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Becoming a Philosopher 11
I enjoyed my Swedish trip, but I was glad to be returning home. The only negative about home was that it would be wet, windy, and cold when we landed in Cape Town. The challenge of what to do about the living arrangements in Carlo's apartment remained at the back of my mind.
When I turned my phone on once we landed there was an urgent message from Carlo's father. Carlo's father sounded serious and told me that he had terrible news. Carlo had been murdered. The housekeeper found his naked body in his bed, and it appeared as if he had been strangled. I was speechless for a moment, my heart sank, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Carlo's dad asked me not to return to the apartment yet, as it was a crime scene, and to contact the investigating office.
Carlo was murdered while I was touring Stockholm.
I told my parents the horrible news as soon as we met in the arrival hall, and we travelled home in silence taking it all in. I jumped to the conclusion, without any evidence, that it must have been Wynand.
I met Inspector February that afternoon and he took my statement. The police didn't know where to start. I told him about Wynand, the good-looking young winemaker, and that I had received a message from Carlo while I was in Sweden saying that Wynand had moved in for a while. February interrupted me and said that they hadn't found anything suggesting that anyone else was living with Sven. Inspector February took Wynand's contact details before leaving.
When he interviewed the young winemaker, he denied being in the apartment with Carlo at the time. He told the inspector that he only visited the apartment once before. Wynand mistakenly believed that no one else knew that he was staying with Carlo. Inspector February was a bright ambitious young detective and immediately, returned to the apartment building to watch the video footage from the apartment lobby, He found material from the day of the murder which contained footage of Carlo and Wynand fooling around in the lobby, there was also footage of Wynand leaving the building on the same day carrying a small kit bag.
He called the forensics team to find out whose sperm was on Carlos' body, and there was a match. They also had some pubic hair which they still needed to check out. The only thing left for Inspector February to do was to try and match the length of the bruising on the neck to Wynand's fingers, and he would speak to pathology.
This appeared to be a straightforward case, but Inspector February still wanted to establish the motive. He worked with the assumption that the murder was linked to jealousy, and he assumed that may have been rage. Inspector February took a constable with him and drove to Stellenbosch to arrest Wynand and take him in for questioning.
In the interrogation, the Inspector explained what evidence he had collected, and it didn't take long for Wynand to confess. He sobbed as he told him that Carlo had threatened to tell Marisa about their relationship. He didn't like being threatened and became very angry; he did not want to break Marisa's heart. They had just made love and Wynand said that he was sitting on Carlos's chest and leaned forward put his hands around his neck and strangled him.
You might be asking how I found all of this out. Simple. Inspector February was so grateful for the help I had given him, that he filled me in over a cup of coffee to say thanks.
Carlo's father had managed to keep the press at bay and had arranged for the body to be repatriated to Italy and for the funeral to happen there. Carlo's also father made it possible for me to continue living in the apartment until the lease expires at the end of the next year, and he said that I was welcome to share the apartment with someone else.
I was in two minds about moving into the apartment knowing that Carlo had been murdered there. And I thought that I would certainly have to get rid of his bed. His father also said that I could keep all the furnishings that they had purchased when I finally moved from the apartment.
I called Sven in Sweden to tell him about the developments. He couldn't believe that Carlo had been murdered and he said he was sad about it. He was stunned into silence. Sven spoke about Nicolas and how well he had settled at school. He said that Nicolas had given him a purpose to live and that he delighted in helping him with his schoolwork. He also told me that his grandmother was doing well and that she sent her love. Sven`s mother who hadn't worked as a lawyer for many years was volunteering in a refugee support agency and providing legal advice to refugees in the city. She found the work meaningful, but it impacted some of the friendships that she had, especially those friends who felt that Sweden was losing its cultural identity.
Sven suggested that I ask Martin to share the apartment. The thought had crossed my mind, but I hadn't acted on it. When I approached Martin, he was pleased that I had thought of him and said that he would love to share.
Inspector February gave us the go-ahead to return to the apartment. Martin and I went into the room where Carlo was murdered and stood in silence for a couple of minutes. It was sad that a young person with so much potential was now dead. We decided to donate the bed to a homeless shelter. Neither Martin nor I were keen to sleep in the room and we kept it locked and shared my room.
It was a beautiful sunny apartment and an ideal place to focus and study. Martin and I were both diligent students and applied ourselves throughout the semester. I was reluctant to speak directly to Marisa as I didn't think that she would want to since I was a friend of Carlo's. Wynand's arrest was a shock for Marisa and she didn't believe that he could do something like that. I had thought about Hannah Arendt again and how she struggled to understand how Eichmann could do the evil things he did.
