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Esoteric Crimes
As she spoke, she pulled a silver cigarette case out of her kimono pocket, inside which were placed cigarettes that looked like they were rolled by hand. She chose one, brought it to her mouth, and held out the cigarette case towards us.
«Thanks, but I don’t smoke,» I said. «And I would be grateful if you refrained from doing so. Smoking bothers me.»
Without even considering what I had said, she lit her cigarette, directing the first dense cloud of smoke towards me, almost as a challenge. I don’t know how I did manage to hold back my anger, but I did.
«No more chatting, Aurora Della Rosa! Where were you last night when the fire broke out?»
She inhaled again and responded by emitting smoke along with the words.
«Last night I went to dinner in a restaurant downstream, “Da Luigi”. I didn’t feel like cooking, so I went out. I was on my way back when I saw the flash of the fire and called the police myself.»
«We will verify what you are saying. And, tell me, I guess you receive your customers here at home. They told me that you are a sorceress. People from everywhere and of all backgrounds come here, to ask for advice, buy potions, and so on. Judging by your car, it is a job that pays off. I don’t want to express my opinion on your work, I just want to ask you if you have received a particular client, a woman, recently, who could be the victim whose body we found.»
«My God,» Aurora exclaimed, surprised. «There was a victim? Who could have been in the woods at that hour of the night?»
«We hoped that you would tell us that! Come on, make an effort, I don’t think it’s that difficult.»
Thoughtfully, she inhaled other smoke.
«Whatever you think of my job, Doctor...?
«Ruggeri, Caterina Ruggeri.»
She blew another cloud of smoke in my direction.
«You see, the work that we sorcerers do is very respectable. I pay my taxes and I also joined the union of sorcerers, and I don’t sell smoke, like the one of this cigarette. People come because they trust me, and I also have to respect a code of ethics and protect my clients’ right to privacy.»
«Would you like to invoke professional secrecy, by chance?»
Carelessly, she turned off the cigarette butt in an ashtray and went on.
«I am not here to sell amulets or to deceive my customers about their possible future. I have good knowledge of herbal medicine and I know the issues that can be treated with medicinal herbs and those that must be dealt with in a conventional way. Many come here to ask for good advice and I bestow them, based on my science and experience. Nobody has ever complained about being deceived, I always say what my interlocutor expects, and everyone leaves happy and with an enriched heart.»
«Yes, but depleted in the wallet. Come on, I know your category well, you are able to make people believe that your deceptions are great remedies. I could agree on natural medicine, but on the rest...»
«Doctor Ruggeri, don’t be biased! We are all led to believe that what we see, and hear, and touch is the truth, that there is nothing but what is perceivable by our five senses, but sometimes it is not so. Inside this room, you can create optical and acoustic effects that make what is not seem true, and what is true seem false. Try to touch me, put a hand on my shoulder, and lean on me!»
I went over and tried to touch her, but my hand felt empty space where I saw her image.
«It’s a game of mirrors,» I said. «Some kind of a magician’s trick!»
«And now go to the center of the pentacle, on the central tile, and talk. You will hear your voice ring in your ears as if it came from a powerful stereo system.»
«Of course, it’s the effect of the room acoustics! It was the same in Roman amphitheaters. A matter of architecture! You’re going astray, trying to distract me from my goals. They told me that among your visitors, there is a particular category: the followers of a sect who recognize a saint in you. They come here to have access to your library and complete the process of achieving various levels of knowledge of the esoteric arts. Have you recently received any such visits?»
«The sect you speak of is the “Enomolas id ivres,” and it is not a satanic sect. Its adepts, through the various levels, assume knowledge unknown to ordinary mortals. For centuries, those who arrive here, or in three or four other places around the world similar to this one, aspire to achieve one of the highest levels of knowledge, the seventh. The path to reach it is very hard. For generations, my family has been the keeper of texts which can only be accessed by those who have completed the previous levels. Those who want to go further, to reach Universal Knowledge, must face the pilgrimage to the Temple of Knowledge and Regeneration, which is located in a remote valley between Nepal and Tibet. It is very difficult to reach the Temple.»
