City of Devils: A Novel (42 page)

When he arrived at the museum the following morning he fully intended to tell Lombroso and Ottolenghi of his thoughts about the death of DeClichy. However, they were far too preoccupied with putting Lombroso’s plan into action to be interested in anything James had to say. A meeting with Tullio at Al Bicerin had been arranged in order to persuade him to round up suspects with the correct physical characteristics. It was obvious that Lombroso was excited at the prospect of seeing his theories put into practice – and his enthusiasm was infectious. Having listened to him outline his views again, James was keen to see how it worked out, despite his doubts as to whether it would catch the killer. When they walked into the cafe, Borelli was there, sipping his
bicerin
and peering through his glasses at the morning newspaper. James smiled inwardly. Even though everyone was critical about the standard of Baldovino’s journalism they seemed only too keen to read his work. Borelli looked up and grinned amiably.

‘Good morning, gentlemen. I see the Pilgrim has been in touch with Baldovino again.’

Lombroso looked surprised. ‘Really? So soon? What has he to say?’

‘Not much. He is gloating over the death of DeClichy. He calls him “
ciarlatano
– the charlatan”.’

‘That is interesting. I see the Pilgrim has some criminological knowledge, enough to express an opinion, at any rate,’ Lombroso said.

‘And Baldovino, does he say anything?’ Ottolenghi asked.

Borelli handed the newspaper over to him. ‘See for yourself. I’ve read enough.’ He looked to Lombroso. ‘I hear you were turned away from the mortuary yesterday.’

Lombroso pursed his lips. ‘Indeed, I was. How fast news travels.’

Borelli nodded. ‘Especially when the source is Machinetti.’

‘The professor has a plan that will shut Machinetti up once and for all,’ announced Ottolenghi, gleefully.

Lombroso inclined his head with what was undoubtedly false modesty. Borelli raised his eyebrows. ‘And what might that be, Cesare?’

At that moment Tullio entered and joined them at their already overcrowded table. Once drinks were ordered Lombroso outlined the details of his plan to Tullio who listened politely, without comment. James could sense, however, from the look in his eyes, that he held similar doubts to his own. Once Lombroso had finished Tullio sat and sipped at his drink thoughtfully.

‘It would not be an easy task,’ he said finally.

‘Indeed, but anything worth the effort seldom is,’ Borelli said. ‘Personally, I think it is a stroke of genius. The professor here is famous throughout Europe for his theories. Do you doubt them, Tullio? And if so, on what basis?’

Tullio looked a little worried then. Clearly he did not wish to upset Lombroso, given his influence – the professor might have had enemies, but he also had strong support from some very influential quarters in the city so Tullio was obviously in a difficult position. To put Lombroso’s ideas into action would alienate Machinetti still further, assuming he could overcome his almost inevitable opposition. But not to . . . Finally he spoke.

‘I will do all I can to make this happen, Professor, but—’

Lombroso slapped him on the back with some force. ‘That’s a good fellow. I knew we could rely on you!’

‘But if it does not meet with any success I feel it is my duty to warn you that there could be quite severe consequences. It will be difficult to undertake such an exercise without attracting attention. Baldovino will no doubt wish to cover this in detail. If we fail, then all of our careers may be in jeopardy.’

‘My dear fellow,’ Lombroso cried, ‘how can we fail? My theories are correct. It is all about the criminal type. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind and if we act on them we will catch our killer. After all, how many murderers have been incarcerated as a result of my work?’

He looked round for an answer. Borelli provided it. ‘Countless numbers, no doubt, Cesare. Many men are languishing in jail as a result of your efforts.’

‘Exactly! Well put, Adolfo. So you see, Tullio, there is really nothing to worry about.’

Tullio smiled thinly. James could see that he was not quite so sure and he shared that uncertainty. In his opinion they would have been better served by looking more deeply at the murder of DeClichy. Something with that whole affair did not, to his mind, sit right, though he could not say exactly what it was.

James was not sure quite how he managed it but Tullio persuaded Machinetti to follow Lombroso’s instructions and arrest all known criminals with the specified physical characteristics and a connection, however tenuous, to Lombroso. In the end there were not many on the list that Lombroso thoughtfully provided, once those with an alibi had been excluded.

