well.’
Valentina nods. ‘ Capiamo.’
‘ Va bene.’ Verdetti pushes back her chair and leads the way.
Valentina is revising her opinion of the director. Sure, she’s stern. Maybe a bit of a control freak as well. But she’s impressively professional and must have the patience of a saint to deal with people as disturbed as Suzanna, or whoever she really is. And – on top of all that – she’s wearing a pair of black Gucci sneakers that Valentina would kill for.
The doctor opens the door.
Suzanna is sitting in a chair by her bed.
She doesn’t look in the least bit intimidated by the sight of the Carabinieri officers.
Verdetti makes the introductions. ‘Suzanna, these police officers would like to ask you some questions. Are you okay with that?’
‘Of course.’ She sits up straight and smiles. Valentina and Federico pull over some hard-backed visitors’ chairs.
Federico cautiously starts the ball rolling. ‘You say you’re Suzanna Grecoraci from Corviale. You are married and have two children – is that right?’
Her face lights up. ‘It is. I have two beautiful children. God has been very kind to me; they’re my angels.’
‘I’m sure they are. Where exactly are they now?’ asks Valentina.
‘With their father, Romano. He’s travelling the world with them.’ She looks a little sad. ‘They’re in Australia at the moment.’
‘Australia.’ Valentina repeats the word for no reason other than the fact that she can’t yet get a grasp on what’s unfolding.
‘Yes, I know that’s a very long way away.’ Suzanna laughs nervously. ‘Romano’s parents are down there. They’re very old and not in good health, so he wanted them to see their grandchildren – you know, one last time.’
Valentina tries to sound sympathetic. ‘Why didn’t you go with them?’
‘Oh, that’s a long story.’ She looks embarrassed. ‘I have a fear of flying. I’ve never been in an aeroplane. Don’t think I ever will.’
Valentina nods understandingly. ‘Do you recognise me, Suzanna? Do you remember where and when we met before?’
It’s clear from her face that she doesn’t. ‘No, no, I’m afraid I don’t. I hadn’t thought we’d met until now.’ She glances towards the doctor. ‘No one has given me your names, so I’m afraid you’re both strangers to me.’
Valentina keeps her tone non-judgemental. ‘I visited you in a police cell in Viale Romania and you attacked me.’
Suzanna looks shocked. ‘Oh no. That’s not possible. I’d never attack anyone. I’ve never hurt anyone or anything in my whole life.’
Verdetti tries to help everyone out. ‘If it wasn’t you, Suzanna, then who could it have been?’
‘One of the others, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She thinks for a while. ‘Well, if it was one of the others, it was most likely Claudia.’
‘Not Cassandra?’ queries Valentina. ‘Cassandra seems to be mixed up in a lot of bad things. Could it have been her?’
Suzanna stays quiet.
Federico sees an opportunity to push further. ‘Unless of course there is no Cassandra, and you’re lying about all this.’ He leans forward on the edge of his chair. ‘Are you lying, Suzanna? Are you making all this up?’
Valentina tries to cut him off. ‘Federico…’
He scents blood and won’t stop. ‘You don’t have any husband, or children. You’re just inventing all this rubbish about “others” because you’ve seriously hurt someone and now you’re trying to act crazy to avoid the consequences of your actions. Aren’t you?’
Suzanna grows tense.
The lieutenant presses his point. ‘Best tell us the truth now, before you make things worse.’
Valentina studies the prisoner. She no longer looks nervous. She seems angry.
Angry in a peculiarly restrained way. Like a politician or a headmistress when they’re under pressure.
‘I think you should go now,’ says Verdetti, sensing a mood change. ‘This may have been a bad idea. It’s too soon for her to face this kind of thing.’
Valentina ignores her. Her eyes are still locked on the prisoner and the extraordinary look on her face. If she turns violent again, she’ll be ready this time.
The patient stands and starts to pace the room, mumbling to herself.
She turns and glares at them.
Her face is filled with rage.
Her whole body shape has transformed into someone more powerful and more confident.
‘ Juno inferna! How dare you common plebs question my veracity? How in the name of Zeus dare you?’ She shoots Federico a contemptuous look. ‘Sweet Veritas should geld you for your impudence.’ She strides to within a foot of Valentina. ‘And you, girl – you are but a trollop with a mouth made loose by pleasuring too much cock. Now get out! Get out of my sight before I have you tied to the wheel of a chariot and whipped.’
Valentina gives Louisa a shocked look. ‘Is this Cassandra? The Cassandra in the note she wrote?’
The doctor looks worried. ‘Perhaps. Will you and your colleague please wait outside?’
‘Yes! Yes, I am Cassandra.’ She strides defiantly towards them. ‘And Cassandra is too proud to have whores like you speaking about her in whispers.’
The clinician opens the door and again urges the officers out. ‘I have to insist that you go.’
Federico turns to Valentina for guidance and she gives him an assenting nod.
They slip outside and close the door.
Valentina hears one final outburst from inside the room.
‘I know what you want. Oh yes, I know exactly what you and the snuffling pigs in that septic Senate want. I will never tell you. I would rather take my secret to the grave than tell you. You want the book, don’t you? You want to get your hands on it and ruin everything. Well, it will never happen. Never!’
22
The new one tries to hide her fear, but I see it.
We all see it.
It is glazed in the whiteness of her eyes as they lower her into the pit. Pass her into the womb of the earth.
She is naked and pink. Curled and cowed like a foetus.
Her soft, virgin skin is like a dropped silk handkerchief in the centuries-old soil. She sits on a cushion of earth, encrusted with the dried blood of many sacrifices.
Soon there will be more.
Above her, the drumming begins.
It starts like the peck of a bird, becomes the thump of a hoof, and grows into the stampede of cattle.
Taurobolium has begun.
The new one peeks through her fingers into the blackness above her and sees the first flickers of our lights.
I feel for her.
I envy her.
I love her and hate her.
We are lighting candles around the edge of the triangular pit. Her eyes catch mine and I fail to see what is so