«I suppose you have already faced this pilgrimage, but that’s not what I want to know. I will repeat the question, have you received a visit from one of these followers in the last few days?»
«I have already told the policemen and carabinieri who interrogated me. The last visit of this type dates back to 1997, when a sorceress from a small town in Abruzzo, Sant’Egidio alla Val Vibrata came. She called herself Mariella La Rossa. She told me that before facing the tests that I would have subjected her to, she wanted to visit the magical places in the woods and around Triora, the Fontana di Campomavùe and Fontana della Noce, Via Dietro La Chiesa, and Lagu Degnu. It was the day of the summer solstice, one of the typical dates on which sorceresses and sorcerers meet, also in these places, for the Sabbath ritual. Mariella left at sunset and never returned.»
«And you certainly didn’t participate in the Sabbath and don’t even imagine what happened to Mariella! Come on, we know very well that these so-called Sabbaths are the occasion to perform satanic rites, sometimes sexual violence, other times sacrifices of animals or people. With your brainwashing you convince some people, the weakest from a psychological point of view, to be purified, to be reborn to a new life, and so on, as long as they undergo the violence that you propose during the rites. Not to mention all those cheated for profit. Cases, in which someone has lost all their belongings to follow a Guru, are not uncommon.»
«I already told you that ours is not a satanic sect. Those who join our organization do so by their free choice and by their desire to reach high levels of knowledge. I repeat that I am not a smoke vendor, and everything I say or preach has always come true. Show me your left hand and look me in the eye, Dr. Ruggeri. Could you be one of us, without knowing? I see that you suffered as a girl, I see mourning in the family, and that has marked you, I see a complicated love life, but that has recently been resolved in a positive way. You have powers above the norm, not indifferent perceptions, and a very strong aura, red as fire, nothing escapes your attention in those who are in front of you, not even a detail. And now go, Dr. Caterina Ruggeri, I have known everything there is to know.»
Without even realizing it, I found myself outside Aurora’s house, in the courtyard, followed by Mauro who, with an ironic smile, commented on what he had witnessed.
“That woman has hypnotic powers. She made you do whatever she wanted. She basically threw us out in her own way and, like all the others who preceded us, we are leaving too, with the tail between our legs.»
«Yes, but the witch is right, nothing escapes me, not even a detail. We will come back with another strategy. I just need to have a way to think and come prepared here. Let’s go back and check if the forensic has finished its work and then let’s have a look around. What were the names of those places the wicked mentioned about Mariella La Rossa?»
«Fontana di Campomavùe, Fontana della Noce, Via Dietro la Chiesa and Lagu Degnu.»
«Damn, you have a good memory! One doesn’t even need tape recorders or notebooks with you!»
«Yes, however, remember that the PDA can be useful for recording conversations. It is a very sensitive model and even by keeping it in the pocket you could record.»
«Yes, thank you for telling me. For sure it will also be useful for taking pictures!»
The men in white overalls and latex gloves were finishing their work on the crime scene. While one was taking photos, another collected soil around the victim by inserting the samples into plastic bags, and another scattered Luminol to search for any hidden traces of blood.
«Did you find something interesting?» I asked.
«It seems that the fire was started using flammable liquid, not gasoline, but something else that we will try to identify in the laboratory. We also found traces of wax, perhaps deriving from a torch of pressed paper and wax used in processions, in torchlight processions, so to speak.» One of the three replied.
«Did you find the torch?»
«No, doctor. But we are also removing charred debris, maybe we can find something useful. As soon as the lab work is finished, we will send you a detailed report. For now, we are done here. The Mortuary Police has arrived, and we can have the body transferred to the morgue.»
Returning to the square where our car was parked, a wooden sign indicating the Fonte della Noce attracted my attention.
