Valerio Manfredi - The Ancient Curse

‘Right, but you have to sleep sometime, and when you’re sleeping, you’re sleeping.’

‘OK, thank you, then.’

Reggiani was getting up to leave when Massaro called him again over the radio. ‘The special ops guys have come back, sir, and they’re ready to make their report.’

‘I’ll be there right away,’ said the officer. Then, turning to Fabrizio: ‘I was forgetting to say, you were good out there. It’s hard to find people with balls these days. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ repeated Fabrizio, and closed the door behind Reggiani.

Reggiani went back to the site of the massacre and saw that a couple of stretcher bearers were moving the corpse off the road after having closed him up in a bag. The public prosecutor was standing to the side, taking notes.

The head of the ROS special operations group that had been patrolling the forest came over to Reggiani. He was a young sergeant named Tornese who had distinguished himself in a number of brilliant operations.

‘Well, Sergeant?’ asked Reggiani, bracing himself to hear about their failure.

The warrant officer put his hand to his cap. ‘Sir, something very strange happened. The heli signalled the spot where the objective had been located and I had all my men and dogs converge at that point. It’s a woody ridge that extends towards the Mottola wasteland. The surface is solid enough, but not hard. When we were fairly close we held back the dogs and went forward ourselves to look for tracks.’

‘Excellent choice, Sergeant,’ said Reggiani approvingly. ‘And?’

‘We found them, measured them, but… I’m not sure how to say this. At a certain point they just disappeared.’

‘What do you mean by disappeared?’

‘The footprint trail just ended. There were no more tracks in any direction. In the area we’re talking about, there’s a steep wall of sandstone that was about to create problems for our helicopter. That’s where the forest ends. On the left there’s wasteland, and on the right there’s a dense thicket of brambles which is practically impenetrable. In between is a path, more of a trail really, that herders use. They take their swine through there to graze under the oak trees. The ground is stony, so if the animal went that way he certainly wouldn’t have left tracks, but right beyond there’s a bed of clay, the same soil as near the furrows.’

‘And you saw nothing there?’

‘Nothing. Just tyre tracks. But that’s a place where couples go to park, driving up from the other direction, from the Santa Severa slope. Not lately, obviously.’

‘Were the tyre tracks fresh?’

‘Looked like it.’

‘They were left by someone who’s not afraid of driving around at this time of night, in this area, with that beast running around loose. That’s a person I’d like to talk to. Did you take casts of the prints?’

‘No, sir. We didn’t know we’d need that gear. We came kitted out for a search party.’

‘I understand, but I want you to put someone on that right away, Sergeant. I’ll expect a full report from you tomorrow. I want to know every last detail. Sorry, but I’m afraid you won’t be getting much sleep tonight.’

‘That’s all right, sir. We’re used to it. Trust me, we’ll do everything we can.’ He saluted the officer and went back to his men.

The public prosecutor approached. ‘I’d say we can leave at this point. Have you arranged for surveillance for Dr Castellani?’

‘I have. I’m putting two of my best men on it. But my gut feeling is that nothing further will happen. I think we’ve seen all the action we’re going to see for tonight. Goodnight, sir.’

‘Goodnight to you, Lieutenant. You know, I noticed you lighting up earlier. I didn’t know you were a smoker.’

‘I smoke one a day.’

‘Interesting. When?’

‘Depends.’

‘On what, if I may ask?’

‘On how pissed off I am.’

SONIA ENTERED the museum library shortly before ten and wandered among the shelves until she found Fabrizio intent on consulting a catalogue of ancient bronze objects.

‘Is it true that another poor bloke has been killed?’

‘How did you find out?’

‘I guessed. Everyone’s saying that the carabinieri were out on a man hunt last night, right around where you live if I’m not mistaken. They say there was a lot of shooting – doesn’t sound like a picnic’

Fabrizio put the book down on a table. ‘No, it wasn’t. It was horrible. But don’t tell anyone I said that.’

‘Will you come down for a cappuccino at the cafe?’

‘Sounds good. Did you manage to find what you were looking for?’

‘Maybe. Something… I’m not sure.’

‘How are you coming along with the skeleton?’ he asked as they went down the stairs and out of the museum.

‘Well, I’m assembling the spinal column. It’s the most exciting work I’ve done in my whole life. Almost better than sex.’

Fabrizio shook his head but could not even manage a smile.

They sat in a corner of the cafe and waited for their coffee to be served.

‘So it was awful?’ asked Sonia.

‘Worse than awful,’ replied Fabrizio, mixing sugar into his cappuccino. ‘It was a bloodbath. You have no idea. But I saw it.’

Sonia widened her eyes. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘As I’m seeing you now. No further than seven or eight metres away. I had a gun and I shot at it, but it was already gone. They spotted it again from a helicopter but lost it as soon as they found it.’

‘And what did it look like?’

‘You’re not going to believe this, but just like your virtual reconstruction. It felt like being in a video game. Or a nightmare… I couldn’t say which. I only know I thought my heart was going to burst. So, what have you found out?’

‘I’m still searching through all the archives. I’ve even emailed colleagues in a number of universities abroad. I believe there is a chance, albeit a small one, that I’ll be able to identify the animal.’

‘So far what have you got?’

Sonia took a folder out of her bag and extracted a black-and-white print depicting a menacing dog with gaping jaws. It looked like an ancient bronze. ‘What do you think?’ she asked.

Fabrizio observed it carefully while munching on a sweet roll. ‘It resembles your reconstruction quite a lot,’ he said. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s a bronze sculpture from Volubilis, in Morocco. It may represent a race of gigantic, ferocious dogs that the Phoenicians had imported to Mauritania from a mysterious island in the ocean. They’ve been extinct for thousands of years.’

‘Good try, but it sounds like a lot of other stories that have come down from ancient times – devoid of any basis in fact.’

‘I don’t think so. A passage from Pliny reports that King Juba of Mauritania used them for hunting. They were said to be gigantic.’

‘So how did one of them end up in Volterra, a good four centuries before King Juba discovered them?’

‘That I don’t know. But I’ve found evidence that the Etruscans – towards the end of the fifth century BC – asked the Carthaginians to join them in colonizing an island in the ocean. Don’t you think there might be a connection?’

‘You may be right. Pretty nice work for a techie who doesn’t read Greek! But how could this animal still exist and be roaming the countryside, looking for people to tear into?’

‘You’re asking too much. I’ve come up with this information and it seems plausible to me, that’s all. As far as existing breeds, I’ve found nothing that resembles the skeleton, taking into account both size and structure. And to tell you the truth, I don’t know how to explain that.’