murder in the tremiti isles

Chapter 3 - The scoop-1

Chapter 3 - The scoop«It’s Rosario».

«What happened? What do you want at this hour cufiu?1» answered his colleague who had been forced to go to work wearing long trousers, shoes and socks and who at that moment was looking forward to an ice cold beer with other colleagues, the only break of the evening from the heat that had oppressed the city all day long.

«Did you already close?».

«Almost, why?».

«Who’s in charge tonight?».

«The editor in chief is here. Can you tell me what the hell’s happened?»

«Sorry, you’re right... I’m in the middle of a murder…».

«Come on, don’t goof around with me. I just turned on all the stations and they didn’t say anything and the radio seems dead. Everything’s quiet» his colleague interrupted him thinking of one of Saru’s frequent jokes.

«It’s the truth, f**k! I’m right in the middle of it!».

«You talking bullshit? Did you get too much sun today?» he continued as if to downplay it because he was starting to think that his evening with his mates could go belly up.

«I swear it. I’m here with a dead woman at my feet. She’s been killed…».

«Did you call the police?» his colleague asked him not knowing what else he could say so absorbed by the anxiety of the speaker.

«No way, no one’s come here, I’m all alone but anyway listen, call the boss and tell him to leave some space because here we have some big news: a woman from Bologna has been killed…».

«Tell me you’re not joking» demanded again his colleague.

«Shit, how do I have to say it? Leave some space, we have to open the paper with it and considering what time it is I think our opponents will get a hell of a shock tomorrow. As long as we don’t do what we did with the Villa Spada rape».

Despite of the confusion of the moment, Saru’s thoughts inexplicably started racing opening one of the many drawers of his mind in which he used to file away memories, images, emotions and words which he then took out in case of necessity. Some years before, a 16-year-old girl was raped in one of the city parks while she was making out with her boyfriend and around them people were spending a few hours in the afternoon relaxing under the shade of the trees away from the sudden heat that had gripped the city. At the time Saru was on vacation in the Eolian Islands and despite this fact, he and his colleague had been able to receive confirmation of the event. But they were then stopped by the boss who for some strange reason didn’t want to publish the news which for two weeks kept the public’s attention glued to the matter, and not only locally, as the news had a national resonance.

«What happened? Tell me about it».

«I’ll explain briefly…» tried to explain Saru who could not finish his sentence as he was interrupted by a loud threatening voice.

«Stop where you are! Leave the girl and step back» a carabiniere shouted pointing his gun and a powerful torch full onto him, almost blinding him.

«What’s going on?» his colleague kept shouting on the other end of the phone without getting an answer.

«Keep calm with that gun» Saru shouted putting his hands in the air.

«Step back!» repeated the military man.

«I understand, I’m doing it, but keep calm. Watch out with that gun, I’m a reporter, just take it easy. I don’t have anything to do with the story. I was just trying to help the lady, calm down». Fearing an over-reaction, Saru moved slowly and in the meanwhile his colleague was still listening to what was happening through the phone which had luckily been left on.

«What did you do to the woman, you bastard?» careless of his words another military man who had just arrived on the spot exclaimed sharply, out of breath because of the steep road and the run.

«Me, nothing, are you kidding? I heard the screaming and I came to see what had happened. That’s it». At that moment he could feel the regret rising in his throat for not having minded his own business and he tried to shield himself from the two torches with his arm, trying at the same time to work out whether his girlfriend was at least coming to get him out of that mess he had got himself into. He kept wondering why no nosey on-lookers had reached the place yet as normally they always arrive before the police. And it also didn’t seem normal to him that none of the restaurant guests had been curious enough to come as they could have helped him out giving evidence for him.

«Let him go! What are you doing, are you going crazy?» her voice came through the dark like a stroke of luck that reminded him of the voice of the lady on the TomTom helping him to find his way after he’d been lost for half an hour in the darkest woods.

«Finally! It took you long enough to arrive. Did you lose your way?» Saru called with the relief of someone who has been saved at the 11th hour.

«Who are you?» asked the carabiniere.

«I’m the girlfriend of the man you are pointing that gun at. Don’t make any hasty moves, he doesn’t have anything to do with it, he was with me until a few moments ago and all the people at the restaurant can testify to that» the girl tried to explain in an angelic tone, panting after the steep road she had had to walk up to get there.

Saru’s colleague meanwhile was still listening and it seemed like it was one of those radio dramas with the voices and sound-effects that could convey invisible sensations. Standing next to him, in front of the speakerphone, there was now the editor in chief who disregarding the tragic aspects was already excited about the scoop they would be able to print.

