentina to take her tray of food to a table on the patio outside the police canteen.

She’s more than ready for the break.

The morning has been brutal.

First the bad news from the forensic labs, then the strange report Federico has just phoned in from the mortuary.

A dead eunuch?

What sense does that make?

She takes a tomato salad, two slices of fresh rustic bread, an espresso and a glass of water off her tray.

While she eats with just a fork, she stifles a yawn and scribbles in her notebook.

The body by the Tiber is a major development, but it’s also a huge distraction. All the real clues to cracking the case surely lie in the multiple personalities of the woman they are calling Prisoner X, the thin slip of a thing confined to a hospital bed at the Policlinico.

Valentina downs her espresso and quickly sketches out names, ages and the briefest of details presented by the suspect’s several personalities.

The small chart makes fascinating reading.

Suzanna and Little Suzie seem to be the two contemporary personalities, while Claudia and Cassandra – both classic Roman names – are the ‘legendary’ alters.

Little Suzie alluded to the fact that there were many others.

Are there really more? Questions stick like bugs on a wind-screen.

Why do two of the personalities use the name Suzanna? Valentina thinks there’s a psychological reason – maybe a bridge to her real life. It could be that Suzanna is the name of someone who’s been kind to her, supported her through difficult times, or perhaps it’s someone she admired.

Valentina has already made sure the Carabinieri’s records team has checked out the surname Grecoraci.

They drew blanks.

So too did the hospital’s own enquiries.

No one with that name fitting Suzanna’s age and physical description has shown up on any official records anywhere across Italy. But to the best of Valentina’s knowledge, no one has run a check on Suzanna Fratelli. She makes a note to action the search – and also for Cassandra Fratelli and Claudia Fratelli.

The sky is starting to cloud over and the warmth is disappearing from the patio. She heads back inside and leaves her food tray on a lopsided rack by the canteen door. She takes the stairs rather than the lift and thinks about calling Tom before she enters what she knows will be a dreadful meeting with Caesario.

Predictably, Armando Caesario’s office is one of the grandest in the building. Occupying a south-facing corner position with enough floor space to double as a parade ground.

The wooden floor is dark and polished and creaks as she walks over it. To her left is a seating area, marked by a large Indian rug full of deep reds and two chestnut-coloured leather settees. The rest of the room is dominated by a giant mahogany desk straight in front of her. The small man sitting behind it is backlit by a large sash window with a view across the city. Old hardback chairs covered in faded brown leather stand to attention to the front and flanks of the major’s desk. This is not a room where anyone is meant to feel at ease.

‘Sit!’ Caesario mumbles through his chins while he finishes writing.

There’s a knock on the door behind Valentina.

‘Enter!’

Even before Valentina turns her head, she knows who it is.

Lieutenant Federico Assante walks noisily across the wood. Without speaking, he takes the chair at the end of the desk. The one nearest Caesario.

The major downs his pen. He clasps his hands and looks up at them both. His face bears the expression of a disappointed father who’s gathered his wayward children for a scolding. ‘Captain Morassi – it’s been brought to my attention that you have without authorisation involved a civilian in a major criminal investigation and as a consequence probably compromised our enquiries.’

Valentina gazes blankly at her superior officer. ‘I don’t believe anything has been compromised, sir. With respect, the civilian’s involvement advanced our enquiries rather than compromised them.’

Caesario sighs and leans back in his big leather chair. ‘How so?’

Valentina shoots Federico a withering look. ‘The man you are referring to is Tom Shaman. He worked with me on the serial murder case in Venice that you know of and he proved invaluable to our units there. If you wish, I’m sure Major Vito Carvalho will vouch for his integrity. My-’

‘ Ex- Major Carvalho,’ interjects Caesario, ‘and to be honest, I don’t wish. Captain, I didn’t ask you for a character reference, I asked you to substantiate your claim that this man advanced our enquiries.’

‘Sir, Tom discovered the body. He happened to be with me when I visited the Ponte Fabricio with Louisa Verdetti, the clinical director of the Policlinico Umberto.’

‘Stop!’ Caesario raises his hand like a traffic cop. ‘Let me back up here. Lieutenant Assante, were you not the first officer I sent to the original crime scene in Cosmedin?’

‘Yes, sir. I was, sir.’

‘And as a local officer with local knowledge, did I not give you an express command to keep me fully briefed until this matter was cleared up?’

‘Yes, sir, you did, sir.’

‘Good. I’m glad we’re clear about that. So how is it, Lieutenant, that until this morning, you did not tell me anything about the expanded scale of the inquiry and the involvement of civilians and non-Carabinieri medics?’

‘I didn’t know, sir. Not until afterwards.’

Valentina tries to jump in. ‘With respect, Major-’

‘Be quiet, Captain. Keeping your mouth shut is the best way you can show me respect. I’ll come back to your explanation in a moment.’

Caesario angles his body towards Assante. ‘You were saying, Lieutenant – you didn’t know until afterwards… finish your excuse.’

‘Captain Morassi called me at home and explained that she had visited the clinic. She said she had spoken to both the doctor and the prisoner and consequently visited the area near Tiber Island where the body of a male was found. It was only when I arrived at the scene that I realised there was a relationship between the captain and the civilian who found the body.’

