The Year of the Mantis

by P J Mann

  “You might have been the last person to see him alive, Ms. Fazekas. We will need your full cooperation to reconstruct what has happened to him. Where were you yesterday?” He slid a notebook from his jacket and prepared to write down all the details she could have remembered of the last hour of Claudio’s life.

  She raised a hand to her mouth, sighing with a vacant expression in her face to cope with the turmoil caused by the unexpected news.

  A few minutes passed in silence, as Maurizio patiently waited for her to react to the first shock and being able to tell something about what happened in the evening.

  A light shake of her head and she turned her gaze at him. “As usual, he came to pick me up, and we had a drink before leaving here.” She tried to recall.

  “Can you tell me where did you spend the evening? Did you go to a particular restaurant? To the cinema?” he asked, peering at her from time to time.

  “Yes, we went to a restaurant close to the Colosseum. I can’t remember the name of the place; we just chose it at the moment; we didn’t book a place there. After a walk, we took the car once again and drove to the Venus Caprice. That’s the place where I used to work as a dancer.”

  “You’re not working there anymore?” Admittedly he considered it strange, but on the other hand, if it were a question about his girlfriend, he would have preferred to have her dance only for himself instead of having her almost naked body in front of several other men.

  “No. Claudio wanted me to quit my job. That was the reason why he bought me this apartment and offered me an allowance.” Her voice lowered in tone, almost as she realized what it could have meant having a boyfriend who doesn’t live with her but pays her expenses. She didn’t like the way people jumped to easy conclusions, considering her nothing more than a prostitute.

  “What was the nature of the relationship between you and the victim?” Maurizio needed to go deeper into their strange romance, because he was sure the more he would dig, the more he would find out valuable information. Unfortunately, he was also convinced this meant bringing a lot of side stories to the surface.

  “I met Claudio four years ago. I was working at the club for one year already, and I thought this would have been the place where I would spend most of my working career.” A short pause allowed her to swallow back the tears, which were impossible to hold back.

  Recalling the preliminary chat, he had with Mrs. Martini and her son in the early morning, a detail jumped immediately in his mind. “Did you know he was married at that time?”

  “Yes, I did. We started to frequent each other as friends, simply going for a walk every now and then, chatting about our lives and backgrounds. He was interested in my homeland, and we often spent our time together talking about the place where I was born and grew up. I was hoping one day we could have visited those places together.” With a bitter smile she recalled her hopes, and dreams. “Then we understood something was growing between the two of us, and I fell in love with him. He told me he was married, but he wasn’t happy. According to his words, his marriage deteriorated many years before, and with me, he felt once again alive.”

  Maurizio rolled his eyes. He heard the same story so many times. It was the typical bullshit many men tell women to bring them to their bed. He wasn’t free from that sin, but since he met his wife, his life felt complete, and he didn’t need to go looking for anything or anybody else. Certainly, Madlen was beautiful and much younger than Claudio, and therefore younger than his ex-wife.

  Perhaps he got attracted by her exotic beauty, the particular job she was doing, or the fact that she might have fewer inhibitions in bed. Whatever the reason, it was a lousy line. So much exploited to become obsolete and vulgar. If I had a son, I would certainly teach him never to use this type of rationality with a woman or disrespect her. A disgusted grin darkened his face as he kept writing.

  “Did he ever mention the idea of marriage to you?”

  “No, or better, he would have, but he was living with his son, and he was afraid if he remarried, with a former sexy dancer, he would have never accepted it.” Her gaze lowered to her fingers twisting each other on her lap.

  Interesting, he thought. “Have you ever met his son?”

  “No, I haven’t,” she replied and continued to explain the story between Claudio and herself. “I didn’t want to leave my job, as that was the only source of income for me. I needed to provide for myself. So, on our anniversary, he brought me here and asked me if I liked the place. I thought he wanted to move in here so we could have been free to live together even if not married. When I told him I liked it very much, he showed me the purchase agreement and that the apartment was registered in my name. He gave me an apartment all for myself, and he promised to pay for all my expenses. When he told me he wanted me to quit the job, I never would have guessed he came up with this plan, so I thought it could have been a good compromise until we wouldn’t have the chance to get married or to live together like a family.”

  Turning his eyes at her, he started to put all the pieces together, “I’m sorry if I sound indiscreet, but unfortunately, this is my job. How did he pay your expenses?”

  “He gave me a monthly allowance of 2000 Euros,” she admitted, blushing as she explained the sum, she received from her boyfriend. “With my former job as a dancer, I couldn’t dream of earning so much. For me, it was a good deal because I could quit my job and keep seeing Claudio in my own apartment. This was going to be the place where we could have our privacy.”

  Well, this at least puts a shade of doubt on her involvement. What kind of interest would she have had in killing the source of her income? Without him, she would have to find another job or to return to work as a stripper.

  “What are you going to do now?” His concerned tone warmed her heart, as there was someone who wasn’t judging her as a prostitute who stole the husband from another woman and the family life from their son.

