The Ancient Curse by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

empty sarcophagus seems more like a declaration of undying love.’
    Fabrizio looked at the photo he’d taken earlier on his digital camera and admired the sublime features of the alabaster maiden, then said, ‘Let me see if I can guess what you’re thinking. The Phersu was the husband of this lovely lady, who continued to believe in his innocence even after the ordeal. She would have been forbidden to have herself buried in this cursed place but she wanted her image to soothe the spirit of her husband, unjustly accused for all of eternity.’
    Francesca gave him a slight smile. ‘You think that’s impossible?’
    ‘No, not at all. I wouldn’t know how else to explain the presence of a female cenotaph in a place like this.’
    Francesca knew that Fabrizio would have liked to prolong the conversation, but she excused herself. ‘I’m sorry I can’t join you for dinner tonight. I have to go and see my parents in Siena. My mother’s not well.’
    ‘That’s OK. We’ll see each other tomorrow or the next day. I don’t feel like eating anyway. I’ll just drink a glass of milk and go to bed.’
    ‘Well, bye then.’
    ‘Goodbye, Francesca.’
    The girl got into her car, started it up and pulled away. Fabrizio waited for the dust to clear on the trail before leaving as well. He could see the spread of the Suzuki’s headlights about a kilometre up ahead and could still hear the sound of the engine. He decided to put on some Mozart, hoping to calm his frayed nerves. Just as he was about to turn on to the main road he thought he could hear the howl again, but no, it was a siren. He breathed a sigh of relief.
    But not for long. It was the carabinieri and they were looking for him.
    ‘Sergeant Massaro,’ said the officer, getting out of the Land Rover and extending his hand. ‘Thank God we found you, Dr Castellani.’
    ‘Why, what’s wrong?’
    ‘Another one’s been found, ten minutes ago.’
    ‘Another what?’
    ‘Another body, ripped apart by that animal. Most of his face is missing. It won’t be easy to identify him. Guy named Farneti found the corpse as he was coming home from his cheese factory. We’re combing the area, lieutenant’s orders.’
    Fabrizio lifted his eyes to the sky and saw a helicopter’s searchlights scanning the area between the Rovaio woods and the eroded Gaggera hillside.
    ‘Listen, have you seen Inspector Dionisi?’
    ‘Yes, driving in the direction of Colle Val d’Elsa.’
    ‘Thank goodness.’
    ‘You didn’t see or hear anything out in the fields?’
    ‘Nothing at all.’
    ‘Well, that’s good. But I think the lieutenant will want to talk to you tomorrow morning anyway. Where will you be?’
    ‘At the museum. After nine o’clock, I’ll surely be at the museum.’
    Massaro gave a little salute, got back into the Land Rover and drove off at top speed. Fabrizio headed straight home. He was utterly exhausted, but very agitated at the same time. The idea of another mangled body had totally unnerved him. He couldn’t help but connect what he’d seen in the coffin with the violence that had just occurred in some lonely corner of the Volterra countryside.
    He took out his phone and dialled Francesca’s mobile number.
    ‘Where are you?’
    ‘I’m near Colle, almost at the motorway. Why?’
    ‘Thank God you’re all right.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘They found another one, quarter of an hour ago.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’
    ‘Another corpse, maimed like the first one. Massaro told me he’s missing his face, or his head – I don’t remember.’
    There was no answer from Francesca.
    ‘Can you hear me?’
    ‘Yes, I can,’ replied the girl. ‘I’m appalled.’
    The call was cut off; she had likely moved out of range. But Fabrizio felt a little better. Francesca was at least thirty kilometres from the scene of the killing. His first thought was to call the carabinieri and ask whether the body had been identified. He was ready to swear that it would be another of the