The Right World

By Laura De Benedetti

While following the police investigation into femicide, you discover The Right World. A society that, as if reflected through a mirror capable of reversing gender roles, is matriarchal. Women make a career only if they have daughters; they have always guided the evolution of the species; the image of human perfection is Vitruvius' woman. 
It is men who demand equal opportunities, claim equal pay and less discrimination.
Between international politics scenarios, the Holy Mother of the Church's statements, episodes of matriarchal fundamentalism, the policewoman who leads the investigation wonders whether to give birth to a daughter.
Her doubts and the inquest run parallel along with the crescendo of history, up to the epilogue.
It will then be up to you to decide if The Right World is a utopia, an ideal dream to be achieved, or a dystopia, a reality in which we would not want to live, neither as oppressors nor as oppressed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura De Benedetti
• Release date: Apr 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9791220292573

Book preview

Credits

Tuesday

She was on the second day of her three-day annual menstrual leave. The first she spent at home, going from the bed to the sofa. On the second, she could not stand it any longer, so she went out, despite the sometimes piercing pain in her pelvis, which she had not wanted to relieve with painkillers. She had not even bothered to try and cover up her pallor and the shadows under her eyes with make-up. She was not religiously observant, but, as she normally did on these occasions, she entered the ancient abbey, which was practically empty in the early morning. And she sat on a bench near the altar, contemplating the sculpture of the Virgin Mary, lovingly holding her Magdalene. Her sense of guilt was as strong as her fear. She looked up at the large fresco majestically adorning the apse: the Goddess, the Great Mother of womankind, holding out her arms towards women yearning to be reunited with Her. She closed her eyes and for a moment the smell of the rosebuds from the small bloomer at the steps of the altar, lightened by the early morning sun filtering through the stained-glass window, flooded back to her memories of her grandmother who whispered: «You too will bring a life into this world one day. It is the greatest gift.» But her decision to go back to her natural cycle to have a daughter was not an act of faith. Nor was it a strong desire to have a descendant, to sprout up a new branch on her family tree. She knew that in a few years, captain Jasmine would have moved on to integrated pre-pension activities, and she wanted to be ready to take her place. She knew that she deserved that promotion professionally, but nobody would ever offer such a prestigious job to someone who was not a mother. In her impressive curriculum, the number of children's entry box was depressingly empty. To get her career going in the police, she had highlighted her four years as a condominium babysitter during the last two years of high school and the first two years of university and the ordinary tasks within the condominium commune, which included taking care of the other mothers' daughters. Up until then, she had been able to make do with this, highlighting her professional capacities. But now she knew it was ridiculous to expect it to suffice for the promotion. Emma got up and looked for the priestess. She was seeking redemption: she wanted the right thing for the wrong reason.

♀

«Why did you call me here?» Jasmine, the captain of the Police force, did not tend to rush to the crime scene: she expected a lot from her women, but she was equally sure that the information they would then pass on to her, along with the evidence and pictures of the crime scene, would be enough for her to co-ordinate the investigation.

«You have to see this with your own eyes. It's a serious incident. Before the killing, the victim» Azra, the sergeant, who had been waiting on the patio, was looking for a milder way of putting it, but she failed, so she lowered her voice, «... was raped.»

«Are you joking?»

«The forensic expert can tell you herself. She's certain of it. Before killing her, they raped her.»

«Circular condominiums with swimming pool, lots of greenery, two wellness centers within a kilometer radius,» confirmed Jasmine, looking around. «This is a rich neighborhood. Who was it?»

«Neeve, 38, mother of three little girls, councilor to the United Nations Federation. She had been working for Secretary-General Jezabele for two years. After the resolution of the conflict between Sweden and Norway, there was talk of her appointment as president of the United Nations Peace Commission…»

«My Goddess, I know who she is!» Jasmine opened her eyes wide, then directed them decisively at Azra: «Tighten security around the area. Keep the journalists away. Justify my presence by the fact that this is the femicide of a diplomat. But woe betide anyone who talks of sexual violence. We need time before word gets out.»

They crossed the large atrium, which led onto a stairway, and entered a hall, illuminated through the majestic windows by the sun.

