Whispering Bones (20 page)

“There were large amounts of blood found, both in his office and on the ground below the bell tower. It appears that your husband was attacked in his office and then either fell or was pushed from the bell tower. As I say, the quantity of blood would seem to indicate he could not possibly have survived.”

Dear God, what had Alberto been up to that could have led to all this? Serafina bowed her head, a knot of dread forming in her stomach. When she looked up again, she masked her expression with one she hoped conveyed an appropriate amount of grief. “Thank you,
Luogotenente
. If you have no further information, I think I would like to be alone now.”

Carelli got up. “Of course.”

She accompanied him to the door. Before he left, he turned to her. “Rest assured,
Signora
Rossi, we will utilize all of our resources to continue the investigation into your husband’s death and to locate the body.”

“Yes. Thank you,
Luogotenente
.”

After closing the door behind him, Serafina slumped against the heavy wood. Guilt accosted her at the sense of relief which had traveled through her on learning of Alberto’s death. But the fact remained that, with Alberto gone, she and the children would be safe. They could stay in their home. Alberto would never again be able to harm them.

* * * *

Upstairs in the bedroom she shared with her little brother Vittorio, six-year-old Julia heard the front door being shut downstairs and drifted up from sleep, a worried thought forming in her mind. Had Papa returned? She hoped with all her heart never to see him again after what he had done to Mamma. After listening and hearing nothing further, Julia shifted in bed and tried to go back to sleep.

The room felt so cold... She pulled the covers up around her, turning on her side, and that was when she saw it—the monster crouching at the foot of Vittorio’s bed.

Barefoot, low to the ground, it almost looked like a young girl but, instinctively, Julia knew it was not. The creature’s tattered dress was encrusted with filth, its legs and arms covered with open sores. Hair like a rat’s nest surrounded its rotting head. The monster jerked in her direction, its glassy black eyes following her as she sat up in bed, making her skin crawl and her hair stand up on end. She could smell the stench emanating from it from across the room.

She clasped her hands to her eyes in terror, hitched in her breath, and screamed.

A moment later, she heard her mother’s footfall on the stairs then Mamma ran into the room. Julia peeked through her fingers. The monster was no longer there.

Her scream had woken Vittorio and he began to cry.

“Julia, what’s wrong?”

Her mother reached her and Julia flung her arms around Mamma’s neck and burst into tears. Vittorio wailed even louder.

“There was a monster,” Julia cried. “Next to Vittorio’s bed.”

“
Shhh
. Julia, you had a nightmare,” her mother said, stroking her hair and hugging her. “It’s all right, it’s over now.”

“But I saw it... It was standing there.” She pointed to the foot of Vittorio’s bed. Vittorio howled even louder.

Her mother moved to gather Vittorio into her arms and returned to Julia’s side. She lit the lantern on the dresser. “You just had a bad dream. There’s nothing here, see?”

“But I saw it,” Julia insisted, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Her mother brushed her tears away. “There, now. Do you want me to say with you for a while? We can leave the lantern lit so you won’t be frightened, all right?”

Julia nodded. Still snuffling, she lay back down in bed.

Her mother calmed Vittorio down and returned him to his bed, then dragged a chair from the corner of the room over and sat. “I’ll stay right here. Close your eyes now, and try to go back to sleep, both of you.”

* * * *

Just before midnight, her children asleep once more, Serafina silently made her way out of the bedroom and back downstairs. Julia had never been prone to nightmares. That she’d suffered one tonight, coinciding with the news of Alberto’s death, made her uneasy. It felt like a bad omen.

Before she reached the bottom of the stairs, a loud knock sounded at the front door. What now? Who could be at the door at this hour? Perhaps the police had returned with more news about Alberto.

She went to the drawing room window and peeked out, surprised to see Rosaria’s husband, Massimo, standing on her doorstep. And, judging from the expression on the man’s face, more bad news was about to arrive. She let the curtain drop back and walked quickly to the door to open it.

“Massimo. Why are you here at such a late hour?”

His face appeared grim. “We need to speak,” he said. “May I come in?”

