The Last Hunt

IV

-So, János Szabó, right?
  Hm, this room surely looks interesting. It's a wide room with a long, fir table. On the floor, a bear skin rug. The animal wasn't very big, with a pretty dark fur. On the wall there is a big painting of a hunter with two pointers by his side, the rifle on his shoulder and at his feet a dead boar.
  Mr. Szabó is a middle aged man, slightly dark skinned with a bug bushy moustache. His hair and eyes are black and he wears a brown hat all the time with a cappercaille feather on it. He is short, about 1.60-1.65, a bit humped.
-Right, he answers with a deep voice
-l understand you were a friend of Mr. Popa. Can you tell me about your relationship?
-Well, Vasile and l were closed. We knew each other since childhood. He was the one who got me into hunting. I admit it, he wasn't a very pleasent man, but once you got to knew him he was a good friend. Very unpredictable, a happy person. Vasile was a very joyful man, enjoying life. I...I can't believe he is gone...
  A tear formed in thr corner of his left eye.
-Mr. Trapper, do you know how it feels to have your best friend killed? The one who was with you for your whole life, the one with whom you went through good and bad, dangers and adventures? To know that the man who saved your life, the man who offered you a meaning in life to just dissapear??
  The tear went down on his cheek. A second tear got out from the right eye. Though a bit delayed, they met under his chin.
-Maybe l do, Mr. Szabó...maybe l do...
  Ah, old painful memories! My dear Rebecca! We met when l was 17. She was one year older. I couldn't believe she liked me. I mean, yeah, l was a genius that time too, but l was a bit shy. I had a crush on her for about 2 years. I was so scared of talking to her. We became friends in the meanwhile and she was so nice to me. One day, l confessed. I offered her a big bouquet of flowers and opened my heart. She said nothing...just kissed me. Oh my, that kiss made my brain go crazy. She let me go and told me she was feeling the same for me, just that she was shy. We got a beautiful relationship. We went everywhere togheter, walk in the park, fishing, playing tennis and cricket, hiking, anything you can do for fun. It was a long relationship, and after three years l decided l want to marry her. She was the only one to understand me, the one who loved me from all her heart at that time. I bought her a superb ring and told her to meet in the park at night, in our special place. I was so excited! Walking there with a big smile on my face and stroking the ring box in my pocket. On my way, two big men ran by my sides, one with an oddly familiar purse. I thought it was weird, but l was distracted thinking about what l was about to do. I get leave the lane to go on a path in the forest, the one that was leading to our special place: an old wooden pavilion near a centuries old oak. It was placed in a clearing where at night the stars and moon where beautiful. Ah, the pavilion came into my sight and l could barely see a person's silhouete. I get closer and and shout "Coucou, birdie!". She didn't answer. I got worried. Getting closer to see if she feels ok, the Moon set its shine on her and l saw her! She was sitting there, on our bench, the purse l got her, nowhere and....oh Lord, l can't even... her throat slashed, her tanktop covered in blood, her skirt ripped off and her eyes wide open looking nowhere. My love and life was being in front of me lifeless! Because of me telling her to be there at that time of the night, she was raped and slaughtered like a pig, as a throat slash kills in a minute or two. Ah, Rebecca, what have l done?? It's my fault: the one l loved was killed in a horrible way because of me. If l haven't told her to be there, she would have been alive today. Oh, Rebecca, red haired angel! Your white skin was so pale that night. The blood pumpud by the heart l cherished went spilled on the ground and leaves. Since that night, to pay for what l've done, l sweared to fight crime. I wanted to go to med school, but l decided l have to pay for my sin. I don't know if God considered it a sin, l don't know if Pope would consider it a sin, but l don't care what is the answer. Life is life. It was a sin for me and l will pau by fighting crime. The trauma helped me. Ah, dear Rebecca, rest in peace in your grave from Yorkshire land!
-Mr. Trapper? Hello! Detective? Are you alright, sir? says János
-Yes...yes, l know how it feels. Now back at what we were talking....Anything exceptional happened recently?
-Let's see...nothing much. Just some poachers he and Gheorghe caught a week before he dissapeared.
-Hm! Poachers? Are they a common thing?
-Not really, no. They found the poachers with a doe and a boar in the truck. I don't know their names, but Gheorghe will tell you
-That's an amazing lead! Now tell me, when did you saw Mr. Popa for the last time?
-Ah, lemme think... It was two days before he dissapeared! Right when l was about to go home he said he will go check the feeders! I left him alone in the cabin that evening and it was locked when l came the next day
-And who has the key?
-Just me, Vasile and Gheorghe. That's all
-Interesting... And where are these feeders?
-Haha, everywhere in the forest!
-l see...thank you for your time. Now l gotta hear Mr. Vasile