  “I guess I’ll have to find a job, perhaps I’ll be back at the Venus Caprice, although I wish not to...” She shook her head, that wasn’t indeed her first priority at the moment, she still had savings before she would have needed to find a job.

  Maurizio stood from the sofa, placing the notebook back in his pocket. He thought he had enough information for the moment and planned to come back to her once he put in order all the information that he gathered during the preliminary work.

  He peered at the clock and realized he had another appointment with the neighbor of Mr. Calvani, but also, had to skip lunch.

  “Just one last question, at what time did he leave?”

  “It was about 02:15 am. I don’t remember the exact time, but that’s the closest one.”

  Grabbing back the notebook and fixing that detail on it, he turned his glance at her. “For the moment, I don’t have any other questions, but I would be grateful if you wouldn’t leave the city until the case is solved.” he concluded as he parted from the sofa.

  “I understand, and I also wish to be kept informed on the advancement of the investigation. Of course, I understand I’m not his ex-wife, but I think I have the right to know who killed the man I fell in love with.” She tried to keep her voice calm, but her attempts failed, as she tried to stand to guide Maurizio to the door.

  “Before I forget about it,” Maurizio said retracing his steps. “Do you know this telephone number?” He took a leaflet where he wrote the Russian number that called the victim.

  She took the paper in her hands and after having observed for a while, she replied. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “No problem, thank you very much, Ms. Fazekas,” he greeted.

  Once Maurizio left the apartment, Madlen stood in front of the closed door, thinking about what had just happened and what would have come up next.

  The problems created by Claudio’s death didn’t have an easy fix. They would have required some fast action. The first thought that popped in her mind was the probability of the detective considering her a possible suspect for t
he murder, and if she wanted to continue her life in peace, she needed to find a bulletproof alibi, which at the moment she didn’t have.

  Glancing around her, as if to find an idea, her telephone started to jingle.

  It took a couple of rings to bring her from the depth of her considerations, and pacing to the table, she grabbed it and although she couldn’t recognize the caller from the ID, she answered. “Hello.”

  “Hi Mom, it’s me, Irina,” a young female voice replied.

  “My Goodness, you called perhaps at the best moment,” she commenced explaining. “But have you changed your telephone number?”

  “No, I’ve lost my phone, and I’ve asked for another SIM card from my provider. I went to visit a friend of mine, so although they will send the new SIM card, it might take some time before I receive it,” she tried to explain. “You sound shaken, is everything okay?”

  With a long exhale, Madlen went to sit on the sofa, where a few moments before she received the news of the death of her boyfriend. “No, nothing is right. Claudio is dead! Someone killed him last night, and a detective just left my apartment. I don’t know what to think, there’s such confusion in my thoughts, and I can’t find a way to organize or control them.”

  A long pause of silence fell between them, and the distances became endless, the loneliness unbearable, and the fear crawling from the innermost part of Madlen soul chocked her breath.

  “I’m so sorry to hear this! I’m speechless. I’ll get the first flight and reach you...”

  “No, Irina. Please, this is not a good time. I need to focus on what to do next, and I need to find an alibi because I was the last person to see him alive yesterday evening.” All Madlen was thinking was not to have any of the people she loved involved in that story. If Irina would have come to spend some time with her, then unavoidably, she would get involved in the murder case.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, but please remember I’m here for you, and whatever you might need, you can count on me. You’re the only person I have dear to my heart, and you know that.” Irina couldn’t hide her concern; she knew that dating one of the customers of the club wouldn’t bring any good news. She was almost waiting for something similar to happen, and as Madlen informed her about the death of Claudio, she understood she was right.

  However, Irina couldn’t say she was sorry about his death. She was convinced he was simply using her. She was like a luxury car, for him, something to show up to the friends. Probably it’s better it happened like this; it would have been terrible to be dumped once her beauty would have started to fade with the passing of time. Now she can rebuild her life, and hopefully, with someone who’s worth her trust and love, Irina thought as she waited for Madlen to reply.

  “Yes, darling. I appreciate your efforts to help me, but in this situation, you should stay there and far from here. I can’t solve my problems if I need to worry about your safety. When everything is over, we will spend one entire month together; we will go for a holiday where nobody can find us.” That was a promise she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to honor, but it wasn’t the matter of going somewhere together, it was the need of spending some time in each other’s company. That was something she’d been missing.

  A frown creased her forehead. “How are you doing, by the way?”

  Irina tensed her shoulders, “I’m fine. I’m planning to move away from Auntie’s place. I got a part-time job, and I decided to rent a place and share the expenses with a friend. This also means that if you have problems in sending money, you can save them for yourself.”

  “I don’t know for how long I can do so, but I believe I can still help you out until you’re not completely independent financially. The fact that I sent you away doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Here, I could afford what back home would have been impossible.”

  Her heart sank, fearing that from that day on, she had to decide who to help, her daughter or herself. Until she had a job at the club, this wasn’t an issue, and when she accepted the deal offered by Claudio, she thought her problems were finally solved. Strolling to the window, she moved the white curtains aside to glance at the streets. From the living room, she could have the view of the cars coming and going from the gates of the property.

