Red Christmas, Page 2
Quelli di ZEd
might as well have looked for some information on the subject, I thought.
He didn't seem resented for my virtual slap and went on as if nothing had happened.
«We can imagine that he annoyed or molested the killer, and that the homicide was simply a reaction.»
«And why would the killer go around with a razor if he had no intention to kill?» I asked.
«Good point. He might not have had one. Maybe it belonged to the victim, who might have used it to threaten the killer.»
«So the killer took it from him, used it to kill him, then kept using it because he liked it», I said, half-way between a question and a remark.
«It happened already that an occasional weapon became the signature weapon of a serial killer», he confirmed.
I nodded. Those were things I already knew, based on my personal experience, but I was surprised that he understood them as well. His fame must have had some foundation, after all.
He could only work on available information. For me it was much simpler to reconstruct the scene, as much as to re-enact a memory, any night, Christmas and not. The night-time visitor I was accustomed to didn't come down the chimney, but from the door of my room, and maybe not even he enjoyed the kind of presents he bore, stunned as he was by cheap whisky. I, for sure, didn't.
I refrained from interrupting again for the rest of the exposition. I listened to the psychologist speaking about victimology, childhood traumas, predisposition to kill – and a lot of other bombastic words that wouldn't help a single bit in finding the author of the crimes – while I only kept thinking about waiting for the right moment to go to the lab and find out what they had found exactly. I gave him my attention again only when he hazarded a statement, «All things considered, even if it is statistically unlikely, your killer might be a woman.»
«What makes you think so?» I asked, this time genuinely interested.
«Starting from the presumption that the first victim tried to assault the killer sexually, it is most likely that the latter was a female or a child. A child, however, would hardly be able to easily get the upper hand on a bigger and stronger adult. Also, for the other victims, this would probably explain how the killer could simply walk into their houses without breaking in. She might have seduced them so they simply let her in themselves.»
My mind struggled for a few seconds to untangle itself from the torrent of adverbs that had run it over, then I went back to the usual veiled sarcasm to remark, «The victims had to be really self-confident if they believed they were sexually interesting while wearing a Santa costume.»
Rossi probably felt that he had to prevent an argument, because he raised a hand and shot a question before anyone had even acknowledged his presence, «But if the victims are approached sexually, why do they keep their fake beards on?»
There was a moment of silence. I could have answered that, but I waited to see what would happen.
«Maybe they don’t. The killer might put it back on them after they are dead, maybe to depersonalize them», the expert answered.
It made sense, I couldn’t deny that.
The exposition lasted a lot longer. More than I could stand, considering the situation. In the end, everyone had a quite clear idea about what the killer was, but no idea at all about who he was.
As soon as I got a chance, I went straight to the lab. I wanted to know firsthand whom the print on the weapon belonged to. I already knew whom it didn’t belong to. It would have been an unforgivable mistake to leave one after three perfect homicides, and I couldn’t believe it had really happened.
I was welcomed by Ranieri; bright smile, shiny lab coat, breath-taking physique. If I had to point out a woman who could seduce even the real Santa, I would chose her.
«Inspector! How come down here?»
«Rossi told me about the print on the razor», I answered, adding nothing else.
«Oh yes, I sent you the results a few minutes ago.»
«Any match?»
«Yes». The pause left me hanging from her lips, clenching my fists. I wondered if I had been mistaken. «It was the victim’s.»
The tension left me abruptly in front of the sorry eyes of Ranieri.
It was weird, although I had watched the man carefully, I couldn’t remember if he had been wearing gloves or not, or imagine how and when he could have touched the razor. For sure not while it was being used to cut his throat.
Anyway it didn’t matter, investigation were again at a standstill.
«Anyway he’s right». The comment had come from Rossi’s mouth, and hit me while I was walking the corridor, going back to my office.
«Who?» I asked, although I had the feeling that I already knew the answer.
«The professor. Maybe if we could find a connection between the victims we could understand who killed them.»
I took a deep breath and used it to push back down my throat a sour answer that the boy didn’t deserve. Or, at least, to make it a bit sweeter.
«We already know the connection, they were all dressed as Santa Claus.»
He had the decency to appear embarrassed. «Yes... sure, but... maybe there’s more.»
«Such as?»
«I don’t know... I mean, does this man kill people just because they dress as Santa?»
I shrugged. «You heard the expert. Serial killers always kill the same type of person. All thin blond girls, all dark tall men... why not all people in read costume and fake beard?»
«It’s just that this way we are clueless.»
«Right. It’s very inconsiderate for the killer to give us no help in finding him, isn’t it?»
Rossi’s face tinged of a hue matching his surname. I never knew whether he wanted to add anything else, because we were interrupted by another agent.
«Inspector, maybe we have a clue about the Christmas killer.»
«About whom?» I asked, not even trying to hide the reproach in my voice.
«Yes, about...»
«I understood, I understood. What news?»
«We found a perfume shop in the centre that sold a whole stock of old razors recently, maybe it was the killer who bought them.»
«Better than nothing», I sighed. «Let’s go hear them.»
I followed the patrol car with mine and parked quite close to our destination, sure that it was going to be another dead end.
While I was questioning every available member of the store staff – only to hear them chant back that no, they hadn’t sell all razors at once and no, they didn’t remember who had bought them and no, really they wouldn’t be able to identify anyone from photos, considering how many people shopped there in the holiday season – my mind was wandering on its own, lulled by the arrhythmic sound of a bell carried by the wind.
I almost didn’t even realize when a salesgirl informed me that she had sold four razors at once to the same customer, and it took me a few seconds to voice the following question, that I hadn’t prepared, «Would you be able to describe him?»
The girl looked at me with an intensity that bothered me, then answered, «He was dressed as Santa Claus».
My mouth curled into a distorted smile. «I see,» I said in a low tone, «maybe he’s just getting rid of competitors».
I let the agents go back to the precinct without me. The shift was over, and I wasn’t going to spend another night at my desk. I had different things in mind.
I sat down in the car, with the heating on, and remained there, listening to the radio for a while, until the shops around me started to close for the night, and the flow of people diminished.
I waited some more.
I don’t know what time it was when I saw him pass by. He no longer had the bell, but it was him.
I was about to disengage the handbrake when I realized he wasn’t going toward a car, so I left mine, put on my jacket and gloves, and followed him by foot for a few blocks, until he reached the front gate of a building and started fumbling with some keys.
I moved a few steps closer.
He turned, looked at me and maybe smiled. Hard to tell with the fake beard on his face.
I showed him my document, not getting too close. «I am inspector Mieli, I’d appreciate if you could answer a few questions».
His eyes betrayed some surprise, but it was just a second.
«Of course, if I can help...» he answered, pulling the beard under his chin. «But let’s go inside, it’s cold out here.»
I smiled and prepared to follow him.
My hand, in the pocket, brushed the handle of the razor.
Acknowledgements
A sincere thanks to Luca Pagnini, who helped me in using realistic ranks and terminology for the Italian police.
The Author
Carmelo Massimo Tidona, employee, writer and translator in his spare time, has been reading and writing since as long as he can remember. Some of his short stories have been published in various anthologies.
For 0111edizioni Carmelo Massimo Tidona published:
“Trittico Oscuro”, collection of urban fantasy tales (2009, Italian).
“Riflessi d’Ombra”, urban fantasy novel (2009, Italian)
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