«The lady’s right, I don’t know that man, but for sure he was at the restaurant when we heard the scream. I wouldn’t know if she was still alive when he got here» chipped in a guy who had been at a neighboring table. He looked like a teacher, one of those fussy teachers that only by the grace of God can manage to keep a woman by their side for their entire life even though they’re so boring and annoying. The man talked, taking no notice of the fact that no one had asked him anything, especially not those inappropriate clarifications which were about to drive Saru crazy if only the look on Elisa’s face hadn’t restrained him, an expression of horror about the inappropriateness of those words which could have made the situation even more complicated.

«Why are you covered in blood if you have nothing to do with it?» the man in uniform asked Saru to a murmur from the growing crowd of onlookers who were getting more and more curious as they followed the scene.

«Well, you’d better ask him. I hope he has an explanation» the man that had spoken up before said in his boring pedantic way, staring at him inquiringly.

«Why are you covered in blood?» asked the carabiniere repeating the unspoken question that was already floating amongst the spectators who, despite the drama, gave the impression of enjoying what was happening in front of them.

With a determined expression that matched his tone of voice, Saru retorted: «I’ll tell you if you stop pointing that damn gun at me».

«Ok, but keep your hands visible».

«But I don’t have anything».

«Show me your right hand».

«It’s my cellphone» he opened the palm of his hand revealing the small phone he used for communicating but trying not to show the shining screen for fear that he would realize it was turned on. «I was trying to call someone for help when you arrived».

«Move away from the body and go over to the side. Don’t do anything stupid and stay here. You can’t leave because we have to question you and take your statement».

«I swear I don’t know anything. I only know that her name was Lucia Benni. I think she was 40 and she comes from Bologna. A Bolognese tourist on vacation at the Tremiti». No one had asked him to talk and he knew very well that in these cases the best thing to do was to shut up, but at that moment it was the only way that came to his mind to let his colleague know what had happened. And as he said it, he was very careful to pronounce the name clearly and give him the time to take notes so it would be easy to do some research in the archive or on the Net to find out who the dead woman was and write the article which, together, they would check before sending it to print.

«How come you know that?» chorused the marshal and his girlfriend each for different reasons.

«Lady, excuse me. I am the only one that asks the questions» said the carabiniere to Elisa whose expression betrayed a sense of rage mixed with jealousy towards Saru who was, in her unquestionable opinion, badly inclined to become over-familiar with unknown females.

«Why do you have blood on you?»

«I stumbled while I was running in the darkness and I landed on her. It looks like a slaughterhouse here, there’s blood everywhere and I vomited».

«How do you know her?» the girlfriend asked butting in again getting more and more irritated.

«She was on the boat with us yesterday, that pretty woman sunbathing on the prow and we also had a chat seeing we had to spend the whole day together» Saru continued loudly, full of particulars, not to justify himself but to give his colleague more details.

«How do you know her surname?» his girlfriend asking again ignoring the marshal’s order, utterly consumed with jealousy and determined to get her suspicions confirmed rather than listening to the explanations of that man who to her eyes seemed so attractive and likeable but also very roguish.

«Madam, I’ve already said that I am the one that asks the questions here» the military man repeated already intending to ask his colleague to get her to step back behind the red and white tape being used by the other carabiniere to isolate the area and keep away all the onlookers who were gathering to keep the crime scene intact.

«We talked to her all day long and we had lunch together and I think it’s quite normal that she said her name then you went for a swim and she told me that she was from Bologna».

«What a coincidence, you talked about it just when I was swimming» the woman insisted.

«Do you really think it’s a good idea to make a jealous scene right now when I have a dead body at my feet with a guy in front of me threatening to shoot me at any moment?».

«Where do you come from?» asked the marshal, head of the San Domino carabinieri station.

«I’m from Lecce but I live in Bologna».

«I realized you weren’t a foreigner» he said in Saru’s own dialect, softening his tone of voice with a relaxed gesture which helped for a while to ease the anxiety of the moment.

«And where are you from?» asked the reporter encouraged by that less aggressive attitude keen to have more contact clutching that little straw of linguistic communion that had been offered. In other circumstances he would have kept up a kind of diffidence towards the stranger, but this time he didn’t because he had the feeling he had nothing to fear.

«I’m from Poggiardo2» the marshal said in dialect.

«Great, man. I’m happy to have met you. But now we have a big problem to solve and I need some time to clean off this blood. My clothes are stuck to my skin, I can’t get this nauseating sweet smell out of my nostrils and I’ve also got to get the news to my paper».

Saru immediately regretted his last words as he had the impression he had said too much because of the feeling of familiarity, something that sometimes happened to him and that made him mad with himself.

«Compatriot. With all respect, I cannot let you go. Sorry but you’re the only suspect at the moment. I’m sorry but I have to save my ass, if they know I’ve let you go they’ll make me shovel s**t until I retire and I still don’t know when that will be. I’m sure you understand that I don’t want this. I also have to protect my career if I don’t want to end up with a miserable pension».

«Sorry, you’re right. What’s your name?» Saru, having drawn a breath, thought of taking another tack.