City of Devils: A Novel (28 page)

Tullio complied, lifting the sheet that covered Pietro Mancini. Lombroso was quicker with the second body, as if he knew now exactly what he was looking for. It was the same with the remains of Ausano. Once the sheet was lifted he made a perfunctory examination and then paused before looking at it more carefully. When he had found what he sought he spoke to Tullio.

‘Has Dr Gallini said anything of note to Machinetti about the bodies?’

‘Not as far as I am aware,’ Tullio replied. ‘He merely informed him of the cause of death and approximate times. There was nothing else. His examination was somewhat perfunctory, the cause of death being obvious, according to him. Why, Professor? Have you found something?’

Lombroso stroked his beard. ‘Perhaps. I will give it some thought and we can discuss it later.’

With that he left abruptly, without revealing his findings. It seemed to James that this was not so much because of a need for the professor to collect his thoughts but more a case of creating a dramatic tension. Lombroso’s theatricality was all very well in a lecture, he thought, but here it just seemed self-indulgent.

Dutifully Tullio began to replace the sheets over the corpses. James turned before leaving the room, looking at the forms lying there on the cold mortuary slabs beneath their final covering before burial. He shivered, not from the cold air but from the thought of death and its randomness. Even if the killer, as seemed likely from the evidence, had chosen these victims, was it merely because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did they just attract his attention because they laughed a little too loudly or brushed past him in the street, or were they simply associated with the wrong person – in this case, Lombroso? He shivered again, this time through fear. Then he steeled himself. The priority was to find this murderer and everything must be focused on that, for until he – or she – was in custody, no one in Turin was safe.

That evening they all reassembled in the same room as before. There was an atmosphere of expectancy. Lombroso looked excited. His cheeks were slightly pink and he moved around the room touching things, picking them up and putting them down again in a slightly distracted manner. Every now and again he would give what looked like a little jump as if he could hardly contain himself. Eventually, once he was satisfied that there was the correct amount of tension for the revelation of his findings, he began.

‘Gentlemen, we were searching for connections between the victims other than the bloody notes and their association with me. I can tell you now that I believe that I have found such a connection.’

Lombroso paused and looked around the room as if he was addressing a large audience rather than just the three of them. The suspense had built to such a crescendo that it was almost audible. He threw his arms out as if declaiming.

‘The bodies are marked,’ he boomed.

There was an awkward silence as they all tried to work out if that was all that was to be said. James noticed that Tullio did not seem as surprised as the rest of them. He had a slight smile on his face as if he knew more than he was saying. Eventually Ottolenghi intervened.

‘In what way were they marked, Professor?’

Lombroso took a deep breath in order to make his announcement.

‘
Il segno del diavolo
!’ Tullio exclaimed.

Lombroso looked rather irritated at the theft of his limelight. ‘How did you know that?’ he asked.

Tullio shrugged. ‘I saw it when you were examining the last body.’

Lombroso narrowed his eyes as if trying to decide how to react. He chose to be generous. ‘Young man, you have guessed correctly. The inverted cross, the sign of the Devil, was carved into the left shoulder of each victim.’

‘Isn’t the inverted cross also a sign of St Peter? What could it mean?’ James asked. He knew that he had seen such a cross somewhere recently but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where.

‘At the moment I confess that I do not know the answer to your question,’ replied Lombroso. ‘However, I doubt that its use by the killer indicates an allegiance to Christianity.’ He turned to Tullio. ‘Do you know any active covens or sects, Devil worshippers and so on, who use the symbol?’

‘It is hard to believe that such things could go on here,’ James commented. ‘Turin seems to be such a civilised and modern city.’

Ottolenghi grinned. ‘James, you’ve met Father Vincenzo, and he’s the respectable side. He just
believes
in the Devil rather than worshipping him. This city has been known for its attachment to Satanism for centuries.’

Lombroso nodded. ‘For all our knowledge and science we still seem to possess an unhealthy interest in the supernatural in general and the black arts in particular. Such nonsense!’

Tullio nodded. ‘Professor, I am afraid that the answer to your question is that most such organisations, and there are plenty that are currently active, have used that symbol at one time or another.’

‘But what does it signify?’ James asked.