Tullio hinted later that he detected a glint of satisfaction in Machinetti’s eye when he was asked to cooperate, as if he knew that it would only serve to tarnish Lombroso’s reputation further and give his enemies even more ammunition than they already possessed. Machinetti insisted on bringing in Baldovino as an observer so that, as he claimed, the people could see that something was being done.

James, Lombroso and Ottolenghi were all present at the carabinieri headquarters when the suspects were brought in, and a motley crew they were. Unfortunately, the officers had been given the wrong instructions, no doubt also by courtesy of Machinetti’s intervention, and had been trawling through the streets of Turin for days, arresting anyone who fitted the description issued, regardless of their connection or otherwise with Lombroso.

As a result the place was in chaos and Baldovino sat in a corner grinning slyly at the confusion. If Lombroso was worried, he did not show it, but one could not say the same of Tullio, whose face was a study in misery as the noise grew louder with each protesting criminal escorted through the doors. He tried his best to create some order out of the chaos by eliminating those who had an alibi or did not know Lombroso, but all of this took time and it gave an overall impression of incompetence even though none of it was Tullio’s doing.

It was a peculiar spectacle and at times James thought that it resembled a cartoon from
Punch
. Each group of ne’er-do-wells seemed more grotesque than the last and the oaths and curses that emitted from their mouths were both colourful and often creative. Lombroso, and sometimes Borelli, sat at the heart of it all, leaning on their silver-topped canes and observing with, in Lombroso’s case, a kind of detached interest and in Borelli’s case, amusement.

This pandemonium took several days until finally the suspects were whittled down to five, all of whom had taken part in Lombroso’s experiments or been turned down by him at one point or another. At long last they were ready to begin interviewing them.

The first was a fellow called Ratti. He had coarse features, including a large, uneven jaw and a flat bulbous nose. His skin was swarthy and pockmarked. His details told them that he was from Sicily originally and had come to Turin in search of work. He looked completely bemused.

Lombroso peered at him over his glasses. ‘Signor Ratti – we have met before, have we not?’

Before Ratti could reply Machinetti burst in, as if he expected to find them all sitting round the table planning a crime. Tullio followed in his wake, looking sheepish.

‘Machinetti, what are you doing here?’ Lombroso asked tersely.

‘I am here to interrogate
my
suspects,’ Machinetti said pointedly. Lombroso sighed and looked imploringly at Tullio, who shrugged helplessly. Clearly it was out of his hands.

Lombroso turned again to Ratti. ‘So do you know me?’

Ratti nodded feebly. ‘You measured my feet.’

Lombroso nodded. ‘Ah yes.’ He turned to James. ‘It was a preliminary study that Ottolenghi and I conducted last year. We were measuring the anomaly of prehensile feet where the first two toes had an ability to grasp objects – as a monkey does. The results were most interesting.’

‘You drew them,’ Ratti added in wonderment. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘We wanted to record the shape which indicates—’

‘Enough!’ Machinetti cried, impatiently. James saw Tullio flinch. ‘Did you kill Giuseppe Soldati?’

Ratti looked at him and frowned in confusion. He shook his head, apparently unable to speak.

‘Did you know Soldati?’ Tullio asked, gently.

Ratti shook his head again.

‘Then how do you know you did not kill him?’ Machinetti asked triumphantly. Tullio stared at him. Ottolenghi started to snigger. Machinetti’s face reddened as he realised the stupidity of his question.

‘Do you drink at La Capra?’ Tullio asked.

‘Sometimes,’ Ratti replied cautiously.

‘Are you sure you do not know Soldati? He drank there regularly.’

There was a pause. ‘I might do.’

‘He looked like a monkey,’ added Lombroso.

Ratti’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, I remember – monkey man! Was that him?’

‘Almost certainly. Did you like him, this monkey man?’

Ratti shrugged. ‘Not much. He was stingy. He never bought a drink, except for one night. I never saw him after that.’

Lombroso leaned towards him. He instinctively sat back in his chair. ‘Did I pay you for your feet?’

‘Yes, you did. Most generous, sir.’

‘So you hold no grudge against me then.’

‘Not at all, sir. I’ll work for you again if you like. I’ve got hands too. You can measure them.’

