Hunted

by Monty Marsden

  “He’ll keep an eye out. We’ll step out cautiously. We’ll have make-up on and we’ll look very different. We’ll have our documents with us to show anyone.”

  “Hannibal was ready for him.”

  “I know, but we have to let him go and get us what we need first.”

  “Jack – wouldn’t it be easier if we left him alive?”

  “Are you crazy, Fox? He might not know our new name, but he’ll see our new make-up and the face that we will have to use for a while. He knows about the account abroad, the place where we keep our money. He has to die.”

  *

  Greta had woken up fairly late that morning. For the first time in a while, the alarm had woken her up from a deep sleep.

  She was confused for a few moments – her head was hurting badly, almost as if she was hungover. The effects of the previous night weren’t all that different from getting drunk – she had been overwhelmed by emotions, old feelings, waves of endorphins.

  After the show, hundreds of people had rushed to talk to her – smiles, admiration, questions. Maybe she had snubbed Claps a little – he had waited to talk to her for a while but then left. She was in a state of complete euphoria and she had let Montanari take her home – he had asked her to go upstairs with him. She had thought about it for a moment… she wasn’t a loser like Greta Lafenice, who pleased herself solo every now and again.

  She got out of bed and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was Greta Alfieri and her eyes were not those of a victim.

  Then, the phone rang. She had an awful lot of voice mail, all from the same phone number – the manager of the website that she had worked for until the day before. His words became increasingly harsh as he left more voice messages. The last one was from that morning and it contained only two words. It was a quick ‘fuck you’.

  No, he didn’t like the fact that Greta had returned to the glamorous world of TV and that she had ditched him just like that.

  Fuck him and his website.

  She had a shower and, when she was finished, she called Montanari’s editorial office to get the contact details of two people – if she could manage to talk to them both before the new special edition that night, it would be a miracle. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy. When the office called her back with the details, she had finished applying some polish to her toenails. The nail polish was red, like she used to wear long ago.

  There was no time to send out an email to the two interviewees and she knew that she could only convince them to talk to her in person. She rang the first number.

  “Is this Terri Schiavi?” Greta remembered her as a petite young woman, with a thin voice and a slightly submissive attitude.

  “Who am I talking to? I don’t have your number on my list?”

  That wasn’t quite what that Greta was expecting to hear. It was still a pretty voice, but her tone was decisive and hurried. Greta thought that Terri must be at work. “My name is Greta Alfieri. You might remember me – I talked to you seven years ago on one of my shows.”

  The voice on the phone became hesitant. “Yes… I saw you on TV yesterday.”

  “Do you have time for a quick chat, Terri?”

  “You’re calling about Riondino, right? I’m sorry, but I’d rather not think about him again.”

  Terri’s voice sounded quite assertive again – was that the type of voice that she had forced herself to use to carry on living a normal life? Was she the opposite of Greta Lafenice?

  Greta insisted. “I know what you mean, Terri, I really do. Maybe you know that I’ve also been through quite a lot. A similar story to yours.”

  “I remember. It was a few years later. Morphy.” Terri’s voice became warmer.

  “That’s why I think we’ll understand each other very well. I’m not asking for a full interview, more like a chat between two women who have both been through some tough times. I’m sure that it’s tough for you now that Riondino is in the city.”

  “It would be an interview without the cameras… just me and you, right?”

  Was she about to give in? “No cameras.”

  “There’s going to be another special edition of the news tonight… you will be there, right?”

  “Yes, I’ll be the presenter.”

  “Are you going to talk about our conversation?”

  “That’s my job, Terri, but I’ll make sure to…”

  Terri interrupted her. “I’d rather wait, then. We will talk later on, if you’re still interested. I don’t want any attention on me while Riondino is still on the run.”

  Greta was struck by the disappointment. Fuck, she shouldn’t have given her so much information. Even if it was absurd, Terri was worried that she would attract Riondino’s attention. How had she not thought of that?

  “Terri… think about it – you don’t run any risk of Riondino coming back to find you,” Greta tried to convince her.

  “You don’t understand – the person who attacked you is dead; he’s not roaming around the city. We’ll have a chance to talk, call me when they catch the monster.” Terri hung up, without giving Greta any time to reply.

  *

  “Greco walked out of the house a few minutes ago.”

  “Are we going to follow him?”

  “Two of our best men are following him – they won’t lose him, don’t worry.”

  “He mustn’t realise that he’s being followed.” Sensi glanced at his watch – it had been more than twelve hours since Riondino had got away following the explosion. More than eight hours since the official announcement on TV. Still nothing.

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  “Don’t worry my ass, Maiezza,” Sensi snapped, punching the desk. “I’ll stop worrying when Riondino is in jail.” Sensi regretted his outburst.

  “I’m sorry… I’m just nervous. The other one… Reggi… is he still at the market?”

  Maiezza nodded “It’s normal – he works in a restaurant. We’re not going to leave him alone any time soon anyway.”

