‘Triangle overload,’ observes Valentina.
Tom isn’t put off by her interruption. ‘Indeed. Jewish communists had to wear overlapping red and yellow ones. Modern homosexual communities still use pink triangles as a symbol of gay and lesbian liberation.’
Valentina tries to make a connection to her case. ‘So, the Latin – Deliver us from evil – and the references to suffrage and souls in purgatory: we take all this as some cry from persecuted souls beyond the grave?’
Tom doesn’t answer at first. ‘Symbols gets hijacked,’ he says finally. ‘They’re often misinterpreted. You’ll have to be careful that this particular one doesn’t mislead you. For example, within cosmic geometric symbolism, triangles are also used to signify a connection between heaven and earth.’
‘Purgatory again?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. Egyptians used a triangle with an eye in it to symbolise the sun god Horus and his all- seeing ability. It became the basis of charms to ward off evil. Then again, if you go back to the Greeks, the triangle was a very positive symbol; it represented the vulva of the Mother Delta. And for the Hebrews it was a symbol of truth.’
‘Truth, as in the Bocca della Verita – the Mouth of Truth.’ Valentina scratches her hands through her hair. ‘There are too many coincidences now. A woman with an ancient sword talking as though she is possessed or living centuries ago; brutal violence in a famous church linked with rituals about the public acclamation of truth; and now symbols and souls in a chiesa dedicated to suffrage and Purgatory.’
‘And that’s not all.’ Tom stands up and stretches.
Folding his six feet three inches into a cramped confessional hasn’t been a comfortable experience.
‘There’s the obvious connotation of the triangle. The one we haven’t mentioned.’
Valentina looks duly annoyed that she has to ask. ‘Which is?’
‘The occult one. The one Satanists protect. The pentagram. Five interlocking triangles representing the elements of earth, wind, fire and water, plus a fifth component, the supernatural spirit. It’s a symbol that has different powers according to how it’s drawn and where the spiritual segment of the triangle is located. Drawn pointing down, it is used in occult rituals to direct specific forces and energies against people. Drawn pointing upwards, it is used for protection.’
‘You learn something every day.’ Valentina throws her hands open. ‘But this leaves us where? How can I make sense out of it all?’
‘You can’t,’ says Tom. ‘We know there’s only one person who can do that.’
35
Once the photographer and CSI have been briefed, Valentina leaves the evidence-gathering at the church to a junior officer called Paulo Benchabo. A man who smells strongly of garlicky pasta and more than just the first glass of red wine.
She and Tom are about to return home when Louisa Verdetti calls her.
The medic still sounds edgy. ‘I’m sorry to trouble you, it’s just that I know you’re chasing a deadline and I have just had quite a session with Suzanna.’
Valentina traps the phone between her ear and shoulder as she zaps the Fiat open with her key fob. ‘Did she tell you what happened at the church, where the blood on her clothes came from?’
‘No. No, I’m sorry she didn’t.’ Louisa sounds stressed. ‘Listen, I don’t want to raise your hopes; this may be something or nothing. I just thought you should know what happened.’
‘Thanks.’ Valentina slips into the Punto and quickly opens the door for Tom. ‘What exactly did she say to you?’
‘It’s complicated. She became yet another personality, another alter. More riddles, I’m afraid.’
Valentina holds her head in her spare hand and jams the keys in the ignition slot. This is the last thing she wants. ‘Hold on, I’ll get a pen and paper.’
‘Better you come and see. I videoed it. This new alter manifested while I was doing a routine recording of a diagnostic session.’
Valentina starts the engine. ‘I’m on my way. I’ll be with you within the half-hour.’
Both she and Tom know that’s optimistic. The journey is less than seven kilometres, but traffic is always bad around the Piazza del Popolo and Viale del Muro Torto.
By the time they’ve battled their way through and parked, it’s closer to forty minutes.
Louisa Verdetti is alone in her office, blinds half drawn, desk lamp on. She looks up as Valentina knocks and enters. ‘ Buonasera.’ Her expression shows she’s drained.
‘ Buonasera. Doctor, this is Tom Shaman, he’s a friend and has been unofficially helping me.’
‘ Buonasera.’ Tom shakes Louisa’s hand and smiles warmly. ‘I hope you don’t mind me being here. I can wait outside if you prefer.’
That’s not what Valentina wants. ‘Tom is a former priest. He and I worked together in Venice on a serious crime case, and I can vouch for his confidentiality.’
Louisa looks too tired to argue. She waves a hand at the sofa and picks a DVD off her desk. ‘Please sit down. Let me play this for you. Would you like a drink?’
‘Just water, please,’ replies Valentina.
Tom agrees, so Louisa grabs three glasses and a bottle from off the top of a metal filing cabinet and pours the drinks. She slips the DVD into a player beneath a TV mounted on the wall and starts the recording. She studies the time code at the bottom of frame, then skips it on, until the recording starts mid-sentence.
Louisa: ‘… all right to continue, Suzanna?’
Suzanna: ‘I’m not Suzanna. Why do you call me Suzanna? Get down on the ground, quick, get down with me. Keep low!’
Louisa: ‘I’m sorry, I thought Suzanna was your name. Who are you then?’
Suzanna: ‘Claudia. I’m Claudia.’
Louisa: ‘Claudia. That’s a nice name.’
Claudia: ‘Who are you? I didn’t see you arrive. You didn’t travel with us. Are you some demon sent from the underworld to punish me?’
Louisa: ‘No. No, I’m not. Don’t be frightened. I’m here to help. You can trust me.’
Claudia: ‘Then get down flat like me; lie on your belly, or they’ll see you.’
Louisa: ‘Like this?’
Claudia: ‘Flatter. Right down, like you’re a snake.
’ Louisa: ‘My chin’s almost on the floor, Claudia, I can’t get-’
Claudia: ‘Shush. Quiet! If they hear you they’ll take both of us again.’
Louisa: ‘ Who? Who will take us?’
Claudia: ‘The soldiers over there. The ones lying like lizards on the rocks.’
Louisa: ‘I can’t see any soldiers, Claudia. Outside the door there’s a Carabinieri guard, that’s all. He’s there to protect you, not hurt you.’
Claudia: ‘How can you say that? We are at war with them. They took my sister, my friends. They killed my brother and my father. We are at war with them.’
Louisa: ‘I don’t understand. What war?’
Claudia: ‘The war that never ends between us Sabines and those pig-faced Romans. Our men have either fled, been killed or are still in battle. My brother fought for me, but a brute like that one out there came along and cut him down with his sword.’
Louisa: ‘How did you get away, Claudia? Did you run, is that how you escaped?’
Claudia: ‘No. At first, the Romans took me. They trussed me up like a lamb for slaughter, then flung me in a cart with the other Sabines. Sweet Curitis, our divine goddess, must have been protecting me. There was a battle some hours back. The soldiers had to leave our cart to fight with troops sent by Mettus. We were on low-lying land by the bend of the river near where an island floats in the great water. We could see Romans on the hills, moving around near their fires, working their lands. While the soldiers fought, another woman and I escaped from the cart. We cut our bonds on sharp rocks by the shore. We were beneath a bridge about to try to make it to the island to
