Jon Tracy - The Rome Prophecy

‘What do you mean?’

‘She imagines that she’s somewhere else and that whatever horrible thing her mother is doing is not happening to her. It’s happening to some other kid. Someone tough enough to take it.’

Distressing as it sounds, Valentina can see the logic. ‘Go on.’

Louisa does. ‘So, when Mother turns up to routinely abuse Anna, Anna routinely sends out her alter – Anna, a stronger and more detached side of her, to cope with the abuse. The longer this goes on, the more permanent the alter-Anna, probably Little Suzie Fratelli, as we’ve come to know her, becomes.’

‘How do you explain the others?’ asks Tom. ‘Cassandra, the Roman victim; Suzanna Grecoraci, the mother of two children; and Claudia from the Sabines.’

‘Sometimes a second or third abuser – or different levels of abuse – enters the dimension, and therefore a second or third alter is needed. As layers of trauma are added, more layers of alters – protection – are necessary.’

Tom hasn’t bought totally into the theory. ‘I know child abuse is one of the horrors of our modern-day world, but isn’t it usually the father, not the mother, who’s the offender? And isn’t it highly unusual for a mother to sexually abuse her own daughter?’

Valentina interrupts. ‘Yes, but not unheard of. And remember, it can be a stepmother as much as a mother. There’s a famous case in Britain of a serial killer who abused her daughter sexually, physically and psychologically for years. She and the girl’s father even killed her sister and buried her under a patio.’ Louisa becomes practical. ‘As I said earlier, now that we have her real name, we’ll search all the local doctors’ records for any history of physical, mental or sexual abuse.’

‘We’ll do the same,’ counters Valentina. ‘We’ll trace her mother and father and search for criminal records, social reports, anything that suggests incest or sexual assault from neighbours or extended family.’

Tom says nothing. He’s lost in his thoughts. Thoughts that suggest what’s going on could be even more than child abuse.

Guilio Brygus Angelis is brought into the interview room with handcuffs around his wrists and chains around his ankles.

Federico Assante introduces himself, sets a voice recorder whirring, reads him his rights and sits back without saying anything.

He wants to take stock.

This is an unusual case, with unusual victims. Now he’s face to face with an unusual suspect.

Angelis looks slender and harmless.

Certainly no giant.

At a guess, he weighs in at less than eleven stone. That said, he’s not carrying any body fat, and his arms are rippling with sinewy muscles. He certainly keeps himself fit; no doubt with some form of fight training. Federico wonders if there’s even a special martial art for eunuchs, like there is for Shaolin monks.

He studies the guy’s face.

No eyebrows.

Amazing how one missing feature messes up your whole appearance.

No beard line either. It gives him a strange softness that male models have. Metrosexuality.

The goon has the skin of a ten-year-old boy. Federico runs fingers over his own stubbly beard. It would be great not to shave again.

But not at the price of having your nuts cut off.

Then there are his eyes.

Federico has seen eyes like that before.

Many times before.

Savage eyes.

Criminal eyes.

Eyes that don’t blink when a fight’s about to break out. Eyes that don’t look away when there’s blood spilling and knives flashing under the street lights.

Now Federico’s got the measure of him.

He’s ready to start the interview.

‘So, Guilio, do you feel like talking to us today? Or do we just send your silent ass for trial on charges of breaking and entering, assault and maybe even the attempted murder of Anna Fratelli?’

Angelis is using his index finger to doodle in the dust on top of the interview table.

He finishes a line, lifts his eyes and lets a cold stare settle on the detective’s face.

Smug bastard.

A hard-working cop, but not that bright.

The fool thinks he’s much cleverer than he really is.

Thinks he knows what’s going on, but he doesn’t have a clue. He certainly has no idea about how wrong he’s got it. Okay, he’s smart enough and energetic enough to take some prints and use them to pull a rap sheet.

Big deal.

Sooner or later that was always going to happen.

And by now he’s probably also traced his home address and got some other fools to pull the place apart.

No matter.

They won’t find anything. Certainly nothing that will make any sense to them.

But they know about Anna.

And that’s a shame.

Anna should be invisible.

She shouldn’t be seen by jerks like the one sitting opposite him, or that woman detective and her big thug.

It would have been good to have spent more time with them.

To have dealt with them properly.

‘What’s it to be, Guilio? We talk, maybe try to work in some mitigation to the charges, or you go straight to court and look forward to an eternity of being ass-fucked in prison?’

Angelis lets a smug smile spread across his face. ‘I’d like a lawyer. Get me a brief within the hour and maybe I’ll be good to you when I file my own charges.’

Federico laughs. ‘Of what?’

He leans back and crosses his arms. ‘False arrest. Assault. Defamation of character.’

‘That’s funny. Ha ha. We caught you right in the middle of the apartment, Guilio. Hiding in the damned dark.’

His arms stay crossed and his eyes remain fixed on the lieutenant’s face.

Federico gets a bad feeling.

‘Have you asked Anna about me?’ Angelis pauses and reads the detective’s face. ‘I thought not. When you do, you’ll find out why I was there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She wanted me there. She asked me to be there.’ He uncrosses his arms and leans across the table. ‘I was protecting her, you idiot. Not attacking her.’

To everyone’s relief, Anna is still Anna.

Louisa Verdetti passes out a tray of drinks. Cola Lite for Valentina and Anna, espresso doppio and water for Tom and herself.

Valentina’s phone rings. She apologises and ducks outside the patient’s room to take the call.

Louisa hopes she stays there.

Getting through the layers of alters and down to the host is something of a clinical breakthrough. The chance of an uncluttered discussion with a DID sufferer is precious, and she’s scared to death that questions about crimes and investigations are going to send Anna plunging back behind the cover of one of the alternative personalities.

‘Do you feel okay to continue with our chat?’she asks kindly.

‘Of course.’ Anna sounds as sprightly as if she were being asked directions on a warm summer Sunday. ‘What is it you want to know?’

Valentina’s sudden return interrupts them.

She smiles apologetically, clicks the door quietly behind her and despite seeing that Louisa is in mid-conversation, addresses Anna directly. ‘Do you know a man called Guilio Angelis?’

‘Yes. Guilio works with me.’

Valentina makes her way to a chair alongside Anna’s. ‘We discovered him in your apartment yesterday, before we found you. Did you invite him inside?’

Now Anna has to think. A lot has happened since yesterday. She remembers doctors leaning over her, masked faces, blood everywhere, her blood, and before that – only blackness.

Blackness in the wardrobe, where she was frightened. Blackness in that safe place in her own mind where she goes when terrible things start to happen.

And before that?

Slowly she starts to remember.