The naked woman's body was on the floor, her terrorized eyes fixed in utter disbelief at the last still picture of the one who had taken her life away. At the base of the head, the scarf which had taken away her final breath barely hid the purple necklace of blood under the skin. Her fingers still were contracted by the desperate, useless attempt to loosen the deadly grip, even if her arms, once the heart had stopped beating, had fallen to her sides. Her legs were bent and parted open, revealing a pool of blood, and she had bruises on her thigh. Blood leaked out from her womb. Her clothes were scattered around.

«Hi, Laura. Are you sure?» the captain asked the anatomopathologist, who was examining every centimeter of the victim's body while the other women from the forensics department were taking samples.

«I know, crazy, isn't it? I haven't seen anything like this for years. I said to the girls that it was best to call you. You won't believe this, but I have found traces of sperm along with the blood. Either he is the most stupid man of all time, or he believes he is not yet in our DNA bank, and he hopes to get away with it. At least until the first time, he jumps a red light.»

«Time of death?»

«I'd say approximately between midnight and two o'clock. Poor woman, I admired her a lot: I would have liked to have met her but not under these circumstances. Today she was meant to go to Oceania to mediate the Australia-Polynesia crisis.»

«Yes, I know. I follow the news as well.»

«Ok. I know you're in a hurry to get answers. I'm going to the lab.»

«Azra? Keep me posted.» The captain turned back towards the sergeant. «Who is the woman I saw in the other room?»

«Her name is Georgette. She's the victim's assistant. Yesterday night, she'd accompanied her to a Women's Guild meeting, where she was awarded the prestigious international Demetra prize. She said they got back at around 11 pm and continued working until Etienne – a man the victim had been seeing recently – turned up. So she left them alone. But before leaving, she heard them argue. She arrived this morning at 7.30,» she added, scrolling through her electronic notepad. «Their flight was at 11 am. She said that first, she rang the doorbell, out of discretion, as she thought Etienne may still be in the house. Then she opened the door with her spare set of keys and went straight towards the living room to gather the last documents. That's when she saw the body and immediately called the emergency services.»

«Ok. I'll talk to her now. In the meantime, here are my instructions: I want to know the life and times of the victim. Send someone to take Etienne down to the station. I will interrogate him. Let him stew. Before going back, I want to speak to the president of the Guild.»

«Ok.»

«Oh, and call Emma back to work.»

«But she's on menstrual lea….»

«I know. But she did a Master in sexual homicide. I need her. And I know she wouldn't want to be out of a case like this.»

♀

She had just come out of the abbey when her phone rang. A friar, busy cleaning up the sacristy, had told her that the priestess would be back in an hour. So she had decided to go for a walk to take her mind off her abdomen's pain, which allowed her to pinpoint her kidneys and uterus' exact location. She had chosen not to take painkillers to test herself. Would she be able to cope with pregnancy and childbirth? From the age of 13, when she'd had her first period, she had been present – as tradition dictated – for the first birth of her life. Unfortunately, it had been that of her mother's younger sister, who had wanted to bring her first child into the world with fervent naturalism, amid spasms and screams of pain throughout 14 hours of labor. The dozen or so calm assisted births at which she had been present after that throughout her studies had not been enough to erase that memory. That experience was enough to make her hate naturalists in whichever field they applied their principles, place her aunt and the son she'd given birth to first and foremost in this category of stupid people, and put her off having children indefinitely.

She looked at the screen of her mobile. It was the office: they needed her. She was happy to be distracted from her thoughts. She quickened her pace so she could go home and get changed. And take a painkiller.

♀

«Good morning Georgette. I’m Jasmine, district captain of the Police. I need to ask you a couple of questions.» She sat down. It would be difficult interrogating her: Georgette’s face was disfigured by all her crying that she looked as if she’d been in tears all night instead of just for the last hour. «I’m at your service,» Georgette said, blowing her nose and trying to straighten up. She looked exhausted.

«How many years have you been working for Neeve?»

«For…nine.»

«Did she have daughters?»

«Yes, three. A daughter aged 8, a son aged 11, and her firstborn girl is 15.»

«I’ve been told that it was you who found the body. Where were the girls?»

