The rip
Page 9
On the night table on my right there is a water bottle with a plastic glass nearby. I open the bottle and pour myself a glass of water, then I put it back on the table.
With some difficulty, I open the drawer and take the pill’s container. I unscrew it and take one of the pills in my hand.
I put it in my mouth and swallow it, helping myself with a gulp of water.
I put the cap on and put the container back into the night table drawer, which I then close with a long sigh.
Silence continues until Kris, in all her beauty, shows up again in the bedroom’s doorstep.
She is still wearing the red swimming suit with a sarong across her hips. Her long blond hair are wet and soaked with saltiness, like a frame around her beautiful face, now contracted by the worry, and her eyes that show all her concerns.
She comes near me and, before she sits on the bed, right where she was standing when I woke up, she puts on my lap what U asked her to retrieve from the safe: a framed picture, a jewelry case and a large envelop containing some documents.
«Why did you keep this from me?»
«Did you read the documents?»
Kris starts crying. Tears fall copiously across her face, yet she tries to stop them with her hands.
Among sighs and panting breaths she adds: «Don’t answer my question with another question. Why did you keep this from me? How long have you known?
«Four years... and even if you had known, there is nothing you could have done... it is my father’s last heritage.»
«Why?» Her words are broken by more tears, more intense ones.
«I don’t have much time left. I have corticobasal degeneration and the degenerative process is getting to the end... this disease is genetic and incurable... I have accepted with my condition long time ago.»
With all the strength and courage I can manage, I start explaining her what she is entitled to know.
I take the jewelry case and open it. Inside is placed that marvelous mechanism of precision that I kept with great care from the day my stepbrother handed it to me, and I decided to plan it all.
«Kris, this is the only object that truly represented a link between Marco and me. Our father had it made by a famous Swiss artisan. It is a unique piece. The strange pattern on the metal ring, like the one on the strap, the dial with the two-headed eagle... it’s a little flashy, but unique. Not considering its economic value, it has been for both my brother and me the object of desire since we were young... it was a special object, to wear on special occasions and to keep jealously for the rest of the time.»
Kris wipes the last tears from her face, yet her eyes are still full of them.
I keep telling my story.
«When our father died, he left the management of the company to me, and part of his patrimony and this watch to my brother. He was still quite young and the money was intended to see him through school.» I pick up the framed picture: «Have you ever seen this picture?»
«Yes» Kris sobs. «It’s the one, the lady inspector showed me during questioning: it’s you, Marco, Laura and Francesca.»
«Right. It’s the day I hired Marco at Sarca Pharmaceutics, it was taken right in front of the company building, which you can see in the back. If you notice, Marco is wearing this watch, because it was one of those important occasions... by the way this is the time Laura and Marco met each other and, from what you can see in the picture, their spontaneous embrace, their smiles... they should have had a long and happy future together.»
I take a break and drink a long sip of water from the plastic glass, which I then put back on the night table.
« Angelo, Franesca’s son, who at the time had just recovered from his drug addiction, took this picture... I helped Francesca get her son’s life back, I supported her financially and a few years later I asked him to pay back the favor... I asked him to recover the documents Laura had taken at Sarca.»
Kris looks astonished, just like she did back on the beach just earlier; but know I don’t care about it, I have little time left and I must end the story. She deserves to know the full truth.
«A couple of months after Laura’s death, I found out I was sick, noticing the first tremors and fainting. So, I decided to use in my favor Bonomi’s efforts to spy on me and sabotage our research. I wanted to benefit my brother, who would have gained control of Sarca when I died. I had deprived him of the love of his life; I would have done anything to beg for his pardon. I could count on Francesca’s blind faith, she would never betray me, and the misfortune of her son’s accident was but another lucky strike for me: investigations on Laura’s death stopped, no one would never know about my involvement and furthermore by helping Francesca’s son I would assure her silence on the researches even in the event our friendship ere to end.»
Compassion on Kris’ face leaves way to cynicism: «Yet something did not work out s planned...»
