I Am God

by Giorgio Faletti

  She held the door open. As the man passed her, it struck Carmen that he smelled nice. The woman, on the other hand, smelled of vanilla and leather. As she closed the door, she wondered what they would have thought of her if they could have heard what had passed through her mind.

  She went past them and led them into the living room. She heard the young woman’s voice behind her.

  ‘I hope we’re not bothering you.’

  Carmen was surprised that a police officer would apologize. Usually they were quite rude. Especially when they were gringos like these two and you were Hispanic. That was when she knew they hadn’t come to her house bearing good news.

  They were all in the living room now. Carmen turned to look at the young woman so that she could see the words she was about to say weren’t simply said out of politeness.

  ‘No bother. Today’s my day off. I was enjoying a lazy afternoon.’

  ‘What kind of work do you do?’

  As she was about to reply, she wondered why a half-smile had appeared fleetingly on the man’s face when he heard the young woman ask that question.

  ‘I’m a nurse. For a long time I worked at the Bellevue, in Manhattan. Now I’m the OR assistant to a plastic surgeon named Dr Bronson.’ She pointed to the couch behind the two visitors. ‘Please, make yourselves at home. Would you like anything? Coffee?’

  She sat down in the armchair only after the other two had settled on the couch.

  ‘No thanks, we’re fine,’ the young woman said with a smile.

  Carmen had the impression she was dealing with a person who, when she wanted, knew how to put other people at their ease. Maybe because she was usually that way herself. The man, on the other hand, seemed a bit more fidgety. He didn’t look like a police officer. He didn’t have that no-nonsense air they usually carried around with them as an emblem of their power.

  She saw Vivien looking around, letting her gaze wander over the walls, the wallpaper, the kitchen counter glimpsed through the door to the right, the little dining room at the other end of the corridor. It was a quick but keen visual tour.

  ‘It’s very nice here.’

  Carmen smiled. ‘You’re very kind and very diplomatic. It’s the house of a woman who lives on her salary. Really nice houses are different. But I’m fine here.’

  She stopped and waited, looking intently at the young woman. Vivien realized that the pleasantries were over and she had to get to the reason for her visit.

  ‘Eighteen years ago you reported your husband, Mitch Sparrow, missing.’

  It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. Carmen was caught off guard. Especially as she’d only just been thinking about Mitch. In addition to which she would never have imagined that the story was still of any interest to anyone else but her.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Can you tell us what happened?’

  ‘There isn’t much to tell. One day he left home and never came back. I waited until it was dark, and then late at night I called the police.’

  ‘And what did they find out?’

  ‘He’d been at work, as always. He’d left the site where he was working at the usual hour, but never came home. My husband was a construction worker.’

  Carmen had the impression that the two of them already knew that last detail.

  ‘What kind of man was your husband?’

  ‘A very special person. When I met him all he thought about was his bike. And girls. But when we met it was love at first sight.’

  ‘No problems, no quarrels, nothing that might have made you think of—’

  Carmen interrupted her. ‘Another woman, you mean?’

  She had understood where the young detective was going with her question. Looking at her, she also had the impression she already knew the answer, that she had only asked the question because it was part of her job.

  But Carmen thought it was important to tell her how things had really been between her and her husband. Especially after what she had been thinking before these two people arrived and dredged up the story.

  ‘Believe me, Mitch and I and were in love, and he was crazy about his son. I’m a woman and I know when a man is distracted by other thoughts. Desire is the first thing that goes. Mitch thought about no one but me, day and night, especially night. And I felt the same about him.’

  As another woman, Carmen knew Vivien would understand what she was talking about. Indeed, the detective seemed satisfied with what she’d said and changed the subject.

  ‘Can you confirm that your husband had a tattoo on his right shoulder?’

  ‘Yes. It was a pirate flag. You know, with the skull and crossbones. There were words underneath it, but I can’t for the moment remember what they were.’

  ‘The only flag, maybe?’

  ‘That’s it. It was the symbol of those weird biker friends of his. We used to live in Coney Island and Mitch—’

  ‘Yes, we know about the Skullbusters,’ Vivien interrupted her, gently but firmly.

  Carmen remembered that she had reported her husband missing to the 70th Precinct. She wondered what could have happened for the police to come here from a precinct in Manhattan.

  ‘Did your husband have any broken bones?’ the detective continued, in the same professional tone, forceful but at the same time reassuring.

  ‘Yes. He fell off his bike once. Broke his humerus and tibia, I seem to remember. That was how we met. He was admitted to the hospital where I worked. When he was discharged, he made me write my phone number on the plaster. We spoke often on the phone and when he came back to take off the armour, as he called it, he asked me out.’

  ‘One last thing. Where was your husband working when he disappeared?’

  Carmen made an effort to call up long-buried memories. ‘His company was renovating a building in Manhattan, around Third Avenue, I think.’

  Vivien was silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words. There are words people say, it occurred to Carmen, which are like mathematical equations. However you change the order of the words, the result remains the same. What Vivien said next confirmed that fleeting thought.

