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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 СКАЧАТЬ