4

On that rainy day the corridor was particularly dark and gloomy. The sphynx-like profiles of the white herms stood out against the frame of the single window near the service stairs, and the gleaming black-and-white floor added to the feeling of being in a hospital or museum, equally desolate places. De Vincenzi felt chilled to the bone. It wasn’t just that the nightmare was starting up again, he quickly told himself, but that it was doing so at such a horrific pace.

He knocked once at Cristiana’s door, and without waiting for a reply turned the handle and opened it. Cristiana stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasping crossed arms. Her head was lowered. Maybe she, too, was shivering, perhaps about to spring into action, whether to attack or defend herself. Her eyes were clear, her face wan. This time De Vincenzi immediately spotted that she really was deeply troubled. He hadn’t seen her like this before, though he had noted her reaction when he’d shown her Evelina’s body suddenly and without warning.

Cristiana started when she spotted De Vincenzi.

“It’s you!”

“Pardon me, Signora. O’Lary told me you were troubled by the discovery of another orchid, and I thought it better for me to come to your assistance than for him to do so. If, that is, you need help.”

Cristiana’s nerves slowly unravelled, her tense muscles relaxed and a faint smile appeared on her face.

“As it happens, I don’t think there will be any need for help. After those deaths yesterday, it’s perfectly understandable that my nerves should be humming. That orchid gave me a fright at first—but it’s only childish fear, with no justification. It’s I who must ask your pardon, Inspector.”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t call your fear childish or unwarranted.”

“Would you like to see it? It’s an orchid, just like the others.”

She opened the bathroom door and stood aside so he could go in first. There were two orchids on the dressing table, one in the glass vase De Vincenzi had seen it in the day before and the other on a pink cloth, as if it had fallen or was waiting for someone to reclaim it. The door to the “museum of horrors” was closed, and the latch still hanging askew.

“When did you notice that there were two flowers?”

“A few minutes ago when I came in here to take a bath and get dressed. I only just got out of bed. I had a frightful night, hardly slept a wink.”

It had to be true. Cristiana was still in pyjamas and a pink bathrobe, with deep dark circles under her eyes that were surely the result of insomnia. Anyone coming in from the “museum of horrors” could have calmly put the second orchid on the dressing table, and Cristiana would never have heard it. The communicating door no longer presented any problems—such as the possibility of making noise. But why would someone do it, unless they were trying to warn and frighten Cristiana? For De Vincenzi, one thing was sure: none of his theories seemed to stand up in the light of this new and baffling event. He slowly returned to the bedroom with Cristiana behind him.

He was so perplexed he didn’t know where to start with his questioning, though it had been his reason for coming to Corso del Littorio after his visit to via Catalani and Piazza della Scala, and his chat with Russell Sage.

Cristiana slumped into an armchair, the same one he’d found her in the day before. He looked at the bed. Of course the body wasn’t there any more. The bed was unmade.

“Can you tell me something about orchids, Inspector?”

Her question was neither facetious nor bizarre. She really was longing for an answer.

“My dear Signora, I can tell you, based on my school memories and the encyclopedia I studied last night at home, that they are monocotyledons, extremely polymorphous due to a series of adaptations to environmental conditions and their means of pollination.”

“Polymorphous?” Cristiana wrinkled her brow.

“Having many forms,” said De Vincenzi with a smile. Then, after a silence, “Does all that help you to understand why someone would place an orchid by the two bodies, and a third in your bathroom?”

“No, it does not!” She sat pondering the situation with fear growing in her eyes.

“Did you know that Signorina Evelina was so worried for the past two months that she couldn’t even spend time reading, which was her favourite activity?”

“Evelina? Why would she have been so worried? And why should I know anything about it?”

“Did you know that your husband has decided to settle in Milan?”

“Russell Sage is no longer my husband. I was granted a divorce before I left America. He must have heard about it on Alcatraz.” Up to that point she had appeared depressed, lost. But due to her miraculous willpower, she remained wary and alert. “What else did you learn, Inspector?”

“Oh, not much more than that, Signora. Only that Valerio used to go to the dog races.”

“Valerio? Not on your life! Last year I had to order him to go in order to get him to take one of my greyhounds to the San Siro Dog Track, and he still went only the one time. Fatima came last that evening, though she usually won.”

“I suppose Fatima is your greyhound?”

“Was, Inspector. I had to get rid of her.”

“Did she win many prizes?”

“A few.”

So things were looking even more unsettling. The medallion he’d found in the “museum of horrors” might not have belonged to Valerio, while… But De Vincenzi didn’t want to dig any deeper. He needed to gather a few more facts before beginning his offensive, which might even end in defeat. He stood up.

“Polymorphous… having many forms, right?” She was still thinking about the orchid. No matter who had killed Valerio and Evelina, one thing was certain: Cristiana was afraid of that third orchid. “Are you going?”

“Oh, I won’t be able to leave this building so soon, Signora. But I ask your permission to visit the rooms I still haven’t seen. Valerio’s room, for example.”

“I don’t think it will reveal great or interesting things to you. Valerio was a bird of passage… He never settled down or built a nest. You’ll find only a few articles of clothing and a huge mess.”

But De Vincenzi found something else there.