«Let’s get over there and have a look around.» I turned to Mauro and, without even waiting for his reply, I took the path that led to an area of dense wood. We moved forward for a short distance and reached a clearing dominated by a large walnut tree, near which, from a fountain, an inviting gush of water flowed. Given the heat and fatigue of the day, both Mauro and I drank a few sips of the freshest water, then we started looking around to see something special, some signs, some clues. At first glance, there seemed to be nothing interesting. While I regretted not having my trusted Furia with me, an unparalleled tracker, my eye fell right next to the big tree, where I noticed some loose earth.
«There was a drawing on the ground, made with a pointed object, a knife, or a pointed stick. Usually, members of sects perform rituals in certain places, drawing symbols, pentacles, or other things, which are then deleted. It seems that the drawing has been canceled in a rush, given that it is still partly visible. There are also some writings. Maybe the ceremony was interrupted or disturbed, and the followers had to vanish, otherwise, they would have taken much more care in erasing the traces.»
«Do you think it could have been a Black Mass, perhaps with sacrifice, who knows, of an animal, a virgin, or one of the followers?»
«For now, I don’t think anything, I just observe and stock away what I see and hear. There are many elements, but I still don’t know which can be useful and which are not. The path heads over there. Shall we move on?»
After a few steps, the vegetation became so intricate that the path seemed to end. I was about to go back when I caught sight of a rusty figure about thirty meters away.
«It must be the carcass of the woodcutter’s vehicle that burned years ago. Nobody bothered to remove it, because the owner had been dead for years. Given the vegetation, I would say that we will never be able to reach it,» was Mauro’s comment.
«Yeah, we’ll have to bring suitable equipment to thin out the vegetation to have a look at it,» I replied. «Let’s go back to the car now!»
We started at a moderate pace down the path that led back to the bottom of the valley, along the enchanting Argentina Valley. After passing the built-up area of Molini di Triora, the road kept going down. An advertising sign indicated that a few hundred meters away we would find the “Da Luigi” restaurant.
«Shall we check the witch’s alibi?» I suggested Mauro.
«Yes, gladly,» was his reply. «And since it is late in the afternoon and we have not put anything under our teeth yet, I would suggest using the restaurant also for its specific function.»
The restaurant was deserted at that hour. We sat down at one of the tables and waited for someone to appear. The owner of the restaurant, a man in his forties, overweight, face sprightly and sweaty, was quick to show up.
«Can I help you, gentlemen? Unfortunately, we have very little in the kitchen at this hour.»
«Police,» said Mauro. «Would you be so nice as to answer some questions?»
«I guess you’re referring to last night’s crime. The place is quite far from here. How can I help?»
«You know Aurora Della Rosa, don’t you?» I asked.
«Of course, she is a loyal customer, every so often she comes here, and I take the opportunity to ask for some advice. I suffer from sciatica and she has herbal remedies that are much better than conventional medicine.»
«Was she here last night?»
«Yes, she arrived around half-past nine and left at midnight. She was strange, rather more taciturn than usual. She ordered food, but I don’t think she touched any. I also had to scold her because, sitting at the table, she lit a cigarette and was smoking in the dining room. There were not many patrons present, and nobody would have complained, but it is prohibited by law, you know, I had to intervene!»
«Was she alone?»
«Yes, alone.»
«And does she usually come alone or accompanied by someone?»
«It depends. Sometimes yes, she comes alone, but often she is in the company of a brunette friend of hers, a beautiful woman with a foreign accent. It seems that the two are a couple. Here in the area, they are said to be lesbians.»
He pronounced these words approaching us and lowering his voice.
«Homosexuals,» I corrected him.
«Yes, that’s right! Today, in the big cities, no one notices it anymore, but in our areas, we are not very used to certain behaviors.»
«Well, my dear Luigi, that’s enough! I would say that Inspector Giampieri and I would like to eat something. What would you recommend us?»
«Well, as I said before, there isn’t much choice at this hour. I can recommend a nice dish of Ligurian trofie with Genoese pesto with green beans and potatoes, a unique dish that will certainly leave you satisfied.»