Lombroso grinned at him. ‘That won’t be necessary at the moment but I’ll keep you in mind.’

‘Thank you, sir, I’m sure.’

Machinetti looked at Ratti sourly. ‘How do you make a living? Theft, pickpocketing, robbery?’ He moved towards him and bent down until they were face to face. ‘Murder?’

‘I’m an honest man, as far as I can be. I never killed anyone,’ Ratti protested.

‘Do you know anyone who would wish to harm Soldati or the professor here?’ Tullio asked.

Ratti thought for a moment and looked at Lombroso. ‘There has been some talk about a man who wishes you ill, sir. But I do not know any more than that.’

Lombroso looked shaken. Tullio seized Ratti by his scruffy lapels. ‘What have you heard?’

‘Just rumours, nothing more, about a man who holds a grudge.’

‘What kind of grudge?’ Tullio asked.

‘I don’t know, sir. Really I don’t. I’ve told you all I know.’

‘This man – have you seen him in La Capra?’ Tullio barked.

‘No, sir. I mean . . . I mean I have drunk there but I don’t know who this man is.’

Lombroso sighed and smiled at him wearily. ‘Will you tell me if you hear anything more?’

‘Indeed, sir, I will.’

‘Good man. Here is something for your trouble.’ Lombroso tossed a few coins onto the table. Ratti seized them gratefully and got up to leave.

‘Wait a minute,’ Machinetti snapped. ‘Did I tell you that you could go?’

Ratti looked at him fearfully. Machinetti paused and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ‘Now you can leave and be sure to keep out of our way!’

Ratti scuttled away and James couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He seemed a million miles away from Lombroso’s criminal type, in all but looks, that was. Still, there was something about his answers that did not seem quite right. When he was talking about the man with a grudge Ratti had looked terrified, particularly when La Capra was mentioned. It seemed to James that this was a man who knew more than he was saying.

Lombroso himself seemed deep in thought. He was clearly rattled by the suggestion that someone wished to harm him in some way. It made all of this seem more real somehow. Before, it had all been speculation, but now that it seemed likely that somebody really was out to get him, it changed everything.

The interviews continued but none seemed particularly helpful. Of the remaining four suspects only one appeared to hold any kind of grudge against Lombroso and that was merely because he had been turned away from one of the experiments for being drunk. All of them, though, had heard some kind of rumour about a man wishing Lombroso some kind of harm, although none of them could give any detail, even when pressed. Overall the exercise had been a complete disaster. All it had achieved was a gift of further moral superiority to Machinetti, in his eyes anyway, and a ticking off for Tullio.

Baldovino, of course, made the most of it and was busy not only painting the professor as a fool but also whipping up people’s fears with graphic rehashes of the murders, giving all the most gruesome details. These were illustrated with clumsy drawings of screaming women and bodies with limbs missing. He was not the only one. All the newspapers were vying with each other as to who could produce the most sensationalist stories.

Since DeClichy’s murder the atmosphere in the city had palpably changed. Before his death the victims were just criminals and people thought that they were more likely to meet a violent death, so the public did not worry. Now a respectable academic had been killed as well as a woman, and that made a big difference to how people felt. At night the streets were practically deserted. Extra carabinieri had been drafted in from rural areas and posted around the city, creating a ‘visible police presence’ as Machinetti was quoted as saying in Baldovino’s column. Several arrests were made after well-meaning ‘witnesses’ had reported strange noises or behaviour from acquaintances and even strangers. Suddenly people had started to care. Until then, no one outside their small circle had known enough to connect the first three killings. But now there was a new urgency about the situation for all involved. All of this was made worse by adverse weather conditions. The warm weather had been replaced by a thick fog which had descended on the city shortly after DeClichy’s murder and showed no sign of abating. This unnerved people even more. The sound of footsteps became even more of a potential threat when one couldn’t see who they belonged to.

A gaggle of reporters had taken to hanging around outside Lombroso’s museum, accosting everyone who went in or out. James himself had been forced to fend them off several times as they shouted out their questions in mocking tones.

‘Has the professor solved it yet?’ ‘Is he as clueless as everyone says?’ ‘I’ve got big ears – am I the killer?’