Giorgio Faletti - I Kill

Durand interrupted, and from what he said, it was immediately evident that he was far from inexperienced. He knew how to run that kind of meeting.

‘Gentlemen, there’s no one here but us. This isn’t a contest. Please share any doubts you have, no matter how negligible. You never know where an idea may come from. I’ll start. What can we say about the killer’s relationship to music?’

Cluny shrugged. ‘That’s another debatable topic. “Someone and no one” again. His passion is obvious. He seems to know a lot about it and love it. It’s a primary refuge for him, a sort of mental retreat. But the fact that he uses it to leave a clue, a hint as to his next victim, is a way of destroying music, using it as a weapon to challenge us. He feels superior, even though it’s based on a sense of inferiority and frustration. Get it? “Someone and no one.”’

Hulot raised his hand.

‘Yes, inspector?’

‘Aside from the psychological motivation, what do you think his practical goal is in removing a particular part of the victim’s anatomy? Let me make myself clear: What does he do with their faces? Why does he need them?’

There was silence in the room. Every one of them had asked himself that question over and over. Now someone was saying it out loud and the silence meant that nobody had an answer.

‘I can only guess, like any of us. Any guess would be valid at the moment.’

‘Could it be that he’s unbearably ugly and is seeking revenge?’ asked Morelli.

‘That’s possible. But keep in mind that a repulsive or even monstrous appearance is fairly conspicuous. Ugliness is something people notice immediately: ugly equals bad. If there were some kind of Frankenstein wandering around, someone would have reported it. Someone like that doesn’t go unobserved-’

‘But it’s worth a try,’ interrupted Durand in his deep voice.

‘Of course. Anything is, unfortunately.’

‘Thank you, Dr Cluny,’ said Roncaille, turning to Sergeant Gottet, who had been listening in silence. ‘Your turn, sergeant.’ Gottet started speaking on his subject with shining eyes, fuelled by the fire of efficiency.

‘We’ve examined all the possible causes as to why the UnSub’s calls were not intercepted.’ Gottet looked at Frank and it was hard for Frank not to smile. Gottet was obsessed. The term UnSub was an abbreviation of ‘Unknown Subject’, used during investigations in America but uncommon in Monaco. ‘We have a new mobile phone monitoring system, the DCS 1000, known as “Carnivore”. If the phone call goes through that, there’s no problem.’

Frank had heard of it in Washington when it was still in the experimental phase. He hadn’t been aware that it was now operational. But then, there were many things he was unaware of just then. Gottet continued his report.

‘As far as fixed phone lines are concerned, we can enter the radio-station computer, the one that manages the switchboard, directly. We can check on every access with a search for the signal, whether it comes from the phone-company switchboard, or directly or indirectly through the Internet.’ He paused for effect, but without Cluny’s results. ‘As you know, if you have the right software and some wherewithal, you can make calls from the Internet without being traced. As long as there isn’t someone as good as you on the other end. That’s why we’ve got a hacker who turned double agent. Now he’s a freelance consultant helping to protect against hackers. Sometimes he works for the police in exchange for our closing an eye on his past escapades. There’s some incredible technology available for this kind of search. Next time, we’re not going to let him get away.’

Gottet’s report was much shorter than Cluny’s, partly because he had much less to say. The mystery of that untraced call was a stain on the department’s freshly laundered shirt. Everyone would be rolling their sleeves up to their armpits to wash it clean.

‘Anything else?’ Durand looked around the room.

Hulot seemed to have recovered from his embarrassment and was cool and collected.

‘We’re continuing our investigation into the victims’ private lives but we don’t expect much from that. Meanwhile, we’re keeping an eye on Radio Monte Carlo. If the subject calls again from the vicinity and gives us another clue, we’ll be ready to intervene. We have a special plainclothes team, men and women, to check the location. There’s also a sniper unit equipped for night vision. We’ve contacted music experts who are willing to help us decipher the message, if and when it comes. Once the message is deciphered, we’ll put anyone we consider a likely victim under protection. We’re hoping the killer will make a mistake, since up to now he’s been infallible.’

Durand looked around the table. Frank finally managed to see that his eyes were hazel. He addressed no one in particular.

‘Gentlemen, it’s pointless for me to remind you how important it is for us not to make any more mistakes. This is not just a police investigation. It has become much more than that. We have to catch this man soon, before the press tears us to pieces.’

And the Council of State, if not the Prince in person, thought Frank.

‘Let me know anything immediately, whatever the time. Goodbye, gentlemen. I’m counting on you.’

Durand got up and everyone followed. The attorney general headed to the door, followed by Roncaille who probably wanted to take advantage of his presence for a spurt of public relations. Morelli waited until the two of them were far enough away and then he left too, with a glance of support at Hulot.

Dr Cluny was still standing by the table gathering his folders. ‘If you need me at the radio station, just call.’

‘That would be a big help, doctor,’ said Hulot.

‘Then I’ll see you later.’

Cluny left the room, too. Frank and Nicolas were alone. The inspector motioned towards the table where they had all been sitting.

‘You know I had nothing to do with this, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do. Everyone’s got their own problems.’ Frank was thinking about Parker. He felt guilty about the fact that he still had not told Nicolas about the general and Ryan Mosse. ‘If you come up to my office, I have something for you.’

‘What?’

‘A gun. A Glock Twenty. I thought you’d be familiar with it.’

A gun. Frank had thought he’d never need one again. ‘I don’t think it’s necessary.’

‘I wish it weren’t, but at this point, we should all be ready for anything.’

Frank stood there in puzzled silence. He rubbed his face where his beard was already a dark shadow.

‘What is it, Frank?’

‘Nicolas, I think I found something.’

‘Meaning?’

Frank went over to pick up the envelope and the cassette he had placed on the table when he came in.

‘I brought this stuff, but at the last minute I decided not to say anything in front of the others because it’s so insignificant. We need to check it first, before we put it out there. Remember when I told you there was something I couldn’t remember? Something that I should have remembered but couldn’t place? I finally figured out what it was. A discrepancy between the video and the pictures of Allen Yoshida’s house, the ones Froben brought over.’

‘What?’

Frank took a photo out of the envelope and handed it to Hulot.

‘Look at that cabinet,’ he began. ‘The stereo cabinet behind the couch. What do you see there?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Exactly. Now, look at this.’

Frank picked up the cassette and put it in the VCR. The tape was still at the point where he had pressed PAUSE. He stopped the image again and moved his hand to a point behind the two figures.