She ushered him inside and closed the door behind them. Serafina studied his face. He looked terrible, his eyes red and glassy, as if he’d been crying, drinking, or both.

“Come inside and sit down.”

“No. Thank you. I will not be staying.” He appeared to consider his words before he spoke again. “I hesitated to come here, Serafina, but Rosaria...she valued your friendship. I felt you should know.”

“Know what?”

“Rosaria is dead.”

“Oh, no...” She took a step back.

He paused before continuing, but his eyes remained fixed on hers. “And I am convinced it was your husband who killed her.”

Cold dread washed through her at his words. “What...what do you mean? How—”

“He killed her, Serafina.” Bitter anger flashed across his features. “I know he is your husband, but I swear to you, if that bastard—” He choked on his words. “If I find out he is not dead, if he turns up alive, I will kill him myself.”

Serafina stood in shocked silence. Her childhood friend was dead, and after witnessing firsthand her husband’s violent behavior, she felt afraid that what Massimo had just told her was the truth. “Tell me what you know,” she said, her voice trembling.

“When I heard what had happened at the asylum, and that your husband had gone missing, I rushed to the police to find out where the patients had been taken. When I arrived at the facility, Rosaria was not among them. Finally, I located one of the hospital employees. He told me...he told me something was going on at the hospital. Some of the patients had died, he said, after being examined by your husband. He said that your husband disposed of the bodies of those patients himself, late at night in the crematorium. On the night before your husband disappeared, he had Rosaria brought to the surgical ward. The man I spoke to refused to tell me anything more, but I returned to the police and was told Rosaria was the only patient not accounted for. I convinced the authorities to return to the island with me, to try to locate her. We discovered some bones in the ashes inside the incinerator. At first, the police thought they might be your husband’s, but then they found this inside the ashes.”

He pulled something out of his pocket and held it up to show her—a small gold wedding band.

“The police questioned the hospital employees again, and they admitted their suspicion that your husband had killed some of the patients, including Rosaria.”

Serafina listened to all of this in stunned silence.
What did you do, Alberto?

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Massimo...” She could not bring herself to meet his eyes, nor could she think of anything else to say in light of his shocking revelation.

When he spoke to her next, his voice softened. “I place no blame on you for your husband’s actions, Serafina, and I came because I believe Rosaria would have wanted me to. But I meant what I said earlier. If your husband is found alive, I
will
kill him, and you should know that, too.”

Serafina could not breathe. She could not find her voice to respond.

Massimo let himself out, closing the door behind him.

“Let
me
play with it now... It’s
my
turn,” little Vittorio cried.

Julia held the rag doll just out of reach of her brother’s outstretched hand. “It’s a doll. Boys aren’t supposed to play with dolls,” she teased. Her brother’s eyes filled with tears, and she relented. “All right.” She handed her favorite toy over to him. “But don’t ruin it,” she warned.

Vittorio smiled up at her. “I won’t.”

Julia turned away to fetch another toy when she heard a sharp intake of breath from behind her. Something wet hit the back of her head. “Vittorio! What—”

As she whirled around to chastise her brother for spitting, something red and wet splashed across her face and she almost cried out in surprise. But then she saw Vittorio. He was up in the air, being tossed around like the rag doll she’d just given him, by...

She gasped in fear.
The monster
. The same creature she had seen two nights ago had returned. Its back was turned to her, but she instantly recognized the tattered, filthy dress. In the light of day she could clearly see its rotting flesh, riddled with sores, and the straw-like hair standing out in all directions.

Vittorio was off the ground, his arms and legs thrashing wildly. The creature had him by the throat. Julia could see the ugly gash on Vittorio’s neck, but only in the periphery of her vision, because at that instant, the monster turned and Julia saw its face. Most of it looked as if it had been eaten away. Bone glistened through the remaining grey-black flesh. When the thing trained its glazed eyes on her, Julia froze. She watched as it opened its rotting mouth wide before turning back to her brother. She heard the sound of its low growl, smelled its sickly sweet scent as it bent over Vittorio.