The time she was crying seems a far-away memory. I almost see a smile on her face. We share a conspiratorial stare, then I continue.
«After some time, Marco seemed to have recovered from Laura’s death, but in fact he never did. After the police closed the investigations, he decided to devote his life to understand who had killed Laura and he started his own investigation, examining and searching all the documents Laura had been working on. He was convinced, rightly so, that the solution to the enigma that was tormenting him was hidden there. When he discovered the industrial espionage we where the victims of, coming to the same conclusions Laura had gotten to, he told me everything and gave me our father’s watch as token of the revenge he had decided to carry on. That’s when I sadly realized what an avid woman I had married: she was after my money and had no scruples in becoming my competitor’s lover and accomplice... but even sadder was that I realized that I had to hamper my brother so that he could never find out the complete truth.»
I hear the tone of my voice growing deeper, matching the weight of my guilt; I almost reached the end.
«Thinking I would stop my brother’s aspirations from the very beginning, I contacted Scala, a Milanese crime reporter, who at the time had followed Laura’s investigation, revealing him some news that he could make public; but that same night, Marco killed his secretary, that was also involved in the matter... and more: for a strange trick of fate, he gave Scala the file he had been working on, thus starting the complex mechanism that took Marco to killing my wife, and us to plan and carry on Bonomi’s murder, and my brother’s own death.»
«My love, I don't’ understand: you said you wanted to advantage your brother... but we planned Bonomi’s murder so that he would be blamed for that, didn’t we?»
«Yes, we did. I wanted to take revenge against Bonomi, a man I was using but who had planned to destroy me... and Marco had found out the whole truth behind Laura’s death, including my involvement: I had to stop him at any cost... furthermore, you did not consider two relevant aspects.»
«Which aspects?»
«The first is that I met you: in the past two years, you were close to me and you gave me strength to fight my illness, but I loved you from the very first day... Marco ha decided to waste his life in a revenge that would have been completed only with my death, but there was someone I cared by my side, someone I wanted to give a future to and...»
Her eyes fill with tears again, but her glance is now full of love. I feel the sweet warmth that calms me deep inside. Her hand caresses my cheek, then she bends over me and her lips touch mine.
«I love you, Kris...»
Her look is sad again, she is fully aware that I won’t live much longer.
«I will be by your side till the very end, Marcello... we still have many happy days in front of us.»
«No, we don’t, Kris... the second important element is that I am tired to fight my illness and the sense of guilt. Justice must run its course... open the nightstand’s drawer.»
Her image accompanies me, while I close my eyelids and wait for Cortinic to carry on its effect.
Kri
s starts crying, but I cannot here her anymore.
AKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A strong hug to Norma, who some years back gave me the idea on how to structure this second effort and to characterize inspector Montorsi, whom I hope will be with me for a long time.
I thank and dedicate this novel to Ilaria, who not only corrected my impudent punctuation, but has also thought me that the “Milanese night life” can only be found in corso Como and along the Navigli, and that only detective Columbo wears a trench coat in July.
A kiss to the timeless Pamela, who put me in contact with Roberta: I hope I got her advices right and the erotic scenes capture well the feminine point of view.
A well deserved thank you to Yara, who took care of translation and editing.
Although I don’t know him personally, I have great esteem of the journalist that inspired Federico Menti’s character. I hope that, if he ever reads my novel, he will not be upset by the caricature I made of him.
Finally, I thank Stefano and all those who in the past years have repeatedly asked me: «Have you finished writing “The rip”?»... now I can reply: «Yes, and also the sequel “Cruore” is available».
Andy Ben was born in Milan on 10 December 1972.
He got a degree in Electronic Engineering at Politecnico di Milano in 2000.
He has worked as hardware and firmware designer in railroad and avionics sectors; at the moment, he has moved to the industrial automation sector.
He published “Ti ho scritto una mail” (Albatros, 2010).
“The rip” is his second novel.
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