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S. Young

 
 
 
 
 
Tác giả: Paulo Coelho
Thể loại: Tiểu Thuyết
Upload bìa: Ngô Trà
Language: English
Số chương: 32
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Cập nhật: 2015-08-14 10:30:46 +0700
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Part 25
:21 PM
The pathologist, the commissioner, Savoy, and a fourth personwho has not been introduced, but who arrived with the commissionerare sitting round a table.
Their task is not to discuss the latest murder, but to draw up a joint statement to be presented to the journalists gathering outside. This time a really big Star has died, a well-known director is in intensive care, and the news agencies from around the world have obviously sent a stark message to their journalists: either come up with something we can print or youre fired.
Legal medicine is one of the most ancient of the sciences, involved as it is with identifying poisons and producing antidotes. Neverthe- less, in the past, royalty and the nobility always preferred to employ an official taster, just to avoid any nasty surprises the doctors failed to foresee.
Savoy had met this sage earlier today. This time, he allows the commissioner to step in and put a stop to the pathologists erudite lec- ture.
Thats enough showing off, Doctor. Theres a criminal on the loose in Cannes.
The pathologist remains impassive.
As a pathologist, I dont have the authority to determine the cir- cumstances of a murder. I cant give opinions on the matter; I can only describe the cause of death, the weapon used, the identity of the victim, and the approximate time when the crime was committed.
Do you see any link between the two deaths? Is there something that connects the murder of the film distributor and the actor?
Of course. They both worked in the movies.
He chuckles, but no one else moves a muscle. They clearly have no sense of humor.
The only connection is that, in both cases, toxic substances were used, both of which affect the organism with extraordinary speed. What is really intriguing about the second murder, though, is the way in which the hydrogen cyanide was wrapped. The envelope had inside it a fine plastic membrane vacuum-sealed, but easily torn when the en- velope was opened.
Could it have been made here? asks the fourth man, who has a strong foreign accent.
Possibly, but I doubt it, because its actual manufacture is very complex, and the person who made it knew that it would be used to murder someone.
So the murderer didnt make it?
I doubt it. A specialist group would almost certainly have been commissioned to produce it. In the case of the curare, the criminal himself could have dipped the needle in the poison, but hydrogen cya- nide requires special techniques.
Savoys thoughts immediately go to Marseilles, Corsica, Sicily, cer- tain Eastern European countries, and terrorist groups in the Middle East. He leaves the room for a moment and phones Europol. He ex- plains the gravity of the situation and asks them for a complete run- down on laboratories equipped to produce chemical weapons of that type.
Hes put through to someone who tells him that theyve just had a call from an American intelligence agency asking exactly the same thing. Whats going on?
Nothing. But please get back to me as soon as you have any infor- mationin the next ten minutes at the latest.
Thats impossible, says the voice on the other end. Well give you the answer as soon as we have it, not before or afterward. Well havetoputinarequest...
Savoy hangs up and rejoins the group. More paper. This appears to be an obsession common to everyone working in the field of public security. No one wants to risk taking a step without first having a guarantee that their superiors approve of what theyre doing. Men who once had a brilliant career ahead of them and began working with creativity and enthusiasm now cower fearfully in a corner, know- ing the enormous problems they face: they need to act swiftly, but, at the same time, the hierarchy of command must be respected; the media are always quick to accuse the police of brutality, while the taxpayers complain that crimes are never solved. For all these reasons, its always best to pass responsibility on to someone higher up.
His telephone call was really just a bit of play-acting. He knows who the killer is, and he alone will catch him; he doesnt want anyone else snatching from him the glory of having solved the biggest murder case in the history of Cannes. He must keep calm, but hes nevertheless impatient for this meeting to end.
When he goes back into the room, the commissioner informs him that Stanley Morris, formerly of Scotland Yard, has just phoned from Monte Carlo, telling them not to worry because he very much doubts that the criminal will use the same weapon again.
We could be facing a new terror threat, says the foreigner.
Yes, possibly, replies the commissioner, but unlike you, the last thing we want to do is sow fear among the population. What we need to do is draw up a press statement to prevent journalists from leaping to their own conclusions and broadcasting them on tonights TV news. This is an isolated terrorist incident, and may involve a serial killer.
But...
There are no buts. The commissioners voice is firm and au- thoritative. We contacted your embassy because the dead man comes from your country. You are here at our invitation. In the case of the two other Americans murdered, you showed no interest at all in send- ing a representative, even though in one case poison was also used. So, if youre trying to insinuate that were facing some kind of collective threat in which biological weapons are being used, you can leave now. Were not going to turn a criminal matter into something political. We want to have another Festival next year with all the usual glitz and glamour, so were taking Mr. Morriss advice and will draw up a state- ment along those lines.
The foreigner says nothing.
The commissioner summons an assistant and asks him to tell the waiting journalists that they will have their conclusions in ten minutes. The pathologist tells him that its always possible to track down the origin of hydrogen cyanide because it leaves a kind of signature, but tracking it down will take not ten minutes, but a week.
