AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The victim on the beach: the murderer was close.
The victim at the hotel: the murderer was far away.
Therefore, the next crime will be committed with the murderer at his victim's side, or, rather, that will be his plan, unless he's arrested in the next half hour. He learned all this from his colleagues at the police station, who gave him the information as if it were of no importance. And Savoy, in turn, had initially dismissed it as irrelevant too, but, of course, it wasn't; it was the missing link, the vital clue, the one piece needed to complete the puzzle.
His heart is pounding. He's dreamed of this all his life and cannot wait for this interminable meeting to end.
"Are you listening?"
"Yes, sir."
"Look, the people out there aren't expecting some official, technical statement, with precise answers to their questions. The fact is they'll do all they can to make us say what they want to hear, but we mustn't fall into that trap. They came here not to listen to us, but to look at us, and for their viewers and readers to be able to see us too."
He regards Savoy with a superior air, as if he were the most knowledgeable person on the planet. It would seem that Morris and the pathologist are not the only ones who like to show off their knowledge, well, everyone has their own way of saying: "I know my job."
"Think visual, by which I mean, remember that your face and body say more than words. Look straight ahead, keep your head up, and your shoulders down and slightly back. Raised shoulders mean tension and are a sure indication that we have no idea what is going on."
"Yes, sir."
THEY WALK OUT TO THE entrance of the Institute of Legal Medicine. Lights come on, microphones are thrust forward, people start to push. After a few minutes, this apparent disorder becomes more orderly. The commissioner takes the piece of paper out of his pocket.
"The actor was killed with hydrogen cyanide, a deadly poison that can be administered in various ways, although in this case it was used in the form of a gas. The film director survived the attack. His involvement was clearly accidental. He merely happened to enter the room while there were still remnants of the gas in the air. The CCTV footage shows a man walking down the corridor, going into one of the rooms, and, five minutes later, coming out again and falling to the floor."
He omits to say that the room in question is not actually visible to the camera. Omission is no lie.
"The security personnel took swift action and sent for a doctor, who immediately noticed the smell of almonds, which was, by then, too dilute to cause any harm. The police were called, and they arrived at the scene less than five minutes later and cordoned off the area. An ambulance came, and the doctors used oxygen to save the director's life."
Savoy is beginning to feel really impressed by the commissioner's easy manner. He wonders if all commissioners have to do a course in public relations.
"The poison was delivered in an envelope, but we have not as yet been able to establish whether the writing on the envelope was that of a man or a woman. Inside was a piece of paper."
He fails to mention that the technology used to seal the envelope was highly sophisticated. There was a chance in a million that one of the journalists present would know this, although, later on, that kind of question would become inevitable. He also fails to mention that another man in the film industry had been poisoned that same afternoon. Apparently, everyone thinks he died of a heart attack, although no one has actually told them this. Sometimes it's handy if the press--out of laziness or inattention--draw their own conclusions without bothering the police.
"What was on the paper?" is the first question.
The commissioner explains that he cannot reveal this now because doing so might hamper the investigation. Savoy is beginning to see the direction in which he's leading this interview and is filled with admiration; he really deserves his post as commissioner.
"Could it have been a crime of passion?" asks someone else.
"Anything is possible at the moment. Now, if you'll excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, we must get back to work."
He gets into his car, turns on the siren, and speeds away. Savoy walks to his own vehicle, feeling very proud of his boss. How amazing! He can imagine the headlines already: "Star thought to have been victim of crime of passion."
That was sure to capture people's interest. The power of celebrity was so great that the other murders would go unnoticed. Who cares about a poor young girl, who died possibly under the influence of drugs and was found on a bench near the beach? What did it matter if some henna-haired film distributor had a heart attack over lunch? What was there to say about a murder--another crime of passion--involving two complete nonentities who were never in the spotlight, on a beach away from all the hurly-burly of the Festival? It was the kind of thing that appeared every night on the television news
, but the media would only continue speculating about it if a Major Celebrity was involved! And an envelope! And a piece of paper inside on which something was written!
He turns on the siren and drives in the opposite direction from the police station. In order not to raise suspicions, he uses the car radio. He finds the commissioner's frequency.
"Congratulations!"
The commissioner is also rather pleased with himself. They've gained a few hours, possibly days, but they both know that they're dealing with a serial killer of the male sex, well-dressed, with graying hair and about forty years old, and armed with sophisticated weapons. A man who is also experienced in the art of killing, and while he may be satisfied with the crimes he's already committed, he could easily strike again, at any moment.
"Have officers sent to all the Festival parties," orders the commissioner. "They should look out for any men on their own who correspond to that description. Tell them to keep any suspects under surveillance. Call for reinforcements. I want plainclothes policemen, discreetly dressed and in keeping with their surroundings--either jeans or evening dress. And I repeat, I want them at all the parties, even if we have to mobilize the traffic police as well."
Savoy immediately does as he is told. He has just received a message on his mobile phone. Europol needs more time to track down the laboratories, at least three days.
"Let me have that in writing, will you? I don't want to be held responsible if something else goes wrong here."
