Hunted

by Monty Marsden

  She knew how to do real journalism.

  “The thrill of being live on TV, being involved in the news. The thrill of being alive again,” Montanari had said. “The reflectors’ light, the red LED lights of the cameras in action… and millions of people who know your face.”

  Yes, she missed all that. Fuck, she did.

  “Fuck you, Montanari.”

  Greta glanced at her mobile phone, which she had left on the other side of the sofa. “Fuck you too, Claps, for ignoring my phone calls.”

  16

  Claps woke up all of a sudden – he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling in the darkness of his room. He was sweating and his heart was pounding.

  A nightmare. He had had a nightmare.

  His breathing had become irregular.

  He turned on the light and was blinded by it for a few seconds. It was probably still the middle of the night, but he didn’t look at the time. His mouth was dry and his stomach was churned up with anxiety. He waited a few minutes to calm down and then decided to go to the kitchen to get a drink – he drank a lot more water than he really needed.

  It had been a nightmare. He tried his best to remember it, but he couldn’t. He had the feeling he had dreamed of a woman. Laura Minz, Dorina Gjioka?

  Greta?

  His breathing returned to normal and the anxiety faded. He went to his office – he turned on his phone, which he had kept turned off all afternoon. He found three missed calls from Greta and one from Sensi.

  Yes, he was sure that he had dreamed of a woman but he still couldn’t remember… the female figure had caused him pain and the feeling was still unsettling him.

  He turned off his phone again. He glanced at his desk and then, suddenly, he found what he was subconsciously looking for – the USB stick containing the interviews with Riondino, which Professor Reti had given him. He stared at it for a while, feeling simultaneously attracted and repulsed by it. He eventually decided to turn on his laptop and plug it in.

  Claps hesitated again, then he clicked on the file named ‘Julia’. His heart began to pound.

  This video had been made with the same zoom focus – Professor Reti was facing Riondino, standing almost outside the camera’s range; Riondino was sitting behind the desk in front of Reti. His hair had grown since the video where Reti had spoken to Jack. It was now tied in a ponytail, and his face was clean shaven.

  Riondino rocked back and forth with his chest rising and falling rhythmically, his eyes were closed. Claps knew that by that time, Professor Reti had already hypnotised him.

  “Julia? I’d like to talk to you.”

  Riondino didn’t react – he carried on rocking back and forth on his chair.

  “Julia?”

  For a good minute or so, nothing happened in the video – everything was crystallised in absolute silence. If it wasn’t for Riondino rocking back and forth, Claps would have thought that the video had stuck. Then the recording ended abruptly, resuming again a few seconds later. The timer indicated that the video had been turned on again twelve minutes later – Riondino’s posture was now completely different. He had sagged in the chair and put his feet on the desk. The expression on his face was both irritated and arrogant.

  “Do you have a cigarette?”

  Claps couldn’t believe his ears when he heard the voice – it sounded incredibly young, almost like a teenager. It was a different tone of voice from that of the other personalities that Claps had heard speak.

  “No, I’m sorry – I only smoke a pipe.”

  “That’s an old man’s thing. Shit.” Riondino wasn’t looking at Reti when he spoke, he was staring at his nails. “What do you want from Julia?”

  Claps’ muscles cramped up. The contrast between the young man’s voice and the adult face of Riondino was unbelievable.

  “I want to talk to her. You must be the Rebel, right?”

  Riondino suddenly raised his eyes to the professor, glaring at him. “How the fuck do you know my name? Who told you?”

  “It was…”

  “Forget it,” Riondino interrupted him, looking at his finger nails again. “I don’t care about who has been talking about me. Tell me what you want from Julia.”

  “I’ll tell you anyway – it was Jack.”

  “Is Jack a friend of yours? Then fuck off, both of you.” He said it without any anger, almost with boredom, as if he was about to yawn.

  “We’re not friends, but we talk sometimes. Do you not like him?”

  “It’s none of your business. Why do you want to talk to Julia?”

  “You don’t like Jack?” The professor asked again.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Professor Reti remained silent. Riondino was beginning to look nervous. “He bugs me. He always fucking bosses me around… don’t do this… don’t do that… I do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody tells me what to do and how to behave.”

  “How old are you, Rebel?”

  “Seventeen. Any problems with that?”

  “I was just asking… you’re young.”

  “I’m not as old as you, that’s for sure. And again – what do you want from Julia?”

  “How about this – I’ll give you a dose of your own medicine. It’s none of your business.”

  Professor Reti’s tone wasn’t sarcastic, he spoke gently.

  “In which case, my answer will be another ‘fuck you’. Forget her. I wouldn’t want her to talk to someone as rude as you.”

  “Can you talk to her?”

  “She listens. She knows that I want the best for her.”

  “Are you trying to protect her? I have no intention of harming her.”

  Riondino shrugged. “How can I believe you? You could be anyone for all I know. What do you want from her?”

  “What are you protecting Julia from? Or whom?”

  Riondino remained silent, he was becoming increasingly more nervous.

  “From Jack, for example?” The professor asked. “Or Hannibal?”

