Valerio Manfredi: The Ancient Curse

‘Get me a sample of these oxides,’ ordered Reggiani. ‘I want to know what metal was lying there.’

‘Bronze, most probably, sir,’ answered Bonetti. ‘A bronze object of rectangular shape was sitting here for at least a few weeks.’

‘The slab of Volterra,’ mused Reggiani.

Bonetti looked up in surprise. ‘May I ask, sir, what you might be referring to?’

‘To the hypothesis of a colleague of yours, Dr Castellani. Have you ever heard of him?’

‘Fabrizio Castellani? Sure, I read a couple of his articles while I was at school,’ replied Bonetti. ‘He’s a serious scholar and a smart guy.’

‘Exactly my impression,’ said Reggiani. ‘You continue your work down here. I want a description of each and every piece. Write it all up in a detailed report. I want the original on my desk. Prepare a copy for the NAS director as well. But leave everything exactly where you find it for now. Massaro!’

Sergeant Massaro answered, ‘Yes, sir, Lieutenant. I’m here.’

‘You can send the others back as soon as they’re finished here, but I want you to stay behind with three or four of your men. As soon as Ambra Reiter shows up here, arrest her for illegal possession of archaeological materials and inform me immediately. Don’t let her get away. It’s essential that I question her.’

‘You can count on me, sir.’

‘I will. I have other matters to see to. Remember, make no false moves here. Be careful not to give away your presence. Wipe out all traces of the vehicles and this search operation.’

He took a final look at a group of fabulous jewels glittering under the beam of the spotlight, then went back up the stairs and headed back to the city.

FABRIZIO SET the bronze slab on the table and started to clean it carefully with a bristle brush. Where the encrusted earth covering the text was too hardened to be brushed away, he set to work with a scalpel, using extreme caution.

‘What you’re doing is illegal, you know that, right?’ asked Francesca.

‘Of course. Partial restoration of the slab of Volterra with neither the permission nor technical assistance of the NAS. Furthermore, I’m holding an unpublished fragment of the same which has not been duly reported to the authorities. They could even put me in jail for this.’

‘They could certainly put you in jail for this.’

‘But my conduct is fully justified by the emergency conditions we’re operating under and by the fact that the police are aware of the situation and have not made any objection.’

‘Well, your friend Reggiani belongs in jail too.’

‘That’s why we get along.’

‘So, then, why are you preventing him from carrying out his operation? Military action might stop further deaths from happening.’

‘It could provoke a far greater number of deaths. I have no idea what that animal is capable of, and nor do you or anyone else. What’s more-’

His phone rang.

‘Hello.’

‘Hi there, handsome.’

‘Sonia.’

‘I see you still recognize my voice.’

‘Not really. Your name just popped up on the display.’

‘What a wanker you are.’

‘I know you think I’ve been neglecting you…’

‘Neglecting me! I could have dropped off the face of this earth and you wouldn’t have noticed!’

‘I deserve a good kick up the arse.’

‘You certainly do! So when are you going to show up to collect it?’

‘Why? Has anything new come up?’

‘I’m done. With the animal, that is. The human bones are an entirely different story. The biggest piece is a few centimetres long.’

‘Sonia, you’re awesome. I can’t believe you’ve finished. So what does it look like?’

‘It’s got me scared shitless. I can’t wait to get out of this hole. If we put it on exhibition, the horror-flick crowd will all show up.’

‘Listen, Sonia, I can’t get over there just now because there’s something big I’m working on here. It shouldn’t take me more that a few hours… I hope. Then we’ll do everything the way it should be done.’

‘You’ve seen the papers, haven’t you?’

‘There’s no need. I know what’s in the papers.’

‘What a bastard you are! You told me nothing!’

‘I didn’t want to frighten you. I wanted you to be able to work in peace. And now that you’ve finished, my advice would be to go back home, where you’ll be safe.’

‘And miss out on what’s happening here? I wouldn’t dream of it!’

‘Sonia, please listen. Nothing that’s happening here is good. Exactly the opposite. I mean this as a friend: go home now, fast, while you can. We are all in danger, including you, I’m afraid. You’ve got to believe me, Sonia. I’ll call you a few days from now, we’ll meet up and I’ll tell you everything, all right?’

No answer from Sonia.

‘All right?’ His tone was exasperated. ‘Listen, if you go home like a good girl, I promise to introduce you to Reggiani.’

‘You just want to get rid of me.’

‘No, this time I’m serious. He wants to meet you.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Sonia, for God’s sake, give me a break here. I’m trying to save your life!’

Sonia was silent for a moment as she began to believe he wasn’t joking. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said. ‘Maybe you’re right. I do have a lot to do back in Bologna. Goodbye, then.’ She hung up.

Fabrizio didn’t know whether she was offended or angry or both, but it didn’t really matter much for the time being. As long as she took his advice. He then put her out of his mind and got to work. Using the charts he’d drawn up while translating the other parts of the inscription, he began to transcribe the text, one word at a time. After a while, Francesca passed him a cup of coffee and he glanced over at Angelo.

‘He still hasn’t woken up!’ he said.

‘The shock was enormous,’ replied Francesca, ruffling his hair gently. ‘Rest is the best thing for him now.’

The boy turned in his sleep and tossed off his blanket, and Francesca leaned forward to tuck him in again.

‘Wait,’ said Fabrizio. ‘What is that?’

‘What?’

‘Look. That bruise he has on his stomach, on his right side.’

Francesca paused with the blanket in hand as Fabrizio drew closer. ‘I don’t know. His skin looks red, as though he’d scraped it,’ she said.

‘How? It’s right where his liver is. Don’t you find that strange?’

Francesca covered the boy and looked into Fabrizio’s eyes, lit up with a sudden realization.

Fabrizio sat at the computer and called up the image of the lad of Volterra.

‘Do you see this?’ he asked Francesca.

‘This spot? It’s right over his liver, exactly where Angelo has his.’

Francesca shook her head.

‘What are you thinking?’ Fabrizio said.

‘What do you think I’m thinking? Angelo could have got that bruise in all kinds of ways. He’s a kid and kids are always getting hurt. Why? What do you think?’

‘What should I think?’ replied Fabrizio. ‘Here we have an apparently impossible sequence of events building up to a situation that we cannot ignore. The first time I heard the howl was the night the tomb containing the remains of the Phersu was opened, with its jumble of human and animal bones. Now that I’ve translated the inscription, I know that a horrible punishment was inflicted unjustly on a great, valiant Volterran warrior, Turm Kaiknas. At the same time I discover who the slender bronze statue of the boy in the museum portrays: little Velies Kaiknas, the son of Turm and his wife, Anait, the boy who was cruelly murdered together with his mother by their king, Lars Thyrrens.’

‘Wait a minute,’ protested Francesca, feeling as if she was grasping at straws. ‘All that is in your inscription?’