«At Judge Alma’s. It was her shift this week for the condominium commune. And she’d offered for them to stay the night with her. She’s at circular number 3, a rich neighborhood, with two ‘condominium babysitters’ who even work at night and…»

«Two babysitters for only six villas? And how many of them during the day?»

«Two take it in turns to work in the morning as there are at least three newborns as well as the occasional girl who falls ill. In the afternoon, there are six of them, including female students and specialists. I think there are at least 20 minors in this block. There’s also a chef and two cleaning men...»

«Going back to last night…»

«Neeve had said goodbye to her girls at around 6.30 pm before going to the Guild dinner. So all three children went to the judge’s place. Neeve had promised to hug them again this morning before they went off to school. Then she had promised to video-call them as soon as the claustrum 1 for the peace was over. And instead,» tears welled up again. She started sobbing.

Jasmine stared at the painting behind the sofa in the room, which must have been the music room, as the piano and flute indicated. The picture was a copy of the famous fresco 'The Virgin Mary giving birth surrounded by midwives and little girls'.

Jasmine waited for Georgette to get her breath back.

«Any friction between them?»

«I wouldn’t say so. If there were any arguments, it was with Lea, the eldest. Neeve loves... loved to reconcile an argument with words. Lea is more physical; she has won trophies for kickboxing. But their quarrels were never serious.»

«What was the reason for the most recent one?»

Georgette smiled benevolently at the recollection. The small quarrel, which had been so trivial, seemed even more so at that moment: «Teenage matters. Three days ago, Lea came home with some strands of her raven hair dyed orange. Neeve had reproached her for having betrayed her trust. Just the evening before, she’d given her permission to take progressive coloring pills once she was 16. But Lea couldn’t resist. She tried to justify herself by referring to the body paint of the kickboxing warriors. But this didn’t save her from being grounded all the evenings for a week»

«Problems at work?»

«No. Neeve is… was highly respected in her field.»

«And in her love life?»

«She had been seeing a certain Etienne for the past six months.»

«What can you tell me about him?»

«Well, I know he was the secretary of some government official in the Foreign Ministry. Neeve had spent a couple of days in that office to carry out research, and he didn’t miss his chance.» Her tone became sharp, and her face stiffened.

«What do you mean?»

«She was a powerful woman who spoke five languages and traveled the world. He’s just a simple secretary, the type who brings you tea in the morning, schedules appointments, stores some data entry, and lives holed up in the office. Put it this way; it was the classic scenario of the male nurse falling in love with the doctoress, to raise his status with colleagues.»

«I understand. And how did Neeve feel about him?»

«We never spoke about men. I think she saw him about three or four times a week, appreciating his sexual skills, I suppose. What I mean is that I don’t think she was very emotionally involved. If I’m not mistaken, she kept him at a distance when she was on duty for the weekly condominium commune when she had to look after all the girls.»

«You said you heard them argue last night…»

«Yes. We’d just got back from the Guild dinner when Etienne arrived. I took leave and went to the hall to put my coat on. It took a couple of minutes as I had files that I needed to put in the overnight bag. He was the only one to raise his voice. Neeve never did. For a moment, I considered turning back. But then I thought that she was used to resolving far worse conflicts, and I left.»

«Did you manage to hear what they were talking about?»

Georgette started to well up again.

«Only a couple of words he said… Since finding Neeve’s body, I haven’t stopped thinking about them. First, he said, «I want a daughter by you» and then «I love you,» then in a more exasperated tone, «How can you do this to me? You’re just like all women.»

♀

«…I believe it’s right to have a 10% male quota in every council. Men also need representation.» Emma listened to the news on the radio while she drove to the Police headquarters. The voice was that of the mayoress. «The usual political lies,» she thought to herself. A thousand men would take to the streets in a couple of days and participate in a protest march to demand equal opportunities.

And nowadays, it seemed politically correct to give them space. As if a man could do anything beyond fixing a sink or be capable of dealing with a situation that goes beyond simple logic. As if he could ever bring a daughter into the world. It was, first of all, a biological question with which politics had nothing to do with.

«…In circular block number 3 of the Campo dei Fiori residential neighborhood, the body of Neeve, 38 years of age, United Nations Federation councilor, mother of three girls, was found dead. The captain of the Police District has just left the crime scene without commenting on the incident. How did Neeve die? Keep listening, and we’ll keep you updated.»