  Riondino’s reaction startled Claps – he lifted his feet off the desk and leapt to his feet. His face turned red and his jugular throbbed visibly. He leant over towards Professor Reti, brandishing his fist. “I’m… you’re… fuck,” he screamed.

  It looked like Riondino was very close to attacking Professor Reti. Strangely, he remained still, frozen in that position. Then he relaxed his arms again and sat back down with his eyes closed.

  When he opened them again, Claps couldn’t believe it. Seeing the Wimp turn into the Fox first and then into Hannibal and Jack had been shocking, but what he was witnessing now was beyond his imagination. Riondino was sitting neatly, his hands intertwined on his stomach and a different light in his eyes. His face was literally transfigured – his facial features were more stretched and gentle; every sign of harshness and manliness was mellowed, the wrinkles had disappeared. Riondino’s face looked rounder, fuller, in other words, more feminine. He had a smirk on his face. If he had loosened his ponytail, Riondino would have looked almost completely feminine. Claps thought irrationally of the Mona Lisa.

  “I’m Julia…” The voice was thin, not quite as high as a woman’s voice, but soft enough to make anyone to think that it was a woman speaking if they hadn’t seen his face. “He’s not an evil boy, but he’s young and impulsive, even if he thinks that he’s a man already. He thinks that he has to protect the people he loves.”

  The professor had moved away instinctively when Riondino had jumped to his feet and was now standing still, facing the camera.

  “Jack told me about you and what you’re trying to do to help us, but the boy didn’t know anything about it. That’s why he didn’t trust you. I managed to take his place before things… took a turn for the worse.”

  Reti moved a little, but his voice still sounded a little anxious. “Julia… what do you think about what I’m doing with Jack?”

  “I’m thinking that being locked up in here isn’t nice at all,” Riondino replied, incredibly cal
mly and gently.

  Claps was mesmerised by the remarkable transformation that Riondino had undergone and by the soft, gentle tone of his voice. As a result he was struggling to focus on the conversation. He paused the video and rewound it back to a few moments before Julia showed up. He closed his eyes – he just wanted to listen, this time.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” The professor finally sounded calm again.

  “I know that one of did something wrong, but I don’t know precisely what. Jack never told me.”

  “Do you speak to Jack often, Julia?”

  “Rarely.” Julia’s voice had sounded a little terse when she said that. Claps imagined that her face had turned a little darker too. “We’ve been here for a long time now and we’ve had enough of it. I’m very worried, not so much for me.”

  “Who are you worried for, then?”

  “The Rebel. You saw him – he’s introverted and aggressive and it gets worse each day. He’s full of resentment. That’s normal, considering that he has been deprived of his freedom for so long now… but I’m mostly worried for Little.”

  “Little? Jack has never spoken to me about him.”

  “I’m not surprised. Little is a child, who…”

  “A child?” The professor interrupted her in shock.

  “He’s seven years old. Jack keeps away from him, that’s why I’m not surprised that he hasn’t told you about him. It’s strange – it’s almost like Jack fears Little. He’s just a sweet little kid… he’s sad. He has something inside, something that hurt him and still hurts him.”

  “Seven years old…” the professor repeated, hesitating.

  Claps knew that the professor was disorientated, unsure of the best way to proceed.

  “May I ask how old you are, Julia?”

  “That’s a strange question… nobody has ever asked me before.”

  “I’m asking you now, if I may.”

  “Well, I’ve never thought about it. Thirty. Thirty-five. No wait, twenty-eight.”

  “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”

  “Ages.”

  “How long? Five, ten years?”

  “Jack says three years.”

  “So Little was four years old when they brought you all here?”

  “No. He’s seven.”

  “Are you saying that he was seven back then too?”

  “He’s seven, as I said.”

  “Okay, Julia…” Another short pause. “Do you often… show up?”

  “No, almost never. All the others are up during the day, the Wimp most often. I show up at night sometimes, but I don’t like it here.”

  “Do you rest the remainder of the time?”

  “Sure, I rest like everybody else. Otherwise I just do my thing, I spend a lot of time with Little, sometimes with the Rebel, but especially with Little. He needs a lot of affection, he shouldn’t be left alone.”

  “Do you not talk to the others?”

  “Rarely. Sometimes with the Professor. He’s nice.”

  “What do you mean when you say that you do your thing, Julia?”

  “My thing? When we were free, I would show up more often and I kept the house tidy, sometimes I would cook. I took care of Little, I got him to do his homework, I would take him to the cinema. I would spend a lot of time drawing.”

  “And what about now, Julia?”

  “I can’t draw that much, I just think. I think poems. I also make up stories to tell Little.”

  “What kind of stories?”

  “Stories that you usually tell children. Fairy tales.”

  “I can give you some colouring pencils and paper, if you wish.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “I’d like to see your drawings, Julia – will you draw something for me?”

  “It’s difficult for you to see them – Jack will tear them apart as soon as he sees them. He’s always done that.”

  “Why does he do that?”

  “He says that they’re ugly, girly rubbish. That’s not the real reason, though.”

