God, he must have lost twenty pounds. A grimace of pain appears on his sister's face, I ignore it and gently make my way to the bedside.
"Hi Roberto, how are you, do you recognize me? I'm Davide."
I slowly enunciate the words.
I manage to shake him out of his state. He turns his head, looks at me for a second and then, as if to say and who cares, goes back to silently staring at the wall that is probably more interesting than my words. I throw a half smile at Sara trying to reassure her. I have to find something that really gets her attention, even if it means destroying the damn wall with a spade!
"You need to hurry up and get yourself together, otherwise the gorgeous girl you met will pick someone else to have fun with. What did you say her name was? Giulia?"
It would be a miracle if I got her name right immediately. In fact, she doesn't respond. I turn the wheel and try again.
"... no, no. Now I seem to remember: Francesca?"
The most common female names throughout the peninsula. Nothing, this doesn't work either. It is useless to continue on this path. I try to touch his arm to shake him, but with a cold look he makes me understand that it is not even the case to touch it. I am more than a little embarrassed. I don't know what to do and I understand his sister's state of anxiety. Heck, now I'm seriously worried too.
"Sniff! Sniff!" What is she doing, sniffing me?
My God, this has reached the end of the line.
"You! You've met her!"
Okay, I managed to get him talking, or rambling....
"Met who? Maybe, Roberto, you're referring to that girl you were telling me about?"
"You've been with her! You, you touched her, you touched her, you touched her..." He continues obsessively, in a frenzy. What is he saying? I have to calm him down.
"No, trust me, I swear...I've never seen her."
Oh my God! He's shaking. Sara looks at me hallucinating. If she keeps this up, ten to one she'll burst into tears....
"Enough David...now leave the room..., please!" That's it, exactly: a flood of tears.
My heart clenches at that plea.
"Yes, of course. I'll be right out."
I get out of bed and look resignedly at my friend.
"Get well soon..."
A barely whispered phrase, who knows if he heard me.
With my hand I make a sign to Sara.
"I'll wait for you outside, I need to talk to you." Nodding, she gently strokes her brother to calm him down.
Minutes pass and I try to reorganize my few confused ideas.
Sara walks out of the room and wipes her eyes, now contoured by a black halo of loose makeup. I get up and walk towards her. She looks soothed again.
"I'm sorry if I was a little abrupt earlier, it's just..."
"Don't worry, it's okay."
In her shoes, I might have even been less diplomatic.
"I wanted to ask you something." I take time to phrase the request in a way that doesn't give her false hope.
"Here, I was wondering if you could give me the keys to his apartment...you know, I have some ideas to try to figure out what happened." I nip her question in the bud.
"It's nothing concrete, I'd just like to take a look on her computer, maybe I'll find something interesting."
Her facial muscles relax. I convince her.
"Yes, that's fine. But please, whatever you find out, you'll have to let me know right away." Depends.
"Of course, of course!" Categorical as a maybe.
Six more floors to walk: freaking elevator!
I pick up the set of keys Sara gave me. I weigh it: it's going to be a pound! With all these key chains attached, it looks more like a defensive weapon.
Sixth attempt: I finally guessed the right key. I open the door and enter. Pitch darkness.
I turn on the light and...god what a mess! The last time I went in, I hadn't noticed that Roberto was so messy. Wait a minute, the laundry is fine, but the shards on the floor of the lamp really seem excessive. After all, the way he looked, he may have been so sick he couldn't make it to clean up. I can smell a nauseating odour, maybe it would be better to open the windows and let it air out.
I have to remember to tell Sara to come and clean up: this house is really pitiful!
Here's the computer, I turn it on. Luckily no password, blessed ingenuity.
Let's see if there's something interesting in the documents folder.
Nothing. Okay, go with Internet Explorer, I doubt he has Firefox or Chrome installed or familiar with it anyway.
Let's check the history: anthology of witchcraft, necromancy, demonology... but what the heck kind of sites does he visit? He's completely nuts. I wonder if I can find anything useful.
Got it! Here's what I've been looking for, at least I hope so: Chat the spirits.
With a little luck I might find someone and chat with them.
It's as deserted as a cemetery, just to stay on topic. I'd say wait until later, maybe someone will connect. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to do a thorough scan of your computer's hard drive. I realize it's like violating a person's privacy, but it's necessary if I want to find a minimum of information.
The grinder takes its time. I focus my attention on a folder with a strange name: Black Moon, could it be a collection of daring photos? Let's check the contents.
It contains dozens of written documents, it looks like material downloaded from those strange sites.
Beep! Each image suddenly disappears from the monitor.
"Beep? What do you mean, beep? The power had to go out right now?"
All right, don't panic. I take advantage of the pause and take a tour of the house. The bedroom. Let's see if there are any diaries with phone numbers in the bedside table.
It's full of strange knick-knacks: a white candle and a black one: both used, an embroidered ribbon, bells, a mirror and this strange dust, what is it? Sniff! It smells like incense.
But yes! That's what the smell was when I walked in: incense!
I wish someone would explain to me if it's normal to have such items in the nightstand! Thinking back, though, I seem to remember something I read a while back about it... something that had to do with these materials for some pagan ritual.
Let's venture a hypothesis: the nutcase, that is Roberto, out of the blue and for an arcane and unknown reason, begins to be interested in esotericism, he knows some crazy people in a chat room that induce him to perform strange rituals and take mysterious hallucinogenic substances that reduce him to a rag.
This might be the best theory to unravel the whole thing, or almost. The strange note lies in the fact that doctors did not find any particular substances in his blood. Could it be that he used drugs so sophisticated that they couldn't be detected so easily, because they were expelled through bleeding? It would take a chemist, and I, unfortunately, am a simple insurance man.
I'm starting to get hungry, a nice pizza would be nice while waiting for midnight, if the power comes back on.
Beep! The computer turns back on along with the lights in the room.
Fantastic! Apparently in this house you just have to want things.
Six more goddamn floors on foot! If I had thought of it sooner, I would have fasted. At least I digested the pizza.
I catapult myself onto the couch. The day has been