“Now, the indole, skatole and thiol are excrement.” A glance toward the chart once more. “Those’re shit. With the paper fiber? Human shit, of course. No other creatures I know wipe. It’s old shit, quite old, desiccated. You can see in the picture—and of several different types. See the color and texture variations? I would speculate there is a sewer nearby, one that might not have been used for some time.
“The animal hairs are from a rat. It’s shedding because it’s scratching; it has a skin irritation—the bartonella bacteria are causing that. The particular strain is the one that most commonly infects rats. Rats and sewers, well, you find them everywhere but more often in cities than smaller towns. So, urban setting.”
“Bene,” said Beatrice Renza.
“The iron shavings tell me the Composer cut a lock or chain to get access to the place. Iron isn’t used much anymore—most locks are steel—so it’s old. With the rust on only one side—you can see it there, that photo—it was recently cut.”
Rossi said, “You suggested it used to have public access, in the past.”
“Yes, because of the rubber.”
“The rubber?” Ercole asked. He seemed to be memorizing all that Rhyme said.
“What else would be vulcanized? Translucent, decomposing shreds. Vulcanized rubber.”
It was Beatrice who nodded. “They are the old condoms, might it not be?”
“Exactly. Hardly a romantic trysting place, with the rat neighbors, and sewers, but perfect for streetwalkers.” Rhyme shrugged. “They’re bold deductions. But we have a man who’s about to be strangled to death. I don’t think we have time to be timid. So, what does this tell you about where the victim might be? Underground in Naples? Of course, a deserted area.”
Rossi said, “Not many of those here. We are a very crowded city.”
Beatrice said, “And Naples has more underground passages and walkways than any other city in Italy. Perhaps than Europe. Kilometers after kilometers.”
Ercole disagreed. “But not so many where access is in deserted places.”
The lab analyst muttered to him, “No, I think many. We must find other ways to narrow these concerns down.”
Rhyme said, “A map. There has to be a map of underground locations.”
“Historical documents,” Daniela offered.
With a smile, Ercole said to her, “Yes, of course. From a library or a college or a historical society.”
Rhyme turned to him and his eyebrow rose.
Ercole hesitated and said, “Is that wrong? It was just a suggestion.”
Rossi said, “I think, Ercole, that Captain Rhyme is not questioning your thought—which is a good, if obvious, one—but your delay in providing such maps.”
“Oh, yes, yes, of course.”
Sachs told him, “Go online. We don’t have time for you to prowl though libraries like The Da Vinci Code.”
Must have been a book, Rhyme supposed. Or movie.
Sachs asked Beatrice, “You mentioned the underground passages here. Are there walking tours?”
“Yes,” she replied. “My sister’s children, we are going on such tours. Several, three times.”
“Ercole,” Rhyme called, “download all those tour routes too.”
“Yes, I will. You mean so that we can eliminate those areas from our underground search. Of course he would avoid places with tourists.”
“I want to orient myself. A map of the city. We need a map.”
Rossi spoke to Daniela, who vanished then returned a moment later with a large foldout map. She taped it to the wall.
“How are we coming, Ercole?”
“I…There are quite a few underground areas of the city. I didn’t realize how—come si dice—how extensive the passages are.”
“As I was saying,” Beatrice offered to Ercole.
“Some are contradictory. Indicated on one map but not another.”
“I would think certain underground areas will have been filled in, construction,” Rossi said. To Rhyme, Sachs and Thom he said, “This is a problem in Italy. A real estate man wishes to build an office or apartments and as soon as the excavation is started, a Roman or—here often—a Greek ruin is discovered, and all construction comes to a stopping.”
“Give me something to work with, Ercole. We need to get on this.”
“I have some, a few passageways, old buildings, grain storage warehouses, even some caves that are promising.” He looked up. “How do I print?” he asked Daniela.
“Here.” She leaned over him. She typed and a moment later, the Hewlett-Packard in the corner came to life. Rhyme didn’t know why he was surprised—perhaps because he was in an ancient city, looking at ancient maps; wireless printing routers seemed out of place.
Sachs fished the pages from the tray and handed them to Daniela. Rhyme instructed, “Draw the passages on the map.”
“Tutti? All of them?”
“Except the ones that seem to be bricked off.”
In her firm, swift strokes, she outlined the networks.
Rhyme said, “Now add public works. Sewers. But just the older ones, from historical maps. Old shit, remember? And open, not enclosed, pipes. The Composer stepped in the trace.”
The young officer began a new search. The maps Ercole found were obviously incomplete but they showed some sewage sluices that had been in operation in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Daniela put these on the map.
“Okay, now eliminate the walking-tour routes,” Rhyme instructed.
Ercole printed out the website information from “Underground Naples, See History Up Close!” and a half-dozen others. Daniela noted the routes and marked off any that coincided with the passageways and sewers they’d found.
Still, miles and miles of places to stash the victim remained.
Rossi said, “And an area where prostitutes worked, you were suggesting?” He looked at Giacomo, who gazed at the map and said, “I have patrolled—you would say in vice squad—many of the areas where working women and men are found, the Spanish Quarters, Piazza Garibaldi, Corso Umberto, Gianturco, Piazzale Tecchio—the San Paolo stadium, Via Terracina, Fuorigrotta, Agnano and Corso Lucci. These are active now. The Domiziana—or now Domitiana—area, north and west of Naples, was known historically for prostitution, and still is. But it’s very congested and the population is mostly immigrant. It would be hard for the Composer to get his victim there. And no underground passages are nearby.”
Rhyme said, “Circle the first areas you have mentioned, Officer.”
Giacomo took the marker from Daniela and did so.
This narrowed down the number of passageways and chambers to about two dozen.
“What are they exactly,” Sachs asked.
Rossi said, “Roman roads and alleyways and sidewalks before they were built over. Tunnels for delivery of merchandise to avoid the congested streets. Water reservoirs and aqueducts. Grain warehouses.”
“Water?”
“Yes. The Romans built the best water delivery infrastruttura in the world.”
Then Rhyme called, “Beatrice, you found limestone and lead?”
She didn’t understand, and Ercole translated.
“Sì. Yes, we did. There it is, you can see.”
“Were the old Roman aqueducts limestone?”
“Yes, they were and, as you are suggesting, I believe, the pipes…shifting the water, transporting the water to the fountains and the homes and the buildings, were lead. Now replaced, of course, for healthy reasons.”