  ‘Mrs Sparrow, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. We’ve found a body hidden in a cavity wall of a building on the corner of 23rd Street and Third Avenue. In the light of what you’ve just told us, we have reason to believe that it’s your husband.’

  Carmen felt something come and go simultaneously, like a long-awaited wave that only makes the boat sway before sinking back into the open sea. In spite of what she’d said earlier, after so much time spent speculating, now that there was certainty tears started to run down her cheeks. She bowed her head and hid her face in her hands. When she looked up again, straight at Vivien, Carmen had the feeling they would be her last tears.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  She got up and went into the kitchen. When she came back she had a pack of paper handkerchiefs in her hand. As she sat down, she asked the question that had suddenly occurred to her.

  ‘Do you have any idea who …’

  Vivien shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. That’s why we’re here, to see if we can get a clearer idea. Even identification is very difficult after all this time. We’ll only know for sure after the DNA tests.’

  ‘I have his pony tail.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  Carmen got up from the armchair. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

  She walked across the room and out into the corridor, where there was a door beneath the stairs. She knew where what she was looking for was kept. She remembered everything to do with her only husband.

  Her only man.

  And there it was, when she opened the door, a trunk full of things low in price but big in value. She snapped open the lock and lifted the lid. What she was looking for was on top of everything else, wrapped in a light cloth. She took out the package, removed the cloth, and looked at the object for a moment. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, the taste of the tenderness this stra
nge relic aroused in her. She also took out an old photograph, from around the period when Mitch had disappeared.

  Then she went back to the living room and showed her two visitors what she had brought with her. It was a dark wooden frame inside which, lying on a green cloth under glass, was a braid of fair hair.

  Carmen smiled at the memory.

  ‘When Mitch started work,’ she said, speaking with the same clarity with which she was reliving the episode, ‘he cut his hair, which he used to wear in a pony tail. Before he did that, I gathered it into a braid and had it framed as a souvenir. You can take this. If you can find any of the bulbs, you can get DNA from hair.’ Then she handed Vivien the photograph. ‘And this is a photograph of my husband. One of the last.’

  Carmen saw a hint of self-satisfaction on Vivien’s face. She had noticed that, all this time, the man had remained silent, looking at her intensely with those dark eyes that seemed to dig deep inside her. She had told herself that, of the two, the woman was the one who called the shots.

  Vivien took the photograph and placed it beside her on the couch. ‘A couple more things, if you don’t mind.’

  She took an object from the inside pocket of her jacket. She held it out and Carmen saw that it was a document holder.

  ‘Did this belong to your husband?’

  Carmen took it in her hands and examined it carefully. ‘No, I really don’t think so. It isn’t his style. He only had things with the Harley brand name on them.’

  ‘Have you ever seen this person?’

  Carmen looked at the photograph Vivien handed her, a photograph of a dark-haired young man and a big black cat posing for the camera.

  ‘No, never.’

  As Vivien put the objects back in her pocket, Carmen had the impression that what she had just said had disappointed the detective but not surprised her.

  ‘As far as you know, did anything strange, anything out of the ordinary ever happen in your husband’s work? Anything he may have told you about, maybe not thinking it was that important.’ She gave Carmen time to think, then said to encourage her, ‘For obvious reasons I can’t tell you anything, but I want you to know that it’s extremely important.’

  There was a hint of sadness in her tone, which conveyed a sense of anxiety to Carmen.

  She thought it over for a while, then made a resigned gesture with her hands. ‘No. Mitch may have been wild in the past, but we led a quiet life. Every now and again he saw his old friends, the Skullbusters I mean, but apart from a couple of nights when he came back home with a few too many beers under his belt, he was a hard worker, always did what he was told. At home he didn’t talk much about his work. He played with Nick all the time.’

  Vivien was about to reply when they were interrupted by the noise of a key in the lock and the front door opening. They stopped talking and listened to footsteps in the corridor that seemed more eloquent than words. Carmen’s daughter appeared in the doorway of the living room.

  She had short hair made spiky with gel, heavily made-up eyes, purple lipstick and black half-gloves on her hands. Her jeans seemed a couple of sizes too big for her and she had on a short T-shirt that left her pierced navel exposed.

  She didn’t seem surprised to find her mother in the company of two strangers. She looked smugly at the strangers, then at her mother.

  ‘You didn’t have to call the cops. You know I always come back.’

  ‘They aren’t—’

  ‘They have cop written all over their faces,’ the girl said, more bored than upset, and looking away as she put her key in her bag. ‘You think I was born yesterday?’ Then she looked at her mother again. ‘Anyway, the bad girl’s come home again, so your two bloodhounds can go back where they came from. And tell them if they don’t have a search warrant, they can’t take anything from this house, not even a tablecloth.’

  Carmen saw a shadow descend over Vivien’s eyes. As if she already knew this situation, as if she had already lived through it before.

  ‘We aren’t here for you,’ Vivien said to Allison, forcing herself to be patient. ‘We’re here because we had some news for your mother.’