There were traces of alcohol in the body. The skin was red, and death was almost instantaneous. Theres no doubt about which poison was used. If it had been an acid, we would have found burns around the nose and mouth, and in the case of belladonna, the pupils would have been dilated, and . . .
Please, Doctor, we know that you studied at university and are therefore equipped to tell us the cause of death, and we have no doubts about your competence in the field. Let us conclude that it was hydro- gen cyanide.
The doctor nods and bites his lip, controlling his irritation.
And what about the other man, whos currently in hospital. The film director . . .
Were treating him with pure oxygen, six hundred milligrams of Kelocyanor via intravenous drip every fifteen minutes, and if that doesnt work, we can add sodium thiosulfate diluted in twenty-five percent . . .
The silence in the room is palpable. . . . Sorry. The answer is, yes, hell survive. The commissioner makes some notes on a sheet of yellow paper. He knows that hes run out of time. He thanks everyone, and asks the for- eigner not to come out with them, so as to avoid any further needless speculation. He goes to the bathroom, adjusts his tie, and asks Savoy to adjust his as well. Morris says that the murderer wont use poison next time. From what Ive gleaned, the killer is following a pattern, although it may be an unconscious one. Do you know what it is?
Savoy had thought about this as he was driving back from Monte Carlo. Yes, there was a pattern, which possibly not even the great Scot- land Yard inspector had noticed. It was this:
The victim on the bench: the murderer was close. The victim at the lunch: the murderer was far away. The victim on the beach: the murderer was close. The victim at the hotel: the murderer was far away. Therefore, the next crime will be committed with the murderer at his victims side, or, rather, that will be his plan, unless hes arrested in the next half hour. He learned all this from his colleagues at the police station, who gave him the information as if it were of no importance. And Savoy, in turn, had initially dismissed it as irrelevant too, but, of course, it wasnt; it was the missing link, the vital clue, the one piece needed to complete the puzzle.
His heart is pounding. Hes dreamed of this all his life and cannot wait for this interminable meeting to end.
Are you listening? Yes, sir. Look, the people out there arent expecting some official, technical statement, with precise answers to their questions. The fact is theyll do all they can to make us say what they want to hear, but we mustnt fall into that trap. They came here not to listen to us, but to look at us, and for their viewers and readers to be able to see us too.
He regards Savoy with a superior air, as if he were the most knowl- edgeable person on the planet. It would seem that Morris and the pa- thologist are not the only ones who like to show off their knowledge, well, everyone has their own way of saying: I know my job.
Think visual, by which I mean, remember that your face and body say more than words. Look straight ahead, keep your head up, and your shoulders down and slightly back. Raised shoulders mean tension and are a sure indication that we have no idea what is going on.
Yes, sir.
They walk out to the entrance of the Institute of Legal Medi- cine. Lights come on, microphones are thrust forward, people start to push. After a few minutes, this apparent disorder becomes more or- derly. The commissioner takes the piece of paper out of his pocket.
The actor was killed with hydrogen cyanide, a deadly poison that can be administered in various ways, although in this case it was used in the form of a gas. The film director survived the attack. His involve- ment was clearly accidental. He merely happened to enter the room while there were still remnants of the gas in the air. The CCTV footage shows a man walking down the corridor, going into one of the rooms, and, five minutes later, coming out again and falling to the floor.
He omits to say that the room in question is not actually visible to the camera. Omission is no lie.
The security personnel took swift action and sent for a doctor, who immediately noticed the smell of almonds, which was, by then, too dilute to cause any harm. The police were called, and they arrived at the scene less than five minutes later and cordoned off the area. An ambulance came, and the doctors used oxygen to save the directors life.
Savoy is beginning to feel really impressed by the commissioners easy manner. He wonders if all commissioners have to do a course in public relations.
The poison was delivered in an envelope, but we have not as yet been able to establish whether the writing on the envelope was that of a man or a woman. Inside was a piece of paper.
He fails to mention that the technology used to seal the envelope was highly sophisticated. There was a chance in a million that one of the journalists present would know this, although, later on, that kind of question would become inevitable. He also fails to mention that an- other man in the film industry had been poisoned that same afternoon. Apparently, everyone thinks he died of a heart attack, although no one has actually told them this. Sometimes its handy if the pressout of laziness or inattentiondraw their own conclusions without bother- ing the police. What was on the paper? is the first question.
The commissioner explains that he cannot reveal this now because doing so might hamper the investigation. Savoy is beginning to see the direction in which hes leading this interview and is filled with admira- tion; he really deserves his post as commissioner.
Could it have been a crime of passion? asks someone else.
Anything is possible at the moment. Now, if youll excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, we must get back to work.
He gets into his car, turns on the siren, and speeds away. Savoy walks to his own vehicle, feeling very proud of his boss. How amaz- ing! He can imagine the headlines already: Star thought to have been victim of crime of passion.
