Spider - Michael Morley [40]
Necrophile
Death was just the start of the killer’s turn-on.
27
Siena, Tuscany
Jack’s heart sank as his train arrived in Siena. The station was swarming with tourists and he suddenly remembered why: it was Palio day.
Jack and Nancy had never been to the famous Palio alla Tonda horse race through the streets of the city, but they’d heard all about it. Paolo had urged them to go, but Carlo, their quiet and far more conservative hotel manager, had begged them not to. The differing opinions pretty much coincided with how most of Italy viewed the controversial and highly dangerous spectacle. Some people loved the sense of tradition. It dated back to the mid seventeenth century and had historic echoes of the traditional Roman games of archery, fighting and racing. Others simply hated the fact that the horses often got badly injured and sometimes even had to be destroyed. Carlo had told them that years earlier one of the ten competing horses, each representing a local ward, fell and was trampled to death while the race was allowed to carry on. After that, he vowed he would never let his family watch the Palio again.
Outside the station, Jack could already hear the clop of horses’ hooves as several members of the carabinieri trotted past. He guessed they were heading off for a rehearsal of the dramatic sword-wielding charge that they would stage in the pageant at the Piazza del Campo. Jack could also spot bookmakers on the pavements, pocketing fistfuls of euros as the betting built up for the big event.
With traffic virtually banned from the entire city, getting a taxi was even more difficult and pricey than usual. Finally, Jack collapsed into the back of an old Renault Megane that seemed to be missing certain luxuries, such as rear suspension or a window that would roll down. Somewhere on the outskirts of Siena he fell asleep and was pleasantly surprised to wake as the taxi pulled up noisily on the gravel outside La Casa Strada in San Quirico.
As they rounded the side of the hotel, his heart lifted when little Zack clambered off his pedal trike and dashed towards him with open arms, shouting, ‘Daddy, Daddy!’
‘Hello, tiger, come here and give your old man a kiss,’ said Jack, sweeping the toddler up into his arms and kissing his beautifully smooth face. ‘You been good for Mommy?’ he asked, walking towards Nancy, who was sitting on the patio with paperwork spread out over a metal garden table.
‘Hi there, stranger,’ she called from her chair, holding down some papers as a surprise gust of wind threatened to blow them away.
‘Hi, hon,’ said Jack, bending down to kiss her, Zack still tucked under his right arm, as though he were a football.
‘Down, Daddy, down!’ urged the youngster.
‘How was the train?’ asked Nancy, slipping off her sunglasses to take a closer look at him.
Jack swung his son down and felt a warm glow as he watched the youngster dash back to his trike. He sat on the chair opposite his wife, tucking the plastic bags containing her presents surreptitiously beneath his seat. ‘Palio day in Siena. It was so crazy there; I had to walk miles to get a cab.’ He pinched an olive from a round, white dish on the table. ‘I know what Carlo said, but I think I’d like to go see it some day.’
‘Maybe,’ said Nancy cautiously. Her mind was on other things. ‘What about the case? You done with it? Everything finished? Or is that too much to hope for?’
Jack let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. ‘Sheeesh, Nancy, am I that easy to read?’
She nodded.
‘They’ve got something they really want me to look at.’
Nancy frowned. ‘That girl, Olivetta, or whatever her name is?’
‘Orsetta,’ he said, noting her sensitivity. ‘No, not her, Massimo.’
Nancy’s eyes lit up a little. ‘You spoke to Mass? He say how Benny and the kids are?’
‘No, we didn’t have time to talk about that,’ said Jack, remembering how well Nancy and Mass’s wife Benedetta had got on when they’d met in Rome. Benny had shown her all the tourist sites, while he and Mass worked long