  “Do you want to explain this further?”

  “He fears that Little will see my drawings and will be inspired to draw like me.”

  “Tell me more…”

  “As I said, it’s almost like Jack fears Little – he doesn’t want to talk about him, he doesn’t want to know what he does… not only does he behave like Little doesn’t exist, but he carefully avoids anything that is to do with him.”

  “You’ll agree that Jack’s behaviour is a little strange, right? Maybe he fears what Little could draw?”

  “I don’t know… Jack is like that. He’s always been like that. We have always been like that. It’s not strange.”

  The professor waited a few seconds, then he carried on talking again.

  “So… Julia… if you were to be free right now, how do you imagine your life would be? What would you do?”

  “Oh… not much. I would stay with Little, I would write poems, take care of the house… and go out… yes, I would go out, be around other people… but Jack would never allow me to do that.”

  17

  Claps struggled to fall asleep. In fact, he hadn’t even tried to fall asleep, because he had stayed at his laptop the whole night, listening over and over again to the conversation between Professor Reti and Julia, without ever looking at the screen.

  Julia… she didn’t know how old she was.

  Julia… she knew that Little had always been seven years old.

  Julia… she thought that time was an unknown dimension.

  Julia… she was a prisoner in Riondino’s mind even before he had been made a prisoner physically.

  Claps empathised with Julia, irrationally.

  She was a victim in her own way. She begged for justice. Was she the one who had followed him in his dreams?

  He tried to rationalise for a long time, telling himself that he was making a mistake by confusing a personality, the residue of a sick mind, with a person.

  Jack was a person.

  Hannibal was a person.

  At dawn, Claps had decided to play the clip yet again, this time looking at the video. Riondino’s face was so different… his eyes had a liquid and calm light, together with a veil of sadness and resignation. He looked vulnerable.

  Julia…

  Claps walked to the bathroom, his feet were heavy and tired. He decided to take a long, hot shower, to release all the muscular tension.

  While standing under the hot water jet, which both burned and refreshed him, Claps realised that he would never be able to run away from anything. He couldn’t do it. All those terrible stories, the horror, the death, the victims. The nightmares. They were part of his life, he didn’t have anything else. Nothing else. He couldn’t run away from them all. He just couldn’t.

  He finally understood who the woman in his nightmare was. The female presence with no face. It was the victim that he still didn’t know, the one that Riondino would kill if Claps didn’t stop him.

  *

  With a decisive snip of his scissors, Riondino cut off the quiff that made him look so much like Matteo Contri. The hair fell pathetically into the sink. With a little bit of hairspray and talc, his hair had become grey and old. Riondino drew wrinkles on his face with his make-up pencil.

  “Don’t exaggerate with the make-up, Actor – people will notice. All that you need to do is to look about fifteen years older, that’s all.”

  “Don’t worry, Jack, I know what I’m doing. Nobody will notice it, I’ll be a man in his fifties with a limp.”

  “Will that be enough? Will the facial features be credible enough?”

  “I’ll put some cotton wool on top of my teeth to modify the shape of my lips and make my face oval shaped. The glasses and the contact lenses will do the rest. Why are you so worried anyway? They’re looking for us in Rome, didn’t you see how many policemen they sent to that area of Rome on the TV show?”

  “They’ll soon realise that they wer
e wrong.”

  “Give me half an hour and you’ll see the reflection of a different person in the mirror.”

  *

  Eight in the morning.

  Claps turned on his phone and rang Professor Reti’s number.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you, prof… professor. I’ve only just seen what time it is,” he lied.

  “I only sleep a few hours a night at my age now – I’m already awake at dawn. I knew that you would try to get in touch with me again. Did you see the videos?”

  “The one about Julia,” Claps replied hesitantly. “Little remembers all the traumas from Riondino’s childhood… that’s why Jack fears him and keeps him at… bay… is that correct?”

  “Not only does he keep himself away from Little – he pretends that he doesn’t exist. During these years of therapy with me, he has never mentioned Little. I heard about him through Julia.”

  “Did you say that he pretends? Is it possible that Jack didn’t know about him?”

  “No. I spoke to him a few times and Jack knew very well who Little was, but he would suddenly become nervous and he would change topic immediately. It’s understandable – it’s common for many people to reject painful memories… almost trying to run away from them.”

  ‘It’s impossible to run away,’ Claps thought bitterly. The memories are always there following you, keeping you a prisoner of yourself and making your escape impossible. Perhaps multiple personalities were the only way to do that…

  “I don’t seem to have a recording of any of your talks with Little among the files that you gave me,” Claps said.

  “There aren’t any – I’ve never been able to talk to him. Like Hannibal. Funny, isn’t it? I can’t talk to the innocent one or to the guilty one.”

  “Julia is kind of innocent too, isn’t she?” Claps asked, feeling a little emotional.

  “Julia… she’s a very complex personality, unlike how it might seem. I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Claps.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sorry – I have to ask you something first. All these questions, all this need to know… are they going to be useful in catching Riondino?”

  “I don’t know, Professor. Maybe…”