She puts a hand on his back. 'I don't know what happened. I'm sorry.'
Teucer removes the fresh wood that has failed to burn. He puts his hand to the ash. It is cold. Several hours have passed since it felt the comfort of flames.
The fire is dead.
It is an omen – a dark one. Such disrespect and neglect for a deity inside the home will be punished, they can be sure of it.
CAPITOLO VI
A new day brings a new dawn and a new fire in Teucer's hearth.
But not a new start.
Today, he and Tetia did not sit together and watch the sunrise. They did not even sleep together last night. Instead the netsvis tended the flames, feeding wood into the deity's hungry hearth, hoping for forgiveness, struggling with dark thoughts.
He looks across at his wife as she sleeps in the skins that cover their bed. Her long black hair is spread out like the damaged wings of a fallen raven. Her peacefulness draws him to her and reminds him of their love. He places more kindling on the fire and walks over to the bed. He slips in beside her and holds her from behind. His hands touch her bloated stomach. He fights back a wave of repulsion and resists the urge to move them. 'Tetia, Tetia, are you awake?' She sleepily murmurs something in response. 'I need to talk to you.'
Her eyes stay closed. 'What?'
Teucer moves one hand and strokes hair from her face. 'Tell me – I won't be angry – is the child mine?'
She can't help but flinch. 'It is yours. It is mine. And it is ours.' She pulls away from his hand.
'That's not what I asked. You know what I meant.' He hears her sigh. 'We have to talk about this. Are you carrying the child of the man who raped you?'
For a moment she says nothing. She gathers the skin covers and sits upright, her slender back against the cold wall, her hair falling like dark rain over her shoulders. 'Teucer, I don't know.' She sounds exhausted. 'I know only that we are having a child and I pray to the gods that it is yours and that it is healthy.'
His eyes are full of challenge as he steps away from her. 'And if I am not the father?'
She looks exasperated. 'Then you are not the father.' She looks away and stares at a twist of light streaming through the woven walls of the hut. She turns back to him, reaches out a hand. 'Teucer, it is still our child. We will still love it, raise it and make it our own.'
Hate flashes in his eyes. 'I will not bring up the child of the monster who raped my wife!' He steps away from the bed. 'What comes from evil brings only evil. If the sperm of badness grows inside you, then we must not let it live.'
Horror spreads across her face. Instinctively, she puts her hands to her stomach. The child is moving, no doubt sensing her fear. 'Husband, you are angry. Do not say such things.' She pulls a skin over her shoulders, stands and walks to him.
Teucer does not move. He loathes himself for his thoughts, for what he just said, for how he feels. But he knows he is right. Tetia wraps the cover around him so it envelops them both. 'Come and lie with me. Hold me and take me. Let's try to find each other again.'
And despite all the anger, he does. He lies with his wife and he lets her kiss him and hold him and put him inside her. He lets her do it because he's desperate for her, desperate for how things were and how he hopes they will be again. He holds her tighter than he's ever done. Kisses her so passionately they both struggle to breathe. And when she makes him come, it is more intense than he's ever experienced.
Lying in a warm post-coital haze, they both decide to move silently on. Tetia doesn't mention her awful fears. Her deep, dark worries that her husband may be right, that something truly evil might be growing inside her. And Teucer says nothing of the decision he's come to. The course of action he's determined to follow. To kill their child as soon as it's born.
CHAPTER 10
Present Day Carabinieri HQ, Venice Valentina listens to everything Tom has to say, interrupting only a couple of times to ask questions, then leaves him alone in the interview room.
The story is an incredible one.
Global time differences mean it will take a while to check it all out and see if Shaman really is who he says he is, and if he really did what he said he did.
Valentina uses Google as a shortcut. 'You're never going to believe this!' Pulling the printouts from the tray, she crosses the Incident Room to where her boss is. 'Our witness – the man in Room 3 – he's an ex-priest who killed two people.'
'A killer priest?'
'No, not like that. A hero.'
Vito Carvalho laughs loudly. 'Hero – killer – priest. I don't think I've ever heard those three words together before.'
'Well, you're hearing them now. Look-' She hands over the wad of papers. 'Seems he stepped into some street incident. Three against one. Couldn't save the girl being attacked, but killed two of the bad guys. He told me most of it but I wanted to cross-check before I said anything.'
Vito takes the pages. 'It's some strange kind of Padre who can handle himself like that in a street fight. What's he like?'
She raises her eyes, tries to stay factual. 'Maybe 1.9 metres tall. I guess ninety kilos, perhaps a bit more – he's a big guy. Lean, you know, muscular. Somewhere in his early thirties.'
Vito peers over the top of the printouts. 'Hey, remember he's a priest, and a witness. Not dating material.'
'Ex-priest.'
'Still a witness.' He gives her a paternal stare. 'And still not dating material. By the way, the internet's notoriously unreliable. Make sure all these details and whatever he said to you are checked properly. Get Maria Santanni to do it, she's thorough.'
'Si.' Valentina picks up a phone.
'Do it later. First, let's go and talk with your hero killer priest.'
'Ex-priest!' stresses Valentina again, as she lapdogs after him. Vito Carvalho doesn't pause at the interview-room door like Valentina did. He bursts straight in. Maximum noise. Maximum surprise. Looking to see how jumpy the guy waiting on the other side is.
Tom Shaman is slouched low on the hard-backed chair, chin comfortably resting on interlocked fingers. He looks up at the grand entrance and his eyes track Carvalho into the room. He only sits up when he sees Valentina. A sign of respect, nothing more. Her face gives away that she's run checks on him. That's no surprise. It's what he'd expect a cop to do. Hopefully, they'll let him go now.
'Hello again,' he says to Valentina.
'This is my boss, Major Carvalho.' She gestures to him as they slide into seats across the grey table. 'He's leading the enquiry into Monica's death.'
'Monica?'
The major fills in the blanks: 'Monica Vidic. Her father has identified her. She's fifteen and came from Croatia.'
'Poor guy. I imagine he's in pieces.' Tom momentarily recalls the horror of dragging the girl from the canal.
Carvalho is watching every gesture, every crease on his face, every movement of his lips. 'Why didn't you tell us straight away that you were a priest? That you left the Church such a short time ago?'
Tom shifts in his seat. 'Why should I? What difference does it make to you whether I used to be a priest or a rocket scientist?'
Carvalho drums his fingers. 'It probably doesn't make any difference. But a priest who left after the experience you went through – well, maybe that's something worth us talking about, right?'
'I didn't think it was worth mentioning. Not then – and not now.'
Carvalho tries coming at him from another angle. 'When I became a policeman I stopped believing in coincidences. Phrases like, "I just happened to be there when I came across this body," stopped ringing true. And I have real trouble believing that you left two corpses behind in LA, flew all this way and just happened to be on hand to find another one here in Venice. Do you see what I mean?'
Tom smiles. 'I do. I absolutely do see what you mean. But, at the risk of annoying you, I did just happen to be there. Ask the old man, he was the one who found the young girl – Monica.'