Chapter 6
The second murder was committed in the Milanese quarter of Gorla. Clarice decided to drive there at an easy pace to get a feel for the country. She liked driving the Musa though she preferred larger and more powerful cars.
The Sopraelevata Renato Serra and Sopraelevata Monte Ceneri exposed much of Milan to her due to their elevation. She passed many apartment buildings and smaller, more old-fashioned houses with slightly slanted red roofs. New buildings next to old ones. She enjoyed driving Viale Marche, she could smell the flowers even with the windows up. But after a practically non-illuminated tunnel that nearly caused her an accident, and the incomprehensible Piazzale Loreto, Clarice was glad to arrive at her destination safely. She stopped a furlong from the crime scene.
Clarice remained in her car and thought. She decided she did not want to talk to the parents yet. What she wanted to do was get to know the place. Not as an officer or ispettore, but as someone looking for something. Wanting and needing something.
She cleared her mind and opened up for first impressions by closing her eyes and concentrating on her breathing. After one minute, she got out and opened her eyes.
It was evident from the first look this was not how anybody with bad intentions would approach the house. Way too many apartment buildings overlooking the road and no less conspicuous alternative nearby. It didn't match her insight nor the facts of the file. Pissed, she got in and drove round to the other road leading to the house. She parked and needed three minutes to focus again.
This is where she walked, Clarice thought. She wasn't conscious of the fact she kept referring to the killer as a woman.
A wall and a park beyond on the left. A lot of buildings on the right, but behind trees, covering me from chance viewings.
Clarice walked in the direction of the house, and slowly it came into view.
No more trees on the right now; a fence, ten yards long, three feet high, next to the canal. Green water. No cover here, only this small separate bit of wall.
Clarice listened intensely. She heard the screaming of wheel flanges against rails; probably a train passing a railroad switch, and more train related sounds. On her other side she could hear the incessant noise of fast moving vehicles. At closer range, she discerned some radios, people screaming at each other, dogs barking. But all the time, the road she stood upon was and remained empty, as she'd expected. She turned to the house and looked at it.
Green garage door. Hey - elevator buttons? Strange...
Solid grey garden gate left of the elevator. A high wall closing off the garden from the street.
She walked along the wall and came across another grey solid garden gate, a double one this time. She considered it, then walked back to the first gate.
No. Looks like a garden gate but it isn't. Don't know where it leads though. But the double gate leads into the garden, that's for sure. Maybe this doesn't belong to the house?
Clarice saw this was not where she should be looking for clues. She walked along the garden wall again, passed the double garden gate and reached the front of the house. It was old, but well maintained. Large, but not exceptionally, she thought. A second later she corrected herself: this is Italy. So she compared it to the houses she'd seen during the drive. Soon, she noticed the difference: this one had only one front door so it belonged to one family. She had to admit: that made this a large house indeed.
It had familiar pink stucco, windows with green shutters and red slanted roofs. The front's single entrance was a sturdy double wooden door. The window above it had a small balcony.
You wouldn't use the front door. You would not be able to force it, or pick it. Why not climb the balcony and enter through the window? That lock is easy to pick.
Why didn't you climb it?
Because you couldn't reach it, right?
I can reach and climb it, but you couldn't!
Because I am long enough, and you are not.
You are only a short woman.
So, if you didn't enter here, where did you?
She walked back, following the wall until she reached the double gate.
There are streetlights, but not many - I see only one, and it's over there. This gate is bathed in darkness at night. That makes it difficult to climb, but you had to. You climbed the gate because the front is no option and the wall is too high for you. But you can climb the gate. You used the hinges for support, because you're short.
Clarice inspected the gate and noticed the hinges on the left side of the gate had less dirt and moss on them than the hinges on the other side of the gate.
Clarice smiled. She would investigate the other crime scenes keeping an open mind of course, but she knew she was on the right track. She returned to her vehicle.
When Clarice was inside the Musa again, she opened the case file and leafed through it, searching for the part concerning the second murder. As she scanned the pages, she saw her findings confirmed: the murderer had entered the house unnoticed by holding a piece of cloth to one of the small glass panes of the back door and slowly applying more and more pressure until the glass broke almost without a sound.
That's how you entered this house.
But I know why - because you're a woman, and you're small, and you're not that strong.
The file also mentioned the murderer used oleander to poison the children before butchering them. Clarice knew women use poison more often than men to commit suicide or to kill. It all fit.
Clarice took a deep breath and relaxed. This was enough for today, she told herself and decided she'd have lunch somewhere first and then return to the hotel to get her new laptop fully installed and going and add her findings to the file. [MB]
Squirrel huntin' with Daddy. She'd been begging for weeks for him to take her with him. Over the summer they'd practiced with the old .22 until she could hit at least most of the Coke cans lined up on the back fence. It pained her somthin' fierce everytime a bullet whizzed by, target untouched. But Daddy said she was doing mighty fine, and she believed him, and now she wanted to use her skills. It was early fall and the leaves were still thick on the trees. It was going to be tricky. But with two of them standing on either side of a treed squirrel, somebody was bound to get him.
She really wanted that somebody to be her, she wanted to see her father smile with pride and say again he didn't need a son because he had her. It was a comment she never tired of hearing.
This afternoon he'd finally given in. She'd been sitting on the front step reading Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. When Daddy had first approached her she thought he was going to take the book away. One teacher at school had called it naughty; Clarice had immediately checked it out from the library.
Instead he'd said, "You'd best go in and tell your mama we're havin' squirrel stew tonight." With a squeal of excitement she'd done just that.
And now she literally had a squirrel in her sight. The head, hit the head she reminded herself. Don't want to spoil the meat, or, worse yet, have a wounded squirming animal. Squeezing the trigger, she fought the urge to close her eyes. She might be a girl, but she didn't have to be girlie.
She got him!
Her exhilaration turned into something else though as she approached the little body on the forest floor. Its head was gone, and she made herself pick up her kill. She turned around to hold it up to Daddy, tryin' hard to put a smile on her face that wouldn't reveal the queasiness she was feeling.
But Daddy didn't have the look of pride she'd coveted. No. He was staring at her intensely. Like he knew she felt bad, like he liked it. Then he was smiling, all mean and toothy.
She stood there, holding the still warm body, her fingers sticky with blood. And her daddy laughed at her. He laughed at her for a long time, his head thrown back and deep guffaws coming from his belly.
Sounds converged.
Clarice realized her phone was ringing, had been for a while now. She'd returned to the hotel after grabbing a quick lunch. The events of the last twenty-four hours had caught up with her, a heaviness in both her body and mind. She'd spread out across the bed and must have fallen asleep.
Reaching for her phone she saw Alessandro's name displayed.
Voice groggy with sleep she greeted him, "Hi Alessandro."
"Clarice? You sound sleepy. Did I wake you?"
"Yup, but believe me, I'm glad you did. I owe you one." A few beats of silence from him. She figured he was debating whether or not to ask about her dream. Transcripts of her conversations with Lecter were basically public record at this point; nothing like your most haunting childhood nightmare laid bare for strangers to prod.
Alessandro chose the better part of valor.
"I'm sorry about our meeting earlier. We weren't supposed to have a department meeting today, but some things came up." Another pause, then "What are your plans for this evening?"
Clarice was still lying down. She felt dirty, like she needed to wash her hands. The sun was quickly setting, casting much of the room in shadows. She also felt like turning on some lights.
Maybe it wasn't appropriate, but she didn't want to be alone.
"Well, Alessandro. I think I'm having dinner with you." [D]