  It was a sunny day, and although it was still winter, the chances of fair days like that weren’t ruled out. In other situations, this would have been enough to bring her out of her apartment for a walk in the city or to join her friends to one of their favorite cafeterias. That day, she simply wanted to be alone and think about what to do next. The silence between them was worth more than a thousand words.

  Irina sighed, “whenever you need to talk, remember I’m here. Don’t let me out of your problems only because you don’t want to create trouble for me. We’re together, do you remember? We’re still family.”

  “I know, it’s just a bad day. I’ll keep you informed about the development, and if I need help, I won’t hesitate to call you.” Madlen ended the conversation with a thousand thoughts chasing each other in her mind, and opened the door to the balcony, where she went to get some well-needed fresh air.

  For the first time in her life, she felt like she would have been safer at home and didn’t have any intention of leaving the apartment. The paranoia of being observed, followed, and judged possessed her soul, to the point of causing her to return inside and avoid being seen out on her balcony.

  CHAPTER 4

  Glancing at his wristwatch, Scala still had one hour to the time when Mrs. Moretti, said she would be home.

  That meant he had the chance to grab a quick bite before reaching her apartment.

  He entered the car and started to drive. His capability of miscalculating distances was once again spot on, and he didn’t consider the traffic jam that always managed to freeze the central area of the city. Between his curses and prayers to be able to control his anger welling from his guts, he finally parked the car in front of the building.

  A thundering noise grabbed his attention, forcing him to instinctively inspect the horizon, expecting to spot dark clouds approaching. The perfect blue sky didn’t conform with the rumbling he started to hear, making him reconsider the fact that he probably needed a holiday when, finally, he realized the storm wasn’t coming from the sky, but from his empty belly.

  The journey through the city took longer than he’d predicted—forty minutes more, to be exact. He didn’t have a second to waste. Placing a hand at the height of his stomach a grimace twisted his expression, “If you can give me one hour to get my information, I promise you a Porchetta sandwich, the one you like so much,” he begged, talking to his belly, as if it had a mind of its own.

  As the storm quieted, he rushed to the floor where the apartment of Mr. Calvani was, and taking note of the name on the plate, he rang at the door of Berenice Moretti.

  “Detective Scala, what a pleasure, please come in,” she said, greeting him with a broad smile on her face. “I was almost certain you wouldn’t show up.”

  Guiding him to the living room, she opened the blinds to allow the last bit of daylight to illuminate the room. “You see, I just returned from my errands. Please have a seat as I prepare the coffee.”

  Maurizio couldn’t reply, as she was already headed toward the kitchen; he scanned around to have an idea of the type of person he was dealing with. The top of the antique desk beside the display cabinet was the first thing that caught his attention. He wondered whether it was something coming with age, to have the desire to furnish the home with darker furniture and keep an insane number of pictures in the display.

  Thinking about his apartment, where his wife insisted on furnishing with a more modern look and to keep the photographs stored in albums or on the computer, he wondered whether this would be the way his home would look like once he would become a grandpa.

  He smirked at that thought – There’s still some time for it, at least I hope so. His eyes continued to browse the old photographs of children, gr
andchildren, and relatives. Entire generations had a place in what resembled more a museum than a home.

  There were war heroes, proudly standing to pose in their uniforms, the medals collected were displayed at the sides, and the family gatherings were duly reported through pictures.

  “At my age, all you have left are the memories of those who are no more within us and of those who come only for special occasions.” The melancholic, yet energetic voice of Berenice shook his senses, and with a light jolt, he turned to look at her.

  “I didn’t mean to be nosey,” Maurizio tried to justify himself, like a child being caught doing a bit of mischief.

  Her eyes twinkled, “Detective, you don’t need to apologize. I put the pictures on display, not only for myself, but to show them to those who come to visit. It doesn’t matter whether you are here for work or for pleasure, those pictures certainly provide a good discussion starter. But let’s not wait till the coffee gets cold. It won’t be a pleasure anymore, after all.”

  With a nod, Maurizio turned on his heels and stared at the table where Berenice brought not just the coffee, but a large assortment of cookies and sweets. He recalled the days when he was a child, and a guest was expected to arrive home. Those were the times when, for once, there was the chance of having his belly filled with all sorts of delicacies bought by her mother for the guests and by the guests to greet the hostess of the house.

  A chuckle relaxed his tensed expression, but immediately he recalled the reason for his visit and the fact that he wasn’t supposed to accept anything besides, perhaps, the coffee.

  “I’m on duty...” he mumbled in an attempt to refuse the hospitality of Berenice. He sat on the couch, and a loud rumble echoed in the room as a protest from his belly to his words.

  A giggle escaped Berenice’s mouth, “You are on duty, but your belly isn’t, so I don’t offer anything to the detective, but to the empty stomach, which is already suffering enough.”