Lombroso and Tullio both paused and then, seemingly in perfect unison, gave their answer.

‘Evil.’

‘I thought that you said it was nonsense, Professor,’ James protested, somewhat confused.

‘It is exactly that, but those who use this symbol believe in the supremacy of the Devil. They follow their master in everything and that includes a propensity to murder.’

‘So the murderer is likely to be some kind of Satanist, then?’ James asked.

‘Looks like it,’ Tullio said.

Lombroso did not agree. ‘Not necessarily. We should not be too hasty in our conclusion.’

‘It is worth following up though, Professor?’ Tullio said.

‘Indeed it is,’ agreed Lombroso. ‘But I am not sure you will find out much without the advice of an expert and it is not without risk. These people are deranged and almost certainly dangerous.’

‘Then what do you suggest?’

‘Leave it to me. I think I know someone who can help us,’ Lombroso said.

Tullio gave a short bow. ‘Of course. I will return to headquarters and see if I can find out anything from my colleagues. I’ll see myself out.’ As he left, James wished that he had waited for Sofia to escort him to the front door. Even a glimpse would be something.

Lombroso looked at them, thoughtfully. ‘I think we have achieved much today. But now, is there anything else we should consider?’ He pulled out a carafe of ruby red port from a cupboard and proceeded to pour three generous glasses.

There was a silence as they considered the events of the last week. So much had happened and at such a speed that it was something of a relief to just sit and think about it quietly. It was Ottolenghi who eventually broke the silence.

‘We have not discussed the mutilations,’ he said. ‘They must mean something.’

Lombroso nodded thoughtfully. ‘A message of some sort? Yes, I think that is more than likely, Ottolenghi.’

‘But what could they signify?’ James asked. ‘The body parts are all different.’

‘Perhaps that is the point,’ replied Lombroso. ‘It could be part of the message. So what do we have?’

‘Nose and ears for Soldati, the tongue, teeth and eyes for Mancini and the half face and hair for Ausano,’ Ottolenghi said slowly, looking down at the floor as if the body parts were laid out before him.

‘Did they use them to commit their crimes?’ James asked. ‘Wasn’t Mancini an informer?’

Ottolenghi looked excited. ‘Of course! What do you think, Professor?’

Lombroso shook his head. ‘No, I don’t see how that fits. Soldati was a thief. He didn’t use his nose and ears for that. And Ausano was a pickpocket. I do not see how his face and hair came into that.’

‘Surely the body parts must mean something though?’ Ottolenghi said. ‘Otherwise why perform the mutilations in the first place. You said yourself that they were done with care.’

Lombroso frowned. ‘Did I? I don’t remember saying so, although, having seen the bodies, I do agree. There must be a reason,’ he murmured, frowning with concentration.

James was thinking through the list of mutilations. They were clearly done in a very deliberate way and listening to them recited by Ottolenghi had jogged something in his memory. Suddenly it came to him.

‘Professor, do you have a copy of your book,
Criminal Man,
to hand?’

Lombroso looked at him curiously. ‘Ottolenghi, could you go into my study and fetch the first edition of
L’Uomo Delinquente
? You know where it is.’

Ottolenghi nodded and left to do Lombroso’s bidding. The professor strode around the room, excitedly, muttering to himself under his breath. After what seemed an age, Ottolenghi returned with the book.

Lombroso handed it to James who started to flick through it. He found a particular passage, smiled to himself with satisfaction and handed it back to Lombroso, indicating the place with his finger. Lombroso almost snatched it from him and began to study it, muttering all the while.

‘Yes, yes, I see now . . . that’s right . . . of course, it could be nothing else . . . naturally, naturally . . . ears, nose . . . yes . . . correct . . . and now . . . the tongue . . . but of course! I should have seen it straight away . . . and the last piece in the puzzle . . . aaahhh!’ He sighed and flopped down onto an armchair, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Then he looked up. ‘Well done, Murray!’

‘What is it?’ Ottolenghi asked.

‘Gentlemen, it is always imperative to know one’s enemy.’ Lombroso looked at their faces intently, his eyes bright and sharp, like a wild creature seeking its quarry. ‘But I believe that through Dr Murray’s careful scientific deduction I now know something of the motivation of our perpetrator.’

