The Ouroboros Mystery

“Mind telling me what’s going on?”

Fiorella looked daggers at Khaled, who sat glumly in the interview room, arms hanging limply at his sides. In front of him was the faience hippopotamus that had fallen out of his pocket when Giorgia had surprised him two hours earlier. There was also a small granite jackal she’d found in his jacket after patting him down.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting one hand and raking it through his hair. “It was a mistake.”

“Obviously, but that’s not what I asked. Why were you carrying ancient Egyptian artefacts into a nightclub?”

Khaled stared ahead of him wordlessly.

“The less you say, the more rope you get to hang yourself,” said Fiorella, thoroughly disgusted. She grabbed her pen and paper and stood up to go.

“You don’t understand!” Khaled burst out. “I’m desperate! Ahmed’s wife and mother have been crying nonstop. They were making a life here and now they’ll have to go back to Egypt. How will they live?”

Fiorella sat down.

“OK, yes. I stole the pieces. A friend told me those guys have paid for art before.”

“Which guys?”

“The Marinescu brothers. Some people at the bar told me that they have art-dealer contacts everywhere: London, Switzerland, Dubai…I told their associate I had some Egyptian pieces they might be interested in. Yes, it was stupid. I wanted to make some money for the family, before going back. At home it’s hard…wages are so low…”

“Had you contacted the Marinescu brothers about this?”

“They don’t like people to contact them by phone. I talked to the associate who said they’d see some samples so I brought these two things.”

“You’re telling me this is the first time you’ve done this?”

“Yes. I swear on my life!” He put a hand over his heart. “And I didn’t even meet them. The officer stopped me just in the door.”

“Well you can thank her for saving you from some serious jail time. Do you know the penalty for trafficking valuable artefacts? It’s not peanuts, I’ll tell you that. Now, Mr. Ali, I want you to tell me something.”

“Yes?” he asked.

“When did you take these items, exactly?”

He sighed.

“I went to the museum after closing time on Friday, about 6.30, when I knew the cleaning staff would have finished. I was going to turn the security cameras off but I realized that they were already out. I was in the staff room to get the key to the amulet cabinet when I heard sounds in the corridor.”

“What sort of sounds?”

“A door closing, really quietly. But it squeaked slightly. I hid behind the door and stayed quiet, waiting for whoever it was to go but I didn’t hear anything for a while. About five minutes later I heard the back door open and close and heard high heels clack-clack along the corridor. There were a few knocks at one of the doors and a woman’s voice said, 'Enrico? Are you there?'

“The footsteps came close to me and I held my breath as she looked into the staff room. I saw she had red hair. I thought I would die of a heart attack. Luckily she didn’t look behind the door! I heard her curse and she clack-clacked away again. When I heard the outside door close, I quickly got the key to the amulet cabinet and rushed to the display hall. When I was in the corridor I smelled something strong—sickly like sweet alcohol. I realized that the sound I’d heard earlier was probably from a cleaner. Well, that annoyed me a little because I’d wanted to have a clear field but on the other hand I’m a member of staff and had every right to go the cabinets, after all.”

“You didn’t see a cleaner though?”

“No.”

“And then?”

“I went to the amulet hall and took out these things. I didn’t think they’d be missed, we have so many of them. I crept back to the staff room, returned the key, and left.”

“What time was that?”

“About a quarter past seven. I heard the quarter-hour chime from the church.”

“Did you exit through the carpark?”

“Yes.”

“Did you recognize any cars in the parking lot?”

“Yes. In fact, I noticed that Enrico’s car was there, the only one. I had a shock because I thought maybe he was there in the museum, maybe he saw me! But then why wasn’t he in his office?”

“I see. Well this is very helpful Khaled. Thank you.”

“What will happen to me please?” he asked.

“Well…you certainly had an intent to commit a crime but as far as I can see you failed miserably. Luckily for you. If you take my advice you’ll resign your post this week and return to Egypt to arrange new employment. As for your sister-in-law and her family, I’ll see what I can do.”

Khaled gulped and tears filled his eyes.

“Thank you, thank you Signora Commissario! I—” he put his hand to his heart, overcome.

Fiorella nodded brusquely and left the room, followed by Giorgia. A sense of excitement had taken hold of her. Khaled’s testimony helped to fix a sequence of events that she’d previously been unclear about. She walked briskly to her office, sat down at her desk and started jotting down notes.

18.30 Khaled arrives at museum. Cameras deactivated. He goes to staff room, hears a door open.

18.40 He hears a woman [Theodora Rossa?] enter the building, knock on his door. She leaves almost immediately

19.00 He takes key to the amulet cabinet and goes to the hall. Smells sweet alcohol in the corridor [chloroform?]. Steals artefacts. Returns keys.

19.15 Returns to staff room, then leaves. Sees Enrico's car.

Fiorella pondered. It confirmed what Theodora Rossa had said. The storage room was just across from the staff room. Had the smell come from there? Was the killer there? The Egyptian man had had a lucky mistake in more ways than one, it seemed.

***

“Couldn’t Khaled be lying though?” Giorgia said as the two women smoked outside the office building.

“He could be, sure. But I don’t think so,” Fiorella said, pulling her coat over her uniform against the cold.

“He had a motive for getting rid of Enrico. He must have been desperate not to get fired.”

“Right, but why involve Theodora and Lucia? Why text to ask them to come to the museum at the exact time he kills Enrico?”

“You’re assuming it was the murderer who texted them to come to the museum. Maybe it was actually Enrico himself, asking for help.” Giorgia pointed out.

Fiorella frowned and flicked some ash into the ash-pillar outside the door.

“Why wouldn’t he just call the police in that case? No, it doesn't make sense. If what Khaled says is true, it means that the murderer was there in the museum between 6.30 and 7.30. That's useful to us. I’ll bet you, too, that Lucia was there in the store room with Enrico’s body.

“That reminds me,” said Giorgia, frowning. “When did they put his body in the pot do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Lucia said that when she woke up at 10pm he was lying beside her in the storeroom, right? And he was lying on his back, as if he was asleep. So it must have been after that that he was taken to the display hall and put in the pot. ”

Fiorella nodded.

“I think we’re going to need to talk to Lucia again.”