  “Listen, if nothing happens in the next few hours, I want these two here by tonight. It’s time for us to ask them a question or two. We’ll begin with them, and then we’ll move on to the others.”

  *

  Claps was listening to Professor Reti’s conversations with Riondino.

  Slowly, Jack was beginning to recover memories of the other personalities. He was getting hold of them. The Earl, the Actor, the Professor – they were all fading away slowly, but they would still clearly show themselves under hypnosis. The process of merging was still at the beginning. Julia would rarely appear – she would speak sweetly about Little and about her poems, but she would keep quiet when the conversation was about Jack. Likewise, Jack would remain silent when the professor asked him about Julia. It looked like there was no hope of merging these two personalities, nor even them sharing their individual memories.

  Claps was fully engrossed in the conversation, but when the mobile phone vibrated on his desk, he jumped on it with his heart pumping like crazy. The hope of hearing about Riondino’s arrest faded almost immediately – Greta’s name had appeared on the display.

  Claps didn’t answer – he would only have answered a phone call if it came from Sensi.

  *

  “They’re here – I have the envelope with me.”

  “Did you open it?”

  “No, as agreed. I mustn’t know your new identity, that was our agreement.”

  “Good. Is anybody following you?”

  “I did what you told me to – nobody has been following me.”

  “Keep your eyes peeled. Where are you now?”

  “Outside the Post Office. I’m in the car.”

  “You’re a richer man, now. End of your problems. Are you happy?”

  “I will be when you’re out of my house, somewhere far away.”

  “That will happen soon, but I want you to do something else for me first. I need cash, about three thousand Euros. Take it from your accou
nt, then give it to me together with the documents.”

  “Listen… I’m not coming back home. I don’t want to see you ever again. I’ll call you and I’ll tell you where I left the documents and the money that you want. You’ll be able to find them easily. Then you have to go away.”

  “Fuck off! Listen to me carefully, motherfucker – do you think I’m up for playing fucking hide and seek? Do you think that I fancy getting my ass out there while the police are infesting the city? What’s your problem – you’re worried that I’m going to kill you or did you squeal to the police?”

  “I didn’t squeal.”

  “Then show me that you’re telling the truth – come back to me and give me the documents in person. If you have the police with you, you’ll become my shield.”

  “I said that I didn’t go to the police. I’m not so stupid as to hand myself over to them.”

  “You have half an hour, if you’re not here by then I’ll send that email together with your Liechtenstein account details. I’ll find a way to get out of here, even if it means blowing this fucking place up. If that’s what I’m going to have to do, get ready to never close your eyes again, not even to blink, because I’ll find you. And I’ll take you with me. And I promise you that dying will be a welcome relief for you.”

  *

  Sensi had another sudden burst of anger. “This fucking hat again… now he has glasses on, too!” This time, Sensi was examining the CCTV recordings from the underground station. “There are no frames where we can see his face.”

  “There’s no doubt that person is him, though. He’s one of the people who rushes out of the building after the explosion. The hat is the same one he was wearing when he walked towards the opticians.”

  “He has a backpack with him this time.”

  “Some fresh clothes… some make-up… some stuff to take with him on the run.”

  Sensi paused thoughtfully for a little while. “Did you identify the station where he got off?”

  “It won’t take long.”

  “Okay. We don’t have much to go on, but it could be worse. Let’s pick the clearest frames, let’s focus on his face and his clothes. Let’s spread those images around. I want them to be on TV and in the newspapers. There must be somebody who remembers seeing him somewhere or who noticed where he was going.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  Sensi thanked Maiezza and stopped him again before he was about to walk out. “Antonio Greco?”

  “He’s back home. He went in the back. It appears that he went out running errands, that’s all.”

  “What about the others?”

  “They’re all at work, including Reggi. He went back to the restaurant with the groceries.”

  Sensi muttered to himself, then dismissed Maiezza.

  *

  The body of the accomplice was lying on the floor, almost stuck between the car and the garage wall down in the basement. He was still breathing.

  Hannibal was perfectly calm. His heart was beating slowly and steadily.

  He had waited for him down there, in the shadows. He had watched him park and then approached him from behind as soon as he got out of the car. He had hit him with his bare hands and with precision, at the base of his neck.

  Jack reappeared slowly. His heart began to beat faster, his breathing grew hoarser. The envelope with the documents was on the back seat, together with the laptop. Riondino had to step over the corpse to get to the documents. He ripped open the envelope with his hands – his fingers were trembling slightly.

  Riondino smiled. Perfect – they looked perfect!

  “You can finish the job now, Hannibal.”

  Riondino leaned over towards the man, who was still unconscious on the floor. He grabbed his head as if it was a stone. He made a quick, decisive movement and broke his neck with a sickening noise.

  Riondino’s heart was definitely beating faster now, almost racing crazily. He rolled the garage shutter down behind him. He walked to the lift without realising that he was limping. In the lift, his eyes began to flick rapidly from side to side.

  *

  “Are you saying that you dream, Julia?”

