Chapter 10 #2
“Criminals think alike in many languages,” Grant murmured.
“That they do,” Sal agreed.
They drove and drove. Nothing fitting the description of the car that had been seen when the shooting had occurred appeared anywhere they went.
“The streets of Rome are a true puzzle, ancient and rambling and ever so many weird little alleys here and there. Of course, there are garages where someone could have driven in before any of us was close enough to see them do it,” Sal said.
“I’m still stunned at another murder, at another curse tablet.
And now”—he paused—“apparently, someone knows we’re on to them, or more specifically, that you’re on to them,” Alfredo said, glancing back at Shelly and Grant.
“That shot rang out the minute I opened the door,” Shelly reminded them. “It could have been any one of us in the lead. Or just someone there to work the crime scene.”
“True, but …” Sal said, glancing over at his partner. “Since we’re all fine, such an attack might have been a good thing. It might mean that we’re close to something.”
“Either that, or … hmm, maybe someone is coming up with ancient curse tablets for all of us!” Alfredo told him.
Sal groaned. “We’ve got to get to the bottom of this!”
“Maybe Armand will have come up with something for us,” Shelly said.
“Maybe. Let’s get to your little headquarters house,” Sal said. “And read that latest ‘tablet,’ find out if it’s in English or Italian and just what it has to say!”
“Great. But do you need to take it to—”
“Our lab? We will,” Sal told him. “But first we’ll look at it ourselves.”
Sal looked around as they exited the car. They reached the house and entered with no further startling events.
There were no people walking around the area, nor were there any cars to be seen. “Well, great, we’ll all have to watch our backs every time we come in or out from anywhere,” Alfredo muttered.
“Ancient tablets, ancient Rome …” Sal murmured as Shelly and Grant made sure they were all supplied with gloves, that the table was clean, with a clear sheet of plastic on it where they could examine the tablet.
“This one is rolled, just like the ancient tablets, but … well, there’s so much misconception regarding ancient Rome!” Alfredo said, giving his head a small shake. “‘Nero fiddled while Rome burned!’ for one!”
Grant laughed. “And the fiddle didn’t come about until medieval days?” he asked.
“Yeah, some of the stories at least have him playing his harp while Rome burned. But he wasn’t even in Rome when the fire started.
Was the man a monster? Possibly. He was accused of every vile thing a man could do.
But according to more trusted and contemporary sources, he sobbed while watching the city burn from the top of a wall. ”
“Legends make for intriguing stories as the years roll along,” Shelly said.
“In 64 AD, the city was all but destroyed, but history also teaches us resiliency, because Rome is massive again today! Few places are so amazing … I mean, a satellite view must show the immense concentration of the buildings and the streets and alleys and …” She broke off, looking over at Grant.
She smiled. “And of course, all the ways a car could disappear while it’s being followed by half a dozen patrol cars. ”
“Ancient cities give way to ancient human machinations,” Grant murmured.
“Ah,” Shelly said, glancing at him briefly before taking the chair that allowed her to do her best to delicately unroll the tablet.
“But then again, a satellite could show all the amazing places to visit! And,” she added, speaking while she gently picked up a pair of tweezers to work on the tablet, “I keep thinking that we have so many stories about Plymouth Rock and the Massachusetts Bay Colony, but your home, St. Augustine, is really rather the Rome of the United States.”
“It’s a great city, too,” Sal agreed. “But, onward. What say you on this curse tablet, my friend?” he queried, before adding safely, “I don’t mean to rush you. We wouldn’t have found it without you.”
The tablet unrolled beneath her slow and careful work. And there it was, words etched into the metal.
“English!” Sal exclaimed.
And the words were in English. A curse, this one directed to the Greek god Hermes.
“‘For the words you say, give heed, you will pay, death for all you have done to cause dismay,’” Grant read. “Well, our guy likes to think he’s a poet. In English and Italian. Except I don’t think that it’s just one guy, though—”
“There’s a leader. And there may well be women involved, too,” Shelly reminded them.
“Do you think it’s possible we just might get fingerprints off of this?” Shelly asked.
“I’ve watched you, of course,” Sal said. “If there are fingerprints, our lab will get them. If we can just—”
“I have an evidence bag that will protect it well. I won’t need to move the plastic or anything. You can get it to your people in great shape,” Grant assured him.