«Bring us two large portions.»
It was almost evening when we reached Imperia and parked in front of the Police District.
«Here we are,» said Mauro. «You have reached your new workplace. It is not in the center of the city, while the Questura is right in the center, in Piazza del Duomo. I believe that tomorrow morning, before starting any activity, we should go there. The police commissioner is one who cares a lot about formalisms and therefore, sooner or later, you will have to introduce yourself to him!»
Mauro led me through a maze of corridors and offices until I reached the one that would become my office.
«Of course, but before going to the Questura, I would like to get to know the staff on duty here. Do you think it’s possible to meet the men early in the morning?»
«I’ll make sure they’re all here, with justifiable exceptions, at eight. For now, I think you’ll want to rest. At the end of the corridor, there is a room with a bed and the bathroom is in the corridor. You will find your luggage there and, whatever you need, know that I will spend the night in the gatehouse.»
«Well, until I’ll find a better accommodation, I will adapt, then we will see. Now I’m too tired to look for another sleeping arrangement. And then, anyway, I’m used to living in the same place where I work!»
I peeked at my desk, where a box was already dominating, containing all the records of the investigation into the people missing in Triora. I certainly didn’t want to put my hands on it at the moment, because I was afraid that anything caught in there could change the ideas I had gathered during the day. Better to keep a cold head and not get influenced by the work of others! My eye landed on a copy of a monthly magazine. I grabbed it, leafed through it, and focused on the article about the mysteries of Triora, published on the occasion of the disappearance of the three journalists, who were part of the editorial staff of the magazine: Stefano Carrega, Giovanna Borelli, and Dario Vuoli. A section taken from the notes from Vuoli’s notebook was found in a box, retrieved inside the abandoned tent of the three.
What’s the point of looking for witches? Above all, who are they, and how does one recognize witches today? There is no longer an Inquisition to indicate them. Maybe they still exist, maybe they just look different. In 1587 it was easier to recognize them: “You will see them putting images of wax and aromatic substances under the altarpiece. They receive the Communion of the Lord not above, but under the tongue, because so they can easily take the body of Christ out of the mouth and use it in their hateful practices. Furthermore, what distinguishes a witch from a sinner, or a bad woman, is the ability to fly in the night”...
Yeah, maybe towards the end of the sixteenth century, ordinary people still could not recognize the tricks and illusions of those charlatans and so thought of them as magic or witchcraft. But in the 21st century, come on! These three journalists had gone looking for witches in their village, and maybe they had found them! And had they been kidnapped by them? Come on now! This was all a frame, but what was the purpose? Hide a crime, want to make one’s tracks disappear, or for what other reason? And what did the sect have to do with it, what the hell was its name? Enomolas id ivres. What could that mean?
With my mind crowded with these questions, I went to wash and retired to the room Mauro indicated to me. The days were long and although it was almost nine in the evening, there was still light outside. I lay down on the bed without even pulling the covers down. I was dozing off when I heard a knock on the door. It was Mauro, who carried a paper cup with a steaming drink.
«It is not the best, it is tea from the vending machine, but I thought it could be pleasant before bedtime. Do you fancy something to eat?»
«No thank you, I still have to digest the trofie.»
«Well, however, I have news for you. Your dog, Furia, will be here by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I had the box cleaned up in the courtyard, where your predecessor kept his German Shepherd. I think, for the moment, it can be a good accommodation.»
«Thanks for everything, Mauro! But now let me rest. I am very tired and tomorrow we will have to face another really intense day! Good night.»
I looked for a light nightgown in the suitcase, undressed, and went to bed. I fell asleep and dreamed of witches flying on the back of their brooms, who gathered to invoke Satan, who participated in Sabbaths under large walnut trees. And then inquisitors who captured them, tortured them, tried them, and burned them at the stake. But the fire could not consume their bodies and they laughed and joked, despite the burning clothes and hair. And, in the end, the witches went away from the place of torture, dribbling children in swaddling clothes.
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