They stared at him in anticipation. The large clock in the corner of the room ticked loudly. The tension was almost unbearable.

Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door and Sofia entered, bearing a small silver salver with a card on it. She went over to Lombroso who scowled at her for stealing his moment of glory. Sofia raised her eyebrows slightly and pushed the salver under his nose. He tutted and took the card, looking imperiously down his glasses at it. Sofia stepped back until she was standing next to James. She brushed his hand slightly and gave him a slow smile. He had to force himself not to acknowledge her. Ottolenghi noticed and shook his head slightly in disapproval.

‘Really, this is too much!’ shouted Lombroso. James looked round at him in alarm, thinking for a second that he had seen Sofia touch him.

‘DeClichy, that wretched man! Sofia, tell him I am too busy for fools and charlatans today!’

Sofia hesitated.

‘What is it?’ Lombroso said irritably.

‘He was most agitated . . .’ she said.

‘Agitated! I am not surprised. His intellectual folly is probably weighing him down! I do not care. Tell him to leave me alone!’

Sofia nodded and left, giving James a sideways glance as she did so. Lombroso turned and glared at them. ‘DeClichy, of all people. I can’t think what he wants but whatever it is, it can wait. Now where was I?’

It was obvious that there was nothing he disliked more than having a dramatic moment of his engineering broken so comprehensively.

‘You were about to tell us of the murderer’s motivation,’ James said, helpfully.

‘Ah yes. Thank you, Murray,’ Lombroso said. ‘But first, why don’t you tell us about your deduction?’

James nodded. ‘It is quite simple really. If we examine the passage here –’ he indicated the page to Ottolenghi ‘– we can see that there is a list of a criminal type and physical characteristics.’

‘Go on, Murray. Read it out. I want to hear my genius again,’ Lombroso said as he leant back in his chair again, this time closing his eyes.

‘ “The abnormal characteristics that predominate among born criminals, especially murderers, are the absence of an ethnic type, a large jaw, a scanty beard, enlarged sinus cavities, a shifty gaze, thick hair and jug ears. Secondarily we find, in descending order, asymmetry, femininity, sloping foreheads and prognathism.”’

Ottolenghi’s eyes widened as he realised the connection. ‘Of course! They reflect the mutilations.’

Lombroso took a sip from his drink and leant back in his armchair. ‘The killer has taken the words I myself have written and applied them quite literally to his own work,’ he said slowly. ‘There, do you see? That’s the key to all of this. It is clear to me that the killer’s main motive is to demonstrate his allegiance to me by imitation.’

‘And he is doing that by mimicking the characteristics of the born criminal,’ James said.

‘Correct, Murray. He is showing his appreciation of my work. In his own, admittedly somewhat twisted way, he is telling me that he supports my theories.’

James looked again at the passage the professor had marked and frowned. There was a mention of jug ears – and certainly Soldati had those, until that is, they were removed. But there was no mention of tongues, or a flat nose like Soldati’s. Lombroso sighed impatiently. ‘Oh, I know he is has not been exact in his “tribute” but he is a killer, almost certainly insane, so of course one expects a little variation. But nonetheless it is clear to me that he is an enthusiast. In that at least he has shown some sense.’

James looked at the book again. ‘Well, let’s see. You write of a jaw and the killer smashed Mancini’s teeth. You speak of a shifty gaze, which would account for the removal of the eyes. Then there is asymmetry – so that would be why half of poor Ausano’s face was removed.’

‘
Eccellente
!’ Lombroso boomed. ‘There we have it!’

James paused and took a deep breath. He did not want to contradict Lombroso, particularly as it had been his own ideas that had started this train of thought, but he felt that he had to inject a note of caution into the proceedings. ‘I agree with you, Professor. I think that he is mimicking you in a way. But this passage does not mention a tongue or a nose.’

Lombroso smiled and looked pityingly at him as if he was mentally deficient. ‘You should learn to think laterally, Murray. I wonder that Dr Bell did not tell you so. If you do not, then I see your future here as being limited. Diagnosis, whether it be medical or criminogenic, is a matter of logical deduction.’