I helped Martin bring his stuff across from his family home. He was excited to be moving out and said that we would have a lot of fun together. I had met Martin in scouts, and he had gone on many hikes with Matt and me. He was a slender young man and was just under six feet. His legs were long, and he often wore tight jeans with torn knees. His light blonde hair seemed to stick out in all directions, and he walked with the playful gait of a young gazelle, his blue eyes on the lookout for any sign of imminent threat. I remembered the hike we went on together a few months before.
The hike started well, and we made good progress. However, the weather changed rapidly, and we retraced our steps and moved down the mountain quickly, it began to rain and sleet just before we got to the car. I started the engine and we warmed ourselves up at the heater vents, and we drove down to a nearby youth hostel and checked in for the night.
I had never thought of Martin in a sexual way before, but the more I listened to him and felt him near me, the more I was attracted to him. I suppose I was always so obsessed with Matt that I had never paid attention to him.
It was freezing outside, and we huddled close to the fire. He leaned his head against me and told me that he was always envious of Matt and me and wished that he could have joined in some of our private activities. I was surprised that he knew, and he said that most people knew something was going on. I blushed at the thought of it.
With our lips still touching Martin let himself fall backward, pulling me with him so that I fell on top of him. I looked into his eyes and saw an expression I had never seen before, but which I instinctively understood was an expression of desire. I pulled Martin's T-shirt to get it off his body. I managed to do it without tearing it and resumed my firm embrace around his neck, kissing him wherever my lips could touch him.
I felt my hands shaking when I carefully opened his jeans and pulled them off his hips, and I was rewarded by a beautiful, medium-sized dick, that jumped into freedom. I went down and engulfed it in my mouth playing with the foreskin and slowly moving the shaft.
We moved into a 69 position, and we soon released our loads in each other's mouths. Martin and I kept each other warm on that stormy night. In the morning we showered together, and I got a better chance to explore his body in the morning light, and I made sure that I tasted his cum again. Martin played with my dick and edged me a couple of times and made me aware of what I had been missing over the years.
We packed Martin's belongings in the empty cupboard in the bedroom. He put his toiletries in the bathroom, and we explored the rest of the apartment (that did not take long). Martin gave me a long kiss and said:
"Thank you, Tom. Thanks for inviting me to move in with you."
I felt my dick grow hard and I felt his against mine, as I went in for another kiss. He took me to his unmade bed and pulled me on top of him. We wildly stripped off our clothes and I asked him to fuck me. I sucked his dick and then smeared lube on it. I sat on my knees over is stomach while he massaged my abs. I put some lube in my hole and then sat and brought my hole onto his erect dick. He went in carefully and I began to slowly move up and down. The angle was just right, and my prostate was sending good signals. He moaned with satisfaction as he supported my body with his firm Boy Scout hands. I started ejaculating and my cum splashed onto his chest and neck. He shouted:
"I'm going to come."
He eased me off and I rolled next to him, nearly falling off the bed! I licked the cum of his chest and kissed him, and he said:
"That was magnificent, Tom. Thanks."
We lay next to each other running our fingers lightly across each other's chests.
"Martin that was fantastic and I have post-sex clarity now. I do want to move into Carlo's room, you take this room. Let's give each other some space. I loved Carlo as a brother and I only feel-good energy towards him."
The next morning there were reporters in front of the building. They wanted to know about Carlo. I told them that I was a flatmate and that I didn't know much else. They barked more questions, and it seemed as if they had been fed information. I went back inside and called Inspector February. After a brief conversation, I realised that it was this ambitious young policeman seeking publicity. I used the back entrance and went to see Carlo's dad to warn him that the press was snooping.
I was glad to see him face to face, and I hugged him and told him how sorry I was. His wife had returned to Italy, and he would join her as soon as the body was repatriated. He told me that he and his wife would not return to South Africa and that he asked for an alternate posting. I gave him one of Carlo's small cases in which I had packed some of his personal belongings and suggested that he give it to his wife. Carlo's dad started crying and I couldn't hold my tears back - this was the first time I cried for Carlo. We hugged again and I suggested that we get together soon with my friend Matt's mother.
At that moment I thought of the Italian holocaust survivor Primo Levi who said: "Monsters exist, but they are too few in number to be truly dangerous. More dangerous are the common men, the functionaries ready to believe and to act without asking questions."
The Cape Town and national papers all covered the murder the next day: "Rage murder", "Winemaker murderer", "Student strangled to death", "Police solve a murder" and "Diplomat's child murdered". I felt sorry for Carlo's family, but we knew this was coming. Fortunately, there was little about me in the papers, but there was a photo of our apartment building. Martin suggested that we just hang tight and let the hype pass by.
That afternoon my phone rang. Marisa was calling.