  A tall man, 1.80-1.90 walks in. He wears a green coat. He has a Van Dyke beard, brown hair and blue eyes. He sat down.
-Hi, det. Trapper. I am Gheorghe Iona. So sad we meet in such a horrible moment...
-Possible. So tell me, Mr. Iona, were you close to Mr. Popa?
-Yes, we were good friends.
-Can you tell me more about those poachers?
  He looked really surprised
-H-How to you know?
-Mr. Szabó told me...now please!
-Well, we got them at the edge of the forest with a deer and a boar in their truck. Their names are Olteanu Ghiță and Moldovan Marian. They live in a near by village. Aren't you gonna write that down?
-I got an amazing memory. Go on now
-Oh, um...ok.
-Do they got a criminal record?
-They were involved in a few fights, driven drunk, domestic abuse and now hunting without a license
-I see...They might be important for our investigation. Tell me, you got any argue with him lately?
-To be honest...we got an argue once, one month before. I wanted to forgive a poor kid who killed a hare to feed his family, but Vasile said there is no way he could get away with it. The boy was desperate, ok? We got a huge fight, but in the end we did it my way
-Alright, thanks for your time. I gotta go now.

  Half an hour later, l am at a restaurant enjoying a nice venison with polenta!
-What are we gonna do now? says Ionescu
-We go to Pârjol house. I have to talk to Mr. Ion
-It's about his brother, isn't it?
-Wow, Mr. Ionescu, you really have a sharp mind!
  My sarcasm really irritated him
-Let's go then!
  He grabs my arm and takes me to the car
-But my meal?
-Oh, you can eat later!
  So this was a payback for my sarcasm! Very well, let the hunt continue!

  Such a beautiful house! Big, two floors, one big pair of antlers at the front door. At the door it appears a slender young lady, about 20 years old, 1.70 tall, black eyes and hair, caught in a pony tail, a sharp nose and chin, slightly dark skinned, remembering me of my days spent in Spain two years ago
-Hello, miss!
-Hello! I am Bianca, the housekeeper. Can l help you?
-Yes, l am det. Charles Trapper and he is the cop helping me today, Mr. Ionescu. We want to talk with Mr. Pârjol, please
-Of course, follow me
  On the hallways there are many trophies: antlers of red, roe and fallow deers, chamois and mouflon horns, skins of martens, badgers, boars, a bear, at some point, foxes, jackals, a wolf, a wildcat, some game heads and skulls and some stuffed birds and small mammals
-Hm, l see the brothers loved hunting, huh?
-Oh, no, says she. Only Mr. Flavius was a hunter. The best hunter l ever met. He used to honour every single kill. In fact, everything here was done by me
-Oh really?? You must be very gifted!
-Thanks, sir. It's a passion of mine. I loved helping Mr. Flavius with cooking game amd preserving the trophies
-And Mr. Ion? What's the deal with him?
-Pff, that leech? Mr. Flavius took him in after his wife left him and took his apartament. He does nothing. As there were no living relatives, he inheritated all the fortune. Here, he is on the balcony

-Hi! Mr. Ion Pârjol?
- Iertați-mă?
-Ah, l forgot to tell you! He doesn't speak any foreign language. Thos lazy-ass lice is a human failure!
-It's ok, Miss Bianca. We can do it from here. Mr. Ionescu will translate

  To save you from the long talk, here is the short version: Ion doesn't know our victim. They only met when his brother was killed and, though he says he hated that man, l know enough psychology to tell he is lying. It's true, l am not an expert, but this man is so bad at faking it! It's clear he is glad he got all that money and the house. The housekeeper confirmed it.
It's a dead end. Before l left, l admire a giant painting on the hallway with Mr. Flavius. He is way more different from his brother. While Ion is short, with a big beard, bald and kinda fat.
  Flavius was tall, slim, with a rich black hair, shaved sharp chin, aquilline nose, olive skin and black deep eyes. I have to know him, as Popa wasn't the only victim. In fact, my victim was a killer! Am accident, it's true, but it's still a death.
  I am interrupted by Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. I answer my phone
-Hi, Mr. Trapper? It's Georgescu, the forensic pathologist. Officer Ionescu gave me your number. I found a very important thing!
-What is it?
-The skull! I analized it and it turns out the bullets didn't kill him.
-What??
-Something sharp was put up his foramen magnum. The murderer stabbed him with something in the soft part of the back of his head and destroyed the brain.
-So the bullet holes are just...decoy?
-It seems so.
-Hm, thanks for letting me know. Bye!
 
-Very well, Ionescu, we are done for today. I will think about everything tonight in the hotel room this gets more and more sticky. So far, people who had the reason to kill him are the poachers, his wife and maybe one of his so called friends. I have to cosider every single probobility. It just seems our murderer is very cunning...