  But Allison had already turned her back on them, as if the conversation didn’t interest her. She disappeared round the corner, leaving only the sound of her voice.

  ‘Who the hell cares?’ she said, as she climbed the stairs to her room. Before too long, cutting through their silence and embarrassment, the noise of a door being slammed came from upstairs.

  Carmen didn’t know what to say. It was Vivien who spoke first. The scene she had just witnessed seemed to inspire a new familiarity in her.

  ‘Carmen, can I go up and say a few words to your daughter?’

  Carmen was startled for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘I’m afraid they may be rather rough words,’ Vivien added.

  ‘I see. Well, I don’t think they’ll do her any harm.’

  Vivien stood up.

  Carmen gave her a small, knowing smile. ‘First room on the right, at the top of the stairs.’

  Vivien disappeared behind a corner, knowing that what she was about to say was something it was right to say to that person at that moment.

  The man who had introduced himself as Russell assumed an expression of slightly forced irony. Up until now he had remained silent but when he spoke, his voice was exactly as Carmen had expected it to be.

  ‘Vivien is a very determined woman.’

  ‘So I see.’

  ‘And also very direct, when she wants to be.’

  With a touch of self-satisfaction, Carmen agreed. ‘I’m sure she is.’

  They sat there in silence until Vivien returned. She had not been gone for long. Calmly, she sat down again on the couch.

  ‘It’s done. She’ll have slightly red cheeks for the next few hours, but she ought to have understood the way things are.’

  She took out her business card and placed it on top of the Sudoku magazine. Carmen saw her pick up the felt-tip that was next to it and write something on the back. Then she leaned towards her and held out the card.

  ‘This is my number. On the back is my cell number. If you remember anything connected with your husband, or have any more problems with your daughter, call me.’

  Vivien took the frame and stood up, and Russell immediately did the same, a sign that their visit was over. Carmen walked them to the door. As they were about to leave, she placed a hand on Vivien’s arm.

  ‘Vivien.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thank you. It’s something I should have done myself a long time ago, but thanks all the same.’

  Vivien smiled and shrugged, downplaying what had happened. But at the same time there was a tiny gleam in her eyes. ‘Don’t mention it. Goodbye, Carmen.’

  Carmen waited until they were at the foot of the steps and then closed the door. She walked back to the living room, thinking over the whole story.

  Mitch, damn you, for however long it lasted I hope I made you realize how much I loved you …

  She knew that the difficult part would come that night, when she had turned out the lights and found herself alone with her ghosts. For the moment she decided to switch on the TV and ask the world to keep her company.

  When the screen lit up, there was a news item about Saturday’s explosion on 10th Street in Manhattan. The images of destruction reminded her of something. She leaped to her feet, ran to the door and opened it. Russell and Vivien were still outside on the sidewalk opposite, standing by a car, as if they had stopped to discuss the outcome of the visit.

  She waved at them to attract their attention, and called out, ‘Vivien!’

  The detective and her partner turned their heads in her direction.

  ‘What is it, Carmen?’

  ‘I just remembered something. It was a long time ago, and my memory—’

  An excitable Vivien interrupted her with a touch of impatience in her voice. ‘Go on.’

  Carmen was embarrassed. For th
e first time in her life she was playing a role in a police investigation, and she was afraid of looking foolish or saying something they would think was stupid.

  ‘I don’t know if this is important at all, but I just remembered that a long time ago the company Mitch worked for, Newborn Brothers, renovated a house on North Shore, Long Island. The house of an ex-soldier, I seem to remember. A major or a colonel, something like that.’

  Vivien pressed her. ‘And?’

  Carmen paused again, then at last came out with what she had to say. ‘About a year after the end of the work, the house blew up.’

  Even though it was dusk and the light was dimming, Carmen saw, as clear as if it was day, the young detective’s face turn pale.

  CHAPTER 23

  Through the car window Russell and Vivien saw Carmen Montesa slowly close the house door, a lonely desolate figure trying in vain to keep outside the door something that would surely get in through the window. At night and with teeth bared. A moment later Vivien had already picked up the car phone and was punching in the captain’s number. Sitting beside her, Russell counted three rings before the answer came.

  ‘Bellew.’

  Vivien came straight to the point. ‘Alan, we have something.’

  The question that followed took Vivien by surprise. ‘Is Wade there with you?’

  Vivien instinctively turned to look at Russell. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Can you put me on speakerphone?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Good. Both of you need to hear what I have to say.’

  Vivien was bewildered. She found this procedure highly unusual. Though of course this whole business was unusual. Even crazy. Then she told herself that, in line with the promise he had made, the captain must have decided to include Russell in their conversations. Or maybe he had something to say that particularly concerned him. Vivien pressed a button.

  ‘You’re on.’

  The captain’s voice came through the car speakers, loud and clear. ‘Tell me what you have first.’

  Vivien updated the captain on their progress. ‘I’m almost sure the guy in the wall is this Mitch Sparrow I told you about. I may even have something that can be used as the basis for a DNA test. But we have to move quickly.’