  “Does that surprise you? Everybody dreams, Professor. Including you, right?”

  “That’s true – it’s fairly common.”

  “It’s rare for me, but it happens.”

  Claps was a little surprised, too.

  How could a personality that existed in the background have dreams? How could she dream like a normal person, when she was only a lost memory, a sunken relic?

  “What do you dream about, Julia?”

  “I know that I dream but I don’t remember what I dream about.”

  “You don’t remember anything at all?”

  “There is a dream that I have every now and then… but I don’t think I want to share it with you.”

  “Please do – it might be helpful in our therapy.”

  “I don’t know… I don’t want you to judge me.”

  “Go on, don’t be afraid – tell me.”

  “Will you tell Jack?”

  “It will be our secret, Julia.”

  “In my dream… I’m usually lying next to somebody else. Very close. That person is naked. They have a pretty body, perfectly proportioned. Their skin is milky white.”

  “It’s a woman, right?”

  “Yes… I usually caress her. She has beautiful breasts. Her skin is soft like silk. I love caressing her… and I keep on doing it… I talk to her… her hips are soft.”

  “Does the woman caress you?”

  “No, only I do. I feel her skin… both her breasts almost fit under one palm… her nipples are darker, compared to her white body… her vagina is deep when she receives my hand… it’s beautiful… I tremble… I never want to stop… but then I know that she has to go… and I walk away.”

  “Do you know where she has to go?”

  “No, but I know that she will put on a red dress… and then she will go.”

  Claps paused the tape. He realised that he was extremely tense; his muscles were all cramped up.

  Julia knew!

  She didn’t want to see, she wanted to pretend not to know anything, but she knew.

  The red dress was the blood that would clothe the naked, white body.

  Her innocence ended right there – it wasn’t so much about the sexual dream as such, the pleasure of possessing a body, but the fact that she was lying to herself. She would hide in a dream the fragment of a memory that she was sharing with Jack. And with Hannibal.

  Claps leaned back in his seat – he was exhausted.

  Multiple personalities… branches that grew from the same trunk… some of those branches bore sour, poisonous fruit… others had bland or sweet fruit. All of them came from the same plant.

  26

  After Julia’s dream, Claps clicked casually on a few other files to listen quickly to the other two conversations with Professor Reti. After listening to Julia’s revelation, Claps had found himself thinking about Riondino as one person, rather than multiple individuals. For the first time. There was no Jack, no Hannibal, who were both odious and dangerous. There was no innocent Julia, no prisoner of that sick mind. There was no girl that Claps had been feeling sorry for and somewhat attracted to.

  Professor Reti was right – there was only one person and that person had to be stopped immediately. Giacomo Riondino.

  Claps also decided to listen to a few conversations with Rinaldi; the arrogant idiot knew nothing about Riondino. The man who had fallen for Riondino’s duplicity and had declared him unlikely to harm himself or anybody else.

  *

  After Terri Schiavi’s refusal, Greta was prepared to be let down again. Doctor Rinaldi had talked to Claps, that was true, but he had also declined to make any other public statements, let alone consent to an interview. That particular moment in time, when a storm had erupted after the latest revelations from the media, and after the special episode of the news, was
definitely the worst time to ask him for an interview. The doctor’s mobile number was unavailable and nobody answered the landline. Greta decided to give it one last shot, although she wasn’t too hopeful. After all, even if she didn’t manage to interview Rinaldi, she still had a lot of material ready for that night’s special edition which she would be presenting.

  Greta stopped outside the building where Rinaldi lived, and decided to call the editorial office, to ask if there were any further developments that she needed to be aware of.

  Montanari was on the other end of the phone. “Not much, Greta. It appears that the police received about twenty reports but none of them were reliable. Do you have any news about Claps?”

  “I’ve been trying to get in touch with him this morning, but he isn’t answering his phone.”

  “Claps is a strange man. Let’s just hope that they don’t catch Riondino before tonight.”

  “That would ruin your plans, right?”

  “Your information will be breaking news, Greta, nobody else has it. But if they catch him before tonight, then all of our information will become secondary. Everybody else will talk about Riondino’s arrest. It would fuck up the show’s success.”

  “Let’s hope that he kills somebody else before tonight then, and that he tells us about it.”

  “Quit with the sarcasm. I saw how much you enjoyed fronting our programme yesterday. Mark my words – I said our show.”

  “I like the show, don’t worry. I’m trying to persuade somebody to give us an interview.”

  “Who?”

  “A real trophy, somebody that none of the other shows can get hold of. Rinaldi.”

  “You’re amazing! Give me a call when you’re done with everything and don’t forget that we have a briefing at 5 p.m. at the studios. We’ll be on air at nine.”

  You’re amazing – for the first time since her last show, Greta realised how much she hated fake compliments like that.

  When she pressed the telecom buzzer, Greta was almost certain that Rinaldi wasn’t going to answer. Maybe he wasn’t even living there any more – he had probably gone away to avoid all the attention. Instead, to her surprise, Rinaldi answered the telecom.