That was sure to capture peoples interest. The power of celebrity was so great that the other murders would go unnoticed. Who cares about a poor young girl, who died possibly under the influence of drugs and was found on a bench near the beach? What did it matter if some henna-haired film distributor had a heart attack over lunch? What was there to say about a murderanother crime of passion involving two complete nonentities who were never in the spotlight, on a beach away from all the hurly-burly of the Festival? It was the kind of thing that appeared every night on the television news, but the media would only continue speculating about it if a Major Celebrity was involved! And an envelope! And a piece of paper inside on which something was written!
He turns on the siren and drives in the opposite direction from the police station. In order not to raise suspicions, he uses the car radio. He finds the commissioners frequency.
Congratulations!
The commissioner is also rather pleased with himself. Theyve gained a few hours, possibly days, but they both know that theyre dealing with a serial killer of the male sex, well-dressed, with graying hair and about forty years old, and armed with sophisticated weapons. A man who is also experienced in the art of killing, and while he may be satisfied with the crimes hes already committed, he could easily strike again, at any moment.
Have officers sent to all the Festival parties, orders the com- missioner. They should look out for any men on their own who correspond to that description. Tell them to keep any suspects under surveillance. Call for reinforcements. I want plainclothes policemen, discreetly dressed and in keeping with their surroundingseither jeans or evening dress. And I repeat, I want them at all the parties, even if we have to mobilize the traffic police as well.
Savoy immediately does as he is told. He has just received a mes- sage on his mobile phone. Europol needs more time to track down the laboratories, at least three days.
Let me have that in writing, will you? I dont want to be held re- sponsible if something else goes wrong here.
He chuckles quietly. He asks them to send a copy to the foreign agent as well, since he himself is no longer interested in the matter. He drives as fast as he can to the Hotel Martinez, leaves his car at the entrance, blocking other peoples vehicles. When the porter complains, he shows him his policemans ID, throws him the keys so that he can park the car somewhere else, and runs into the hotel.
He goes up to a private room on the first floor, where a police officer is waiting, along with the duty manager and a waiter.
How much longer are we going to have to stay here? asks the duty manager. Savoy ignores her and turns to the waiter.
Are you sure that the murdered woman, whose picture appeared on the news, is the same woman who was sitting on the terrace this afternoon?
Yes, sir, pretty much. She looks younger in the photo with her hair dyed, but Im used to remembering guests faces, just in case one of them tries to leave without paying.
And are you sure she was with the male guest who reserved the table earlier?
Absolutely. A good-looking man of about forty, with graying hair.
Savoys heart almost leaps out of his mouth. He turns to the man- ager and the policeman.
Lets go straight up to his room. Do you have a search warrant? asks the manager. Savoys nerves snap: No I havent! And Im not filling in any more forms! Do you know whats wrong with this country, madame? Were all too obedi- ent! In fact, that isnt a problem peculiar to us, it applies to the whole world! Wouldnt you obey if they wanted to send your son off to war? Wouldnt your son obey? Of course! Well, since you are an obedient citizen, either take me to that room or Ill have you arrested for aiding and abetting!
The woman seems genuinely frightened. With the other policeman, they make their way over to the lift, which is coming down, stopping at every floor, unaware that a human life may depend on the speed with which those waiting for it can act.
They decide to take the stairs instead. The manager complains because shes wearing high heels, but Savoy simply tells her to take off her shoes and go up the stairs barefoot. They race up the marble stairs, gripping the bronze banister so as not to fall and passing various elegant waiting areas on the way. The people there wonder who this barefoot woman is, and what a uniformed policeman is doing in the hotel, running up the stairs like that. Has something bad happened? If so, why dont they take the elevator? Standards at the Festival are definitely dropping, they say to themselves; hotels arent as selective about their guests as they once were; and the police treat the place as if they were raiding a brothel. As soon as they can, they will complain to the manager, who, unbeknownst to them, is the same barefoot woman theyve just seen bounding up the stairs.
Savoy and the duty manager finally reach the door of the suite where the murderer is staying. A member of the security squad has already sent someone up to find out whats going on. He recognizes the manager and asks if he can help.
Savoy asks him to speak more quietly, but yes, he can help. Is he armed? The guard says that he is.
Then youd better stay here.
They are talking in whispers. The manager is instructed to knock on the door, while the three menSavoy, the policeman, and the se-
curity guardstand to one side, backs to the wall. Savoy takes his gun out of his holster. The other policeman does the same. The manager knocks several times, but gets no answer.
He must have gone out.
Savoy asks her to use the master key. She explains that she doesnt have it with her, and even if she did, she would only open that door with the authorization of the managing director.
Savoy responds politely this time:
No matter. Ill go downstairs and wait in the surveillance room with the security staff. Hell be back sooner or later, and Id like to be the first to question him.
We have a photocopy of his passport and his credit card number downstairs. Why are you so interested in him?
Oh, no matter.
The Winner Stands Alone The Winner Stands Alone - Paulo Coelho The Winner Stands Alone