«My Goddess.» Now Emma knew why they had called her back to the office.

♀

The exclusive Women's Guild's international headquarters was in a large building whose red bricks stood out against white glass windows, surrounded by a perfect garden. Flecks of brightly colored flowers stood out among lush greenery, winding paths, and crystalline ponds. Jasmine arrived with a policeman in uniform.

When the secretary saw them enter, she smiled, slightly embarrassed.

«I am captain Jasmine. I need to see Egle, your chairwoman, as part of a police investigation. It's urgent.»

«I'll let her know right away.»

The captain turned around to look at the portraits and pictures hanging on the wall of women, some belonging to the Guild, who had made history: the first president of the nation, the first woman in space, the woman who discovered gravity, other famous scientists and artists.

The secretary came up beside her: «Chairwoman Egle will see you immediately. Please follow me.»

The captain set off, followed by the agent in uniform.

After a few steps, the secretary stopped and turned around with a gentle smile towards the captain: «As you know, only women are allowed in the Guild. He can wait here or in the car.»

Jasmine was used to these situations. «As you know, for the past ten years now, men have been allowed into the police force. Your behavior is discriminatory.»

Chairwoman Egle, who had come out, met the two policewomen with a diplomatic air but only shook Jasmine's hand.

«I am sure you understand. No man has ever had access to the Guild Hall in the history of this association. Nobody is running any risks, and I am sure you will able to carry out your investigation even if this officer is not here next to you to take notes.» She then nodded to the secretary, who moved away discreetly.

«And what about the gardener who is mowing the grass? And the waiters who are no doubt preparing lunch?» Jasmine said condescendingly. If it were up to her, men would never have been allowed into the police force. She was not able to entirely trust them. She considered them to have too little empathy to carry out a job that involved contact with people. They were deprived of intuition, motivated by too rough an instinct, all too ready to use guns. It was as though, by not generating life directly, they were also less careful at preserving it.

She was still shocked sometimes when she read their reports. The triviality with which they recorded events, their extreme logic. Furthermore, they'd had to build separate toilets for them. But they were there now. And she could not stand extremism of any sort.

The behavior of the chairwoman was persuasive but firm: «Exactly. We do not discriminate against anyone. We have male staff. But not one of them has ever entered the Guild Hall.»

Jasmine mentally counted to ten: she could have insisted, but then it would have been difficult to get her to cooperate. However, she wanted to make it clear that she would not allow herself to be manipulated.

«Ok. I've heard you have a splendid tea room, where you grow ancient bonsai trees. Perhaps all three of us could have a cup of tea together?»

«Some associates currently occupy the tea room, and there would not be sufficient privacy there. You can, however, admire it through the windows from one of the external verandas. I would be happy to offer you and your officer a cup of tea. Please follow me.»

Jasmine and Luca were just about to follow Egle when the phone rang. Jasmine answered. It was the office.

«Chief, it's Azra. I have the UNF secretary Jezabele on the line. She wants to talk to you. I told her you were busy and that you'd call her back as soon as possible, but she insisted.»

Jasmine turned towards the chairwoman: «I'm sorry, I'm afraid it's urgent. I must speak to someone. Alone.»

Egle replied with an understanding smile: «Of course.»

She opened one of the heavy wooden doors to the Guild Hall, opening it ever so slightly so that Luca could not manage to peep inside.

Jasmine nodded her head in thanks and slipped through the opening.

«Ok. Put me in connection.»

«You are being put through on an international video-telephone line which is protected by the UNF,» stated a metallic female voice.

«Good morning, captain,» began Jezabele. «Here in Tekao, it's the middle of the night. I was nevertheless informed of the tragic event. It's terrible. Among the women on my staff, Neeve was the one who had best learned how to balance her heart and mind. Her sense of sisterhood was boundless».

«Good morning Secretary,» Jasmine replied to the greeting of the woman who appeared on her video-phone screen. She could see real pain in those black, penetrating eyes. Jezabele was wearing a simple cotton nightgown, and her black, straight hair framed her face, marked by wrinkles, but which also exuded serenity.

«I need to know all about Neeