I knew,” concluded Morris adjusting a few candelabras, while dusting the countertop. He was a hard worker. Isabel sensed a shiver of fear in hearing Morris’s rusty voice resonating…strongly grabbing Claudio’s hands as a sign of protection and trust. He glanced at Isabel reassuring her, feeling after a long time in control of the situation. He muttered: “I am not sure about the other killings, and I will continue to search for the truth. My sister in Rome knows some people who were close to Larry.”
The smell of frankincense shrouded the church.
Morris escorted the couple outside the entryway and wished them good luck while gazing at them from a distance. He then said loudly, “Father Larry used to say that only when dusk is falling one can discern the truth.”
“That Morris guy is strange! Something atypical was in the church, start- ing with that incense. They use it only when performing funerals or sometimes special celebrations, and yet no one was there,” criticized Claudio, whereas Isabel surveyed, “You know what…if Morris confessed his secrets to Larry before he was killed. He could claim the secret of confession.” After a brief hiatus, Claudio said, “I never thought about that, Isabel!”
It was a possibility neglected by many.
After leaving the churchyard, Claudio drove along Marine Drive, gazing at the ocean. Isabel sighed, coddled by the romantic view. “What did your sister tell you about Larry Murphy, any news lover boy!” He swiftly glanced at her, glinting, “Lover boy! Ha! That is funny.” Isabel lowered the radio volume.
“My sister informed me that Father Armando Suarez will spend two weeks’ holiday back home, in Spain. He is following Larry’s case, trying to sift through his past life. She speculated that perhaps Larry’s death is a mere coincidence, a botched robbery.”
“Could be right, do you not think?” Claudio frowned “Do not forget! Police found diverse remains up there,” Isabel countered, “One more reason to suspect a random accident.”
A vibration distracted the couple. “Is it your phone, Claudio?”
“I am driving. It could be my father.” Isabel rushed, “It says Laura! What should I do?”
“Put her on the speakerphone, please, and pretend you are not here, Isabel.”
A brief hiatus allowed the communication to settle, while a delayed voice burst from the speakers. “Claudio! Are you busy? Can you hear me?” Laura puffed and grunted, membrane vibrating. “Yes, I can hear you, but the communication is not good. I am driving right now, I am alone.”
Laura faltered, “Alone! Why do you punctuate? I think you are not alone, smart boy. Do not tease me, please.” When Claudio swore to be the only one in the vehicle, Isabel gestured with a sign of discontent.
Claudio knew that his sister could read his mind. Laura was holding the receiver with her right hand, placing the left on her side… head bent slightly. “Are you there? I cannot hear you anymore, Claudio!”
Communication broke down, and the day ended quickly.
Fall was one of the most colorful seasons in British Columbia. Trees were painted with a myriad of different colors…modifying within the scattered shards of the sun rays. Leaves were changing in the mirror of a kaleidoscope, in their varied and subliminally engraved geometric shapes. Claudio was striding with Leon between Granville and Laburnum Streets, along an array of lush trees, donating warm radiant colors. Leon was sniffing with his wet nose, pointing upwards, capturing the fragrant scents of the pictured leaflets. He closed his eyes, falling in a state of unconsciousness, snatched by the smell of the forgotten past.
Claudio thought of places of never-ending radiant tales, like the one he was living in Vancouver. He let go of the leash, releasing his trapped mind and Leon’s freedom of love. Claudio opened his pupils, admiring the slow-motion running of Leon…a riding, diving in the mystery of life’s free will. Leon’s head turned, showing a proud, strong, protective face, while the autumn was leaving with its charming colorful poetries, abandoning the dark dead tone of cold melancholy.
Nature was emitting its peculiar love.
“ Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a dark forest.” Dante Alighieri
CHAPTER VIII
Detectives
PART I
One week before Christmas Laura contacted her father, “How is my little brother doing? I need to hear your opinion.” Giacomo in a puff of contentment exclaimed: “A little bit better if left
alone. He is now interested in this obscure case, the novelty of the year. My personal detective…”
Laura directed, “Be patient old man, he will find his path and tranquility sooner or later. Where is he? Last time we spoke he was driving, and the communication died.”
Her father defined, “He was speaking with your cousin Michael before you called…and left.”
Laura enquired, “How is the situation there, any news about Larry Murphy’s homicide?”
“I am not really concerned about it. Since Larry was killed, no other people were found dead. Those remains are antecedent. I think it was an attempt to rob him, or something like that.”
“I do not like this, papà. Long hiatuses are always a sign of deceit and ambiguity. Remember that after long hiatuses always followed more victims.”
He didn’t seem to agree with that, dismissing Laura soon after.
The investigation was covered by a shimmering blanket of snow, shroud- ing all the fuss in a momentary soft slumber. 2017 brought a nice winter, and the ski resorts of Vancouver were sold out. Claudio and his friends went skiing. They spent the afternoon on the mountain, dining at the lodge. From the peak, Vancouver resembled a Christmas tree, adorned by the city lights and the Lions Gate illumination, reflected in the ocean.
Michael took a break, removing his gloves with his teeth. He desired to take a picture. “Look at the view guys, fantastic! The ocean inlet is reflecting the snow, creating a whitewater pool of mystical poetry.”
Claudio’s eyes were cold and blurred. He was admiring the landscape when a shadowy image lured his attention. The opaque figure was moving on the left side of the ravine where the group was standing. An amorphous, crooked-like female was slowly walking in distortion, as if injured. Claudio noticed the high snow opening while she was passing in between, dressed in a grimy white robe displaying long greasy hair. He neared, stand- ing against the safety fence, and before the misshapen creature disappeared behind a pine tree, he noticed some roots sliding over her legs. He saw her bulging neck, which gave him the creeps. He was going to lure his friends’ attention, when he distinguished a second figure chasing the previous one. A little girl paraded before his astonished eyes. She appeared candidly dressed in a white robe, waving her glinting hair. She turned for a moment, as if sensing Claudio’s presence. In her hands were concealed a red rose, a bloody rose. The girl lost her grasp, clutching the flower a moment before it dived into the snow. She smiled at Claudio, vanishing into the woods.
Claudio stood up, moving briskly along the fence. “Hey guys, did you see those women down the ravine? They are lost, I think. A little girl was chasing her mother.”
Isabel kept looking, “Where are they? I do not see anyone there…it is so dark. Are you sure? Perhaps wild animals…”
Claudio reluctantly answered, “Are you kidding me, Isabel! I am not out of my mind yet. I saw two people down the ravine.”
Michael intervened to solve the debate: “Snowshoeing my friend! There are trails for that, and one is just where you pointed your finger.”
The group split, sliding along the diverse slopes, while Claudio remained with Isabel on the hill. She was ready to go when Claudio yelled once again, “Isabel, look! There she is! Look now.”