The major again halts the conversation with his traffic cop hand. ‘Explain, Captain.’

‘Explain what, sir?’ She knows exactly what he means. And what’s going on. The sexist pig is dressing her down. Humiliating her. Showing her his station house is run by men – men who don’t take kindly to women being given positions of senior rank.

Caesario puts his elbows on the desk and then leans forward on pale, chubby forearms. ‘Let’s start with your relationship with this man, Tom Shaman. Explain it to me.’

Valentina feels Assante’s eyes on her. The disloyal son-ofa-bitch is enjoying every second of this. She swallows and stays calm. ‘Tom and I have a sexual relationship. A recent one. He is currently living with me.’

Caesario can’t help but look smug. ‘I see. And…’

‘Is this a disciplinary inquiry, sir?’ Valentina puts her hands on the edge of his desk and pointedly leans towards him. ‘Because if it is, then I believe I should have been properly notified, and I haven’t been.’

The major can barely believe her cheek.

Valentina’s not done. ‘Major, I must also formally object to the manner in which you have encouraged Lieutenant Assante to report directly to you on an operational matter that you personally called me in on and asked me to take charge of.’

Now it’s Caesario’s turn to try to control his anger. ‘Oh, must you?’

Valentina stands. Her chair scrapes noisily across the wooden floor. ‘Sir, to be clear, I wish to put on record the fact that I believe your instructions undermined my position, and I feel I should inform you that I will be writing contemporaneous notes of this meeting and seeking representation.’

‘Sit down, Captain!’

Valentina remains standing.

‘Sit down – that’s an order!’

Valentina sits. She pulls the chair up under her legs and feels herself shake.

‘Assante, get out. Leave us alone.’

The lieutenant rises, salutes and leaves without comment.

The door at the far end of the room clicks shut. Caesario stares across his desk and draws a long breath. ‘What are you doing?’

Valentina is fiddling nervously with her cell phone.

‘I’m sorry, sir. I forgot to mute my phone and there was a call coming in.’

He can’t believe the girl. Insolent. Distracted. Unfocused. ‘Put it down! For God’s sake, woman, how unprofessional can you be?’

Valentina all but drops the BlackBerry on the edge of his desk. ‘I’m not unprofessional, sir. Far from it.’

Alone now, with the door shut, his anger boils over. ‘Not unprofessional? I’ll tell you what you are. You’re a joke, Morassi, that’s what you are. If the top brass weren’t under political pressure to have some skirts wearing senior rank, you’d be out doing traffic duty. Correction, traffic duty is too important a job for women; you’d be filing reports.’

‘Sir!’

‘Don’t be so damned insolent, Captain. When a senior officer is talking, you sit and listen. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good.’ His voice becomes almost normal. ‘Look, I don’t know who you impressed or how you impressed them, but I didn’t want you here and I still don’t want you here. Your face is plastered across magazines, my press office is logjammed with requests to talk to you. You are a liability, Captain.’

‘Sir, it was the press office that insisted I did the Vanity Fair shoot. I assure you I have no desire to have cameras pointed at me.’

‘Enough!’ He drums his sausage fingers on the desk and grits his teeth. ‘Let’s be straight with each other – officer to officer. You and I both know that you have no future here. I need first-class officers, not political pin-up girls. You’re in the Carabinieri, not Berlusconi’s cabinet.’ He lets out another pained sigh. ‘Listen to me. I’m going to give you some advice. This is a good point for you to put in a transfer request. I’ll give you some time off until we get you posted elsewhere and you can spend it at home with your new lover.’ He smiles patronisingly at her. ‘How does that offer sound?’

Valentina stares down at the big wooden desk. Caesario’s fat little fingers start drumming again, just centimetres from the cell phone he berated her for trying to turn off. She picks it up and turns it in her hands. ‘I think your offer sounds fine.’ She presses the touch screen on the phone and holds it up towards his face. Caesario’s voice rolls out from the phone: ‘ If the top brass weren’t under political pressure to have some skirts wearing senior rank, you’d be out doing traffic duty.’

Valentina hits pause and looks him in the eye. ‘I don’t think that’s the most damning part of the recording, sir, but I’m sure that even that bit is sufficient to end the career of a misogynistic bully like you.’ She turns the BlackBerry off and slips it inside her jacket.

Caesario sits back in shock.

He can’t believe what she’s done.

A man would never have done that. A man would have taken his rollicking and done the decent thing. He can’t believe she’s been so sneaky, so cowardly, so duplicitous.

Valentina’s voice is calm and deliberate. ‘ Officer to officer, Major, let me be straight with you. I am not about to walk away from my position here, or this case. So – unless you want a copy of this recording to be the centre point not only of your own disciplinary inquiry but also of news reports from one end of Italy to the other, from this moment onwards you’ll afford me your total trust and support and allow me to do my job.’

Caesario is still speechless.

‘I need an answer, Major.’

He nods.

Valentina stands. ‘And for the record, the phrase total trust includes me exercising my discretion as to whomever I wish to involve in this case.’

He nods again.

‘Thank you, Major. Your support and confidence in me is greatly appreciated.’ She allows herself a small smile, and makes sure he sees it before she turns and heads for the door.