She had told them that she had found a gun hidden under the mattress of the daughter, Giulia, while she was making her bed that morning. She had then begged them not to involve her any further - she didn't want to risk losing her job.
Then they had gone to Montanarini's house. The wife was there on her own, devastated by the news of her husband's death. It was the maid's day off, like every Wednesday.
Signora Montanarini, answering in one syllable like an automaton, without thinking, and without seeming aware of anything going on around her, had shown them to her daughter's room.
The gun was there. Hidden under the mattress. And that wasn't all. In the wardrobe, a dress in an oriental style, just like the one Samantha had described to him.
In the drawer of the dressing table, a huge bunch of keys and a metal hairpin missing one of its red jewels.
The jewel that was found in that cul-de-sac, behind the disco.
A puzzle put together far too easily. A puzzle where you can see how a piece will fit perfectly before you even try it.
And he doesn't swallow it. It doesn't add up. It's all too unexpected. All too perfect.
And perfection is only an illusion. He can't remember where he heard that, but he's convinced it really is true.
Before he sits down next to Viola, he picks up a threadbare, old teddy bear, lying abandoned on the armchair, and he rests it on her legs.
'I can't be on my own.'
'You aren't on your own.' He caresses her with his voice.
'The roses were covered in blood.'
Now he gently strokes her hair and he pictures the roses again. He pictures Giulia's face. He definitely hadn't imagined that she would look like that, his Black Widow.
'Giulia? We weren't very good parents,' her mother had confessed, standing in the middle of the room, holding a photograph of her daughter. 'She was a liar. She has always been a liar. She always wanted things… she wanted to have everything.'
'Signora Montanarini, come with me. Let's go downstairs. Perhaps you should call a doctor. Have you taken anything yet?'
'Yes, I had two of my tablets, but they aren't doing any good. They don't even make me sleep any more. She wanted a car. She wanted a convertible just like one of her friends got. She always wanted everything. She'd been begging her father for weeks. Her friend had been given a raise and bought the car, so Giulia had to have one too. She wanted that car so much… but to do this…'
She then burst into tears. On the sofa, she clasped the photo of her daughter, who now seemed to be sneering at her with that fake smile and all those white teeth surrounded by a bow of too-pink lipstick.
'Don't cry. It's all over.'
But Marconi isn't so sure of that.
He looks at the moon. It's red, unreal, magnetic. Perhaps it's the moon that controls women. The girl finally seems calm. She has fallen asleep.
Eva is staring at the moon as well. She stares at it, inhaling the light it gives off. She sees its reappearance, after such a long time, as a sign. She hugs Miew and thinks that a circle has been completed. She remembers the first time she did it, to that boy with a red scarf who wanted her money and had threatened her with an old yellow Stanley knife.
She had kicked him, hard. As hard as she could. She had heard a dull thud, and he had sunk on to his knees, his leg broken. He had tried to get up, and then she had struck him again in the face, without hesitating. A kick so forceful that she had shut him up for ever. Then, instinctively, she had picked up the knife from next to his body and had put it in her pocket, almost like a war trophy.
From that day on, she hasn't been able to stop. She does it for herself; she does it just to live. She needs to spill blood in order to cleanse herself… to clean up the world.
As if every drop spilt fills the emptiness she feels inside her. As if it can silence her fear, her anger.
She loves to tell herself that she does it for all of womankind. For her sister, for the girl sitting next to her on the bus, and for the girl going home now in the dark - although tonight the darkness pierced by the moonlight.
Sometimes someone has to be sacrificed for the greater good. Giulia's face, glowing in the light of the coloured candles, appears before her, but almost immediately Eva turns away from it.
And this time she doesn't turn back. Just like the special lady taught her.
On the table there's a small rectangular parcel, still wrapped up. Eva sits down, pours herself a glass of champagne, and unwraps it carefully. A red lipstick, as red as fire.
As red as blood.
She gets up and leaves the room to stand in front of the mirror in the corridor. She glides the colour over her lips.
She smiles.
Then she goes back into the kitchen and picks up the cat's bowl. She turns it over.
Stuck to the bottom with Sellotape is a small black cassette labelled 'CCTV - Montanarini villa - study', followed by a date… the day that Eva stole the pistol.
She pulls it loose and says to the cat: 'Tonight, Miew, we'll watch a very special film.'
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
The Girl with the Crystal Eyes Page 18