Shock set in, paralyzing her. Her eyes opened wide, wider as she stared at the monster feasting on the blood gushing from Vittorio’s neck. A tiny gurgling sound escaped Vittorio before his body went limp in the creature’s hands.

Julia tried to drag her eyes away from the shocking spectacle. She tried to scream, wanted to, but could not. She could only watch in horror as the creature lapped up the blood gushing from her brother, could only listen to the disgusting smacking sounds coming from the monster as it hunched over Vittorio’s motionless form. When the sounds ceased, the creature dragged her brother’s limp, pale body to the playroom’s open window. In one swift movement, the monster lifted her brother’s body and tossed him outside. A second later she heard a thud as he hit the pavement three floors below.

The creature turned its ghastly eyes on Julia again. She shuddered violently, but shock had rendered her mute and she made not a sound. It would come for her now, her mind screamed at her. She would be its next victim. Instead, a second later, she registered the fact that the creature was gone. It had disappeared into thin air.

Julia remained perfectly still on the floor, covered in her brother’s blood. She did not move, even when she heard her mother’s screams coming from outside. She was still sitting that way when, sometime later, they found her.

* * * *

On a drizzly and grey November morning, Serafina buried her son. Damp fog shrouded the ancient cemetery on San Michele Island as she and Julia followed the workers bearing the tiny casket through a maze of narrow passageways and marble headstones. They stood silently next to the open tomb in the misty rain. Only the two of them were present for Vittorio’s burial. Rumors about her husband’s murderous activities had spread like wildfire over the past several days and no one had seen fit to attend the service for the son of a murderer. She looked down at Julia who, pale and unmoving, clutched her hand tightly. Together, they watched as Vittorio’s coffin was placed into the tomb and the stone lid sealed shut.

What her poor daughter must have gone through watching her brother die, she could not imagine. Serafina drew her daughter close and mourned her dead son.

In the aftershock of finding Vittorio dead on the street outside their house, she had not reached Julia for some time. Her daughter, when she had found her, appeared to be in shock, unable to speak. It was not until the following day that Julia had begun to shriek hysterically, screaming that the monster had returned to kill her brother.

Still numb over Vittorio’s death, Serafina did not know what to believe. Julia was not in the habit of lying. Her daughter had seen something that, to her young eyes, had appeared to be a monster. Had someone entered the house, seeking retribution for her husband’s deeds? The family of one his patients who had ended up dead, perhaps? Serafina did not believe that to be the case. For one thing, no one had been able to explain the absence of blood in her son’s body to her, had they? She shuddered, remembering the unnaturally white flesh of Vittorio’s tiny, lifeless body lying on the pavement outside their home, and the bloodless gashes on his neck. Not a drop of blood had been found on or near him, even though Julia and the playroom had been covered in it.

And what of Alberto? Although she no longer cared what fate he’d met, the fact his body had not been found disturbed her.

Serafina did not consider herself a superstitious person, but the unsettling thought that her dead husband had somehow reached out from beyond the grave to harm them kept haunting her. She could not seem to shake the feeling.

Julia shivered next to her in the dampness again, and Serafina pulled her closer as the two of them said their final goodbyes to Vittorio.

Early that morning, she had arrived at a decision. Within the next few days they would begin making arrangements. The house would be sold. She intended to leave the country with her daughter. They were, she believed, no longer safe here. Losing Vittorio had nearly finished her, but there was Julia to think about. She had no intention of allowing any harm to come to her daughter.

* * * *

Venice

May, 1928

Lieutenant Carelli stared at the reports on his desk in dismay. The unsolved case of Dr. Rossi had weighed heavily on him for the past six months, and the latest accounts he’d received regarding Poveglia had done nothing to put his mind at ease.

After Rossi’s disappearance, he had interviewed the night staff himself, as well as the patients who were coherent enough to speak to him. Several of the patients claimed to have seen the doctor fall from the bell tower on the night he went missing. It corroborated the blood he had seen on the ground in front of the hospital, and that found on the stairs and in the open tower. Some of the patients had also claimed to have heard screams and, to his amazement, had told him they had seen Rossi’s body being borne away—by rotting corpses.