“I know. We saw you handle the last one,” Sal said. “So … thanks!”
Grant procured the bag that would contain the “evidence,” but since Shelly’s hands were gloved, she set it in place for Sal.
“Now that we know what it says, we’ll get it to the lab,” Alfredo told them. “It’s been a long day. I guess none of us has realized how long. After all, visiting a murder site takes time, and then driving around …”
“But Armand hasn’t gotten back to us?” Shelly asked.
“I’ll give him a call,” Alfredo said, and he walked across the room to do so. As they watched, he listened and nodded.
After a minute, he ended the call and turned to them, explaining, “Naturally, he heard about the new murder. That threw him off. But he promises he’ll have something for us by morning.
I’ve also given him your contact information if, by any chance, he comes up with something sooner, or if he feels you may advise him further, if he finds something that might be nothing or might be something.
” He glanced at his watch. “It’s seven. I need to get food. ”
“We can fix something here—”
“We need a break,” Sal said. “A way to clear our heads a bit. You two feel free to drive each other crazy with ideas all night. We have the city searching for the shooter’s car, so if anything breaks on that, of course, we’ll let you know immediately.”
“Of course. Watch it as you leave,” Grant said. He headed to one of the windows, moved the drape just a bit, and looked out.
Shelly thought Jackson Crow or Adam Harrison or both had done a great job with the house; it was a place that just fit perfectly with everything around it.
Most importantly, the street was well lit.
“Appears clear,” Grant said.
“Buonasera!” Alfredo told them.
“For me, buonanotte!” Sal said. “I need sleep!”
“Rest well, my friends,” Shelly told them.
Then the two were gone. Grant watched through the window until they were in the car and had driven down the street.
Then he turned to her. “Well. I guess we should eat. Let’s see—”
She laughed. “Even in Italy, this haven of delicious food, they have frozen dinners! I think I saw a few choices in the freezer.”
“We’ll dig ’em out,” Grant said, shrugging. “Unless … unless you want to go out tonight and find something somewhere.”
“No! I’m quite happy to stay right here. But we’re not digging anything out or doing anything else at all. Not until you talk to me!” Shelly said.
“Oh, yeah, of course, now that other ears have departed. I got something, and I got nothing.”
“Okay?” she persisted.
“Weird. He was in his chair, watching the television. His door opened; he didn’t know how. He could swear that he’d locked it. But he might not have, or …”
“Or the killer knew him, had been around him, and managed to copy his key or … I forget, what kind of a lock?”
“Code key,” Grant said. “And whoever got in knew his code.”
“Did he keep it written down anywhere?” Shelly asked. “Was it a birthday, something someone could guess easily? Perhaps someone attempted before, when he was out?”
“He didn’t remain long enough for me to get too much.
You must know that his soul chose to move on.
All I learned was he was sitting in his chair, his door opened—and a massive black shadow came at him.
He dropped his paper, started to rise, but the killer had that blade out.
And before he knew it, blood was spurting out of his throat. ”
“A large black shadow. So, we have a large black shadow and someone in a mask and baseball cap. Nothing to recognize anyone by if the killers are, indeed, the same person,” Shelly murmured.
“Hired by the same company, one way or the other,” Grant told her. “Dead—along with a really well-done curse tablet.”
“All right, we’re looking at people who are just hateful, I guess.
People who don’t like a certain politician, or a certain journalist—or anyone who has a different opinion.
And while we’re well past it now, I think that …
well, during the pandemic, people were isolated.
All communication was done through calls, emails, video, social media.
So, we’ve come up to today, to a point where people can still hide in a certain anonymity.
And maybe many people believe they’re justified in cursing someone who they see as a person who has a different opinion, different values and …
maybe the people out there doing the hiring think that they are just cursing someone and that—miraculously—all the powers that be agree with them, and the curse is really the thing that is bringing about the deaths.
They may not see themselves as murderers, because they may really believe that whatever gods, goddesses, or magic they’re touching upon agree with them. But—”
“But there is someone out there making money off the idiots who believe in this kind of thing?” Grant asked.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I think you’re spot-on. And I hope we get something from Armand. One of us can start up the microwave, and the other can call Zach or Skye and find out if they’re getting anywhere. I’m sure they’ve heard about another murder here—”