City of Devils: A Novel (26 page)

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Authors: Diana Bretherick

BOOK: City of Devils: A Novel
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Lombroso turned and smiled wanly at James. ‘So, Murray, I see you too are here to witness my reputation crashing about my ears.’

‘Surely it has not come to that quite yet, Professor?’ James said, thinking that perhaps he was overstating the position a little – after all, he did have a penchant for drama.

Lombroso looked at him sadly. ‘Yesterday, I might have agreed with you.’ He sighed heavily. ‘But today . . . today is a different matter. Everything has changed.’

‘There has been another murder,’ Tullio said, ‘and I am afraid that this time the victim was known to you all, Murray.’

‘Ausano,’ murmured Lombroso, ‘and I killed him.’

Ausano! James could not take it in. He had only seen him two days ago and now he was dead.

‘You did not kill him, Professor,’ Tullio said, ‘but the murderer wants to lay the blame at your door, it seems.’

Lombroso shook his head. ‘I
am
to blame. If he had not worked for me then he would be alive now.’

‘We cannot be certain of that,’ Ottolenghi said. ‘It could just be coincidence.’

‘Good of you to say so, Salvatore, but I think that is stretching credulity somewhat,’ replied Lombroso.

‘I’m afraid that the professor is right,’ Tullio said, grimly. ‘He knew all three victims and a tribute note naming him was left with each corpse. He does seem to be the connection.’

‘A note again!’ Ottolenghi exclaimed.

‘I’m afraid so,’ Tullio said.

‘In the same hand?’ James asked.

Tullio nodded.

‘Was the body mutilated as with the other two?’

‘I am afraid the mutilation seems to be escalating,’ Tullio said.

‘What form did it take this time?’

Lombroso held up his hand. ‘Rather than you tell us, Tullio, perhaps we had better visit the scene for ourselves. Is the body still in situ?’

‘Yes, Professor. It is not far, though we will have to be quick if we are to view it before Machinetti has it removed.’

‘Indeed,’ Lombroso agreed. ‘Then we need to go now.’

They left immediately. Tullio was right. The scene of the murder was only five minutes from the museum and soon they were standing in a small square with an elegant church on one side and a café on the other.

Tullio pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered in front of the church. Lombroso followed in his wake and people started to whisper to each other, presumably remarking upon the presence of the great scientist and expert in crime.

Machinetti stood by the body, his lips pursed as he saw Lombroso approach.

‘What do you want? Your presence is hardly appropriate, under the circumstances,’ he declared. There was some muttering in the crowd.

‘I asked the professor to attend,’ Tullio said crisply.

‘Interesting that the body should be found here, don’t you think, Lombroso?’ Machinetti said with a sneer on his face. ‘After all, this is where you take your morning refreshment, is it not?’

Lombroso’s face reddened slightly but he did not reply though it looked to James as if it was a supreme effort of will for him not to speak.

‘Have you removed the note?’ Tullio asked.

Machinetti nodded. ‘Of course. I did not want certain persons to get their hands on it – which should come as no surprise to you.’

Tullio stared at him. ‘I would advise you to keep your opinions to yourself. If you wish to be useful you might get your men to clear this crowd so that we can observe the scene properly. Oh and return the note to give the professor here an opportunity to examine it.’

Machinetti scowled. ‘I will take this matter higher, you can be sure of that.’


I
have already done so,’ Tullio replied grandly. Machinetti looked at him, his mouth open in surprise. Tullio went on, ‘I have been assured that I may proceed with my enquiries and that you will assist. So, I would advise you to follow my instructions and clear the scene . . . and then stand away from us, if you don’t mind. We have work to do and you are obstructing it.’

Machinetti glowered at him. ‘Very well, Tullio, but you have not heard the last of this.’ He reluctantly followed Tullio’s instructions and, having handed over the note, stood watching them morosely.

‘Have you really taken over?’ James whispered.

‘Not exactly,’ Tullio replied quietly. ‘I was told that we should work together, but by the time Machinetti works that out we should have what we need.’

Lombroso went over to the body and began to examine it. James and Ottolenghi stood beside him, ready to assist if required. The weather was warm and James thought how incongruous it seemed to be shading one’s eyes from the sunshine whilst looking down on a corpse.

The sight was almost more than James could bear, notwithstanding his medical training. Tullio had been right about the escalation of the mutilation. There was no question but that the killer was becoming more and more violent. The skin had been almost completely removed from one half of Ausano’s face. It reminded James of a model that used to be in his father’s office which had shown a head with half of the skin removed to display the muscles, sinews, etc, that lay beneath. As he looked down at the body, James tried to remember what Ausano had looked like but found that he could not. All he could see were the veins, some red and some blue, standing out and glistening in the pale sunshine. Splinters of bone were mixed in with the sheen of the blood and a few flies buzzed around half-heartedly before landing in the eyes and lips – or what was left of them. James shook his head as if to dislodge them from his own features. As with Soldati, there was a small pool of dark red blood by the body.

‘The poor man was both skinned and scalped,’ Lombroso replied grimly.

‘Scalped?’

‘His hair and face have been removed on one side. The jaw and cheekbones are completely smashed, and the lips and the flesh of the cheeks has been carved away.’

There was a sombre silence as the horror of this sank in. James tried to put his feelings aside and be more objective. He had seen bodies before when he clerked for Dr Bell but none of them had incurred injuries like this. A man without half of his face was an obscenity but the rest of the mutilation was so barbaric as to be almost beyond belief. He shook his head slowly, trying to come to terms with the horror of what he saw. ‘This is surely the work of a lunatic’

Lombroso stood back from the body and frowned thoughtfully. ‘It depends what you mean by lunatic’

‘Tell me more, Professor,’ Tullio said. ‘In fact, perhaps you could do a report for me.’

Lombroso walked away, shaking his head violently. ‘No, no, no! You and Machinetti can deal with it. You do not need me.’

Ottolenghi and James looked at one another – so much for giving Lombroso an opportunity for reflection. It seemed that he was entrenched as ever.

Tullio, however, decided on another approach. He sidled up to Lombroso and spoke quietly. Machinetti craned his neck in an unsuccessful effort to hear.

‘Professor, I am afraid to say that if we leave it to certain persons, justice may be elusive. His investigatory techniques are rather . . .’ he paused, apparently searching for the most tactful description, ‘haphazard.’

‘Besides, would it not be rather a coup to solve the murders?’ James added.

‘Indeed!’ Tullio declared. ‘Your reputation would be enhanced, Professor, and it would be a chance to demonstrate the applicability of your theories.’

Ottolenghi nodded enthusiastically. ‘Indeed, Professor, it would enable you to demonstrate your brilliance and confound your critics in one fell swoop. Think of the reaction of your rivals – Lacassagne in Lyon, for example!’

Lombroso stroked his beard thoughtfully and Ottolenghi went on. ‘He would be furious – after all, he likes to think of himself as the only criminal anthropologist able to solve crimes.’

‘And naturally Professor Gemelli will have no option but to reinstate you,’ James added.

Lombroso grinned. ‘With a full and public apology, of course.’

‘Of course, Professor,’ Ottolenghi said.

Lombroso turned to the corpse again and peered at it, evidently pondering the pros and cons of the situation.

‘But if you do not think that you can do it, Professor, I would quite understand,’ Tullio said. James wondered if this somewhat blatant appeal to the professor’s vanity would achieve their aim.

There was a slight pause and then Lombroso turned and stared at Tullio. ‘Of course I can do it! My theories are beyond question.’ He threw his arms up as if conducting an orchestra. ‘Gentlemen, we will start directly! Murray, what should our next step be?’

James knew the answer but he was not sure if it was what the professor wanted to hear. Ottolenghi nodded to him discreetly so he decided to take a chance. ‘Examine the scene for evidence?’ he suggested.

Lombroso paused and looked at him in surprise. ‘I was going to suggest we considered motive and then applied it to my criminal type.’ He pondered the matter for a moment or two. ‘But perhaps you’re right, if we are to be truly scientific’

With that James, Ottolenghi and Tullio began to search the surrounding area, much to Machinetti’s apparent amusement. ‘What are you doing? Looking for coins left by the crowd?’ he mocked.

‘They are doing your job for you, Marshal,’ Lombroso said tersely. ‘Perhaps you should lend a hand.’

Machinetti frowned and stalked off into the café Al Bicerin.

James could hardly contain his excitement. For a second time he was able to use the skills he had learned from Dr Bell, only this time it was even better. He actually had an opportunity to demonstrate the method of deduction in front of the professor, and with his approval. It felt like a breakthrough. He walked the area as he had been taught, scanning the ground for any trace of matter that might have been left by the killer.

‘Have you found anything of interest?’ asked Lombroso, after a few moments.

‘There’s some cigar ash over here,’ James said, pointing at a minuscule mound of grey power by the steps.

‘And more blood in this doorway,’ added Ottolenghi.

‘Looks like the mutilation was carried out there, out of plain sight as before,’ James said, without thinking.

‘As before?’ Lombroso said.

There was an awkward pause before Tullio came to the rescue.

‘We examined the scene of Soldati’s murder,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘It seemed the right thing to do.’

Lombroso’s eyebrows rose slightly. ‘I see, and did you find anything significant.’

‘Just a cigar butt and some footprints, that’s all,’ James said.

‘My dear young man, there is no “just” about it. This is scientific policing and you, Ottolenghi, know how long I have advocated its use.’ Ottolenghi nodded meekly as Lombroso continued, almost like a man possessed. ‘If we add together photography, telegraphy and above all our knowledge of criminal man, then we can extinguish crime!’

James wondered exactly how Lombroso’s criminal type would help in this but he didn’t dare to interrupt the professor’s flow.

‘So, you found evidence of a cigar at both scenes. These things could lead us to the killer, if we can identify the make of cigar. I am sure I have read a monograph on the subject but I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the author. The footmarks might also be of interest. Do we still have the cigar butt? I would like to see it, if it can be arranged.’

Tullio shook his head. ‘I am afraid that won’t be possible, Professor.’

‘I thought you kept it,’ James said.

‘I tried to. It was disposed of by Machinetti.’

‘Typical!’ Lombroso said. ‘And the footmarks?’

‘Too smudged to tell us much, but there were definitely two sets,’ James said.

‘I see . . . well that’s something at any rate,’ Lombroso said. ‘Now, have we completed our search?’

‘Almost,’ James said. ‘I think I’ll take a sample of that ash, just in case.’

Lombroso nodded distractedly. ‘If you wish, Murray, though I am afraid there is little we can do with it. It is the butt we really need.’

James shrugged and scooped some of the ash into a piece of paper from Tullio’s notebook and put in his pocket. He thought that it could be more of a clue than Lombroso thought. All he needed to do was send it away to an expert and, as luck would have it, he knew someone at home in Scotland who might just fit the bill.

‘Now, are we ready?’ Lombroso asked. They all nodded. ‘Good, well since that has revealed little of interest perhaps we can follow my initial suggestion and consider other aspects. Let us leave the scene to Machinetti and discuss the matter in comfort.’

Moments later they were back at the museum and Lombroso was briskly issuing orders like a general at the start of a battle.

‘Murray, bring that blackboard over here. Ottolenghi – if you go to my study you will find a bundle of papers on the floor by the hat stand – would you bring it in? Oh and ask Sofia to bring us coffee and
grappa
– it will help us to think.’

They bustled about doing Lombroso’s bidding, relieved that he had finally agreed to help them. Eventually they were ready to begin. Lombroso sat in an armchair with the three of them gathered round him like students before a teacher.

He gestured towards the blackboard. ‘I thought it might help to see our thoughts on display, as it were, away from prying eyes.

‘So gentlemen,’ he continued, ‘what do we have so far?’

‘Three victims, all male.’

Lombroso nodded and threw a piece of chalk in James’s direction, which, not being very good at cricket, he promptly dropped.

‘Would you mind, Murray?’

Not at all,’ James said as he scooped the chalk off the floor.

‘How were the bodies found, Tullio?’ asked Lombroso.

‘All were mutilated: Soldati had his nose and ears removed, Mancini’s tongue was cut out and his jaw dislocated, teeth smashed and eyes removed. Ausano . . .’

Tullio paused as Sofia entered with the coffee and
grappa.

‘Go on, young man. We must speak plainly if we are to catch a killer,’ said Lombroso, impatiently. ‘Don’t mind Sofia.’

James looked over to her as she put the tray down on a side table. She arranged each cup and saucer slowly and precisely. She wasn’t usually so careful and it seemed to him that she was listening carefully to what was being said.

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