‘Habitually it was a sort of human sacrifice dedicated to the soul of a high-ranking person who had died. The rite has very ancient roots and was performed by diverse civilizations. Even the Greeks, in the most archaic age. Do you remember the
‘A little, here and there. I haven’t read it since high school,’ said Reggiani, certain that the professor was about to give him a lecture on classical culture.
‘You must certainly recall the funeral games honouring Patroclus, including a sword fight between two men. The referee, who is Achilles in this case, interrupts the combat at first blood. But it’s thought that in more ancient cultures the duellers were forced to fight on until one of them died, so that his soul could accompany into the afterlife the dead person for whom funeral rites were being celebrated. In later ages, these duels were purged of their bloodier components and became purely athletic competitions, converging in great sporting and religious performances like the Olympics. In Italy, on the other hand, the duels maintained their violent connotations and evolved into the gladiator fights of the Roman age.’
‘I had no idea,’ admitted Reggiani. ‘So the origins of Roman combat in the arena were Etruscan?’
‘Most probably. But, as I said, it started out as a religious rite, as far-fetched as that may seem to us now. Human sacrifice was a way of appeasing the gods. Usually a prisoner of war would be forced to fight against a wild animal, or more than one, under conditions which doomed him to lose.
‘But what I’ve found evidence of here makes me hypothesize an even more cruel variant. I think that when the crime committed was beyond the pale, a real monstrosity, a horrible act that broke the laws of man and nature, the community would be seized by a kind of collective panic, fearing that the gods would not be satisfied with the sacrifice of a single life to atone for such horror and would seek to punish the whole community.
‘The natural solution would be to execute the guilty party by subjecting him to the most tremendous torture. But what would happen if, let’s say, the person accused of this horrendous crime declared himself innocent and that there was no definitive evidence to prove his guilt. In that case, he would be subjected to a trial by ordeal. He would be given a sword, but one hand would be tied behind his back and his head would be enclosed in a sack. Thus disabled, he would be made to fight off a ferocious animal: a wolf, or even a lion. If he managed to survive, that meant he was innocent and he could return to his everyday life, with his prior rank and rights. If he died, the beast that had killed him would be buried along with his body so it could continue to torment him for all eternity. That’s what I think I see in this photograph,’ concluded Fabrizio, replacing it in the drawer.
‘What a nightmare,’ commented Reggiani. ‘I’ve never heard of such a thing. I have no doubt you’re right about the photo. And you know, it makes me think twice about these gruesome murders. Now that I’ve heard this story, it almost seems that someone may be re-enacting this ancient ritual…’
‘Seems that way to me too,’ admitted Fabrizio.
‘Let’s say someone who learned about this discovery and got it into his head to act it out…’
‘I can see what you’re saying, but for what reason? I don’t get the motive.’
‘No, you’re right,’ agreed Reggiani. ‘And Ronchetti’s body was found before you opened the tomb.’
‘So we’re back where we started.’
Lieutenant Reggiani bit his lower lip. ‘As a matter of principle, I can only consider hypotheses that are rational, caused by a natural sequence of events.’
‘Do you think I was suggesting otherwise?’
‘No, of course not. But why did you show me that fang then? You know it belongs to an animal that died twenty-four centuries ago, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘I don’t know why I pulled it out. I did it without thinking.’
Reggiani held out his hand and Fabrizio put the fang in his palm.
‘You know,’ the officer continued, fingering the oversized tooth, ‘when you showed me this, I was reminded of something I saw on television a few days ago. It was in one of those nature programmes. They were showing the skull of a southern African hominid with two strange indentations at the top. No one had been able to interpret the marks until they found the skull of a predator from that age, whose top canines were a perfect match for the indentations.’ He held out the fang. ‘Can I keep this for twenty-four hours?’ he asked.
Fabrizio shrugged. ‘No, not really, but what the hell? If I can’t trust a carabiniere, who can I trust?’ Then he added, ‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘Show it to a friend.’
‘All right. But be sure you give it back to me tomorrow. My colleague will be coming from Bologna and she’ll be examining the skeleton. I don’t want her to find anything missing.’
‘You bet,’ the officer promised. He was about to put his cap back on, when Fabrizio remembered that threatening voice on the telephone and thought it would be best to let the police know.
‘Listen, there’s something I wanted to mention…’ he began.
Just then, someone knocked at the door.
It was Francesca. ‘Good morning, Lieutenant,’ she said to Reggiani, before turning to Fabrizio. ‘The director is in his office. He wants to talk to you.’
‘I’m coming,’ said Fabrizio, getting up.
‘Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?’ asked Lieutenant Reggiani.
‘No, it doesn’t matter,’ replied Fabrizio. ‘Some other time.’
‘As you like. Goodbye, Dr Castellani.’
‘Goodbye, Lieutenant. And… don’t forget.’
‘Not to worry. You’ll have it back tomorrow.’ He placed his cap on his head and walked away down the hall.
‘What’s he talking about?’ asked Francesca.
‘Nothing. Just something I lent him. Do you have any idea what Balestra wants?’
‘That doesn’t take much guesswork. You’ve just excavated an intact late-fourth-century tomb, haven’t you?’
‘Right. Now that you mention it, it’s strange it took him so long to start looking for me.’
‘He’s been out.’
‘Where?’
‘He didn’t say. At the ministry maybe. Who knows?’
They had reached the director’s office. Francesca waved him towards the door with her hand and walked away. Fabrizio knocked.
‘Come in,’ replied Balestra’s voice from inside.
‘It must seem impossible,’ began the director before Fabrizio had even taken a seat, ‘but with a dig this important in progress, I haven’t been able to find a moment to touch base with you.’
I’d love to know why, thought Fabrizio. Out loud, he commiserated: ‘I can imagine. So many things clamouring for your attention at once.’
Balestra took half of a Tuscan cigar from a box and put it in his mouth. ‘No, don’t worry,’ he said instantly, seeing the look on Fabrizio’s face. ‘I don’t smoke them. So, from what I hear, the Rovaio tomb was completely inviolate. Is that true?’
‘That’s right, sir.’
Why so grim, then? What you’re saying is extraordinary.’
Well, the things that have happened since that tomb was discovered would dampen anyone’s enthusiasm.’
Balestra scowled. ‘I can’t say I blame you. I was told you’ve just been speaking to that carabiniere lieutenant.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘In any case, I’m looking forward to hearing exactly what you found. You can follow up with a written report at your convenience. I also want you to know that, as far as I am concerned, you can publish this on your own, if you like.’
Fabrizio expressed his appreciation for the opportunity, but politely declined. ‘I’m honoured, director, but I really don’t think it’s my place, and besides, I already have my own research to take forward. I’ve limited my work to documenting the find and ensuring that the contents of the tomb are secure.’
‘I insist that you publish at least a part of the findings, or at least sign the article with me, if you prefer. Let’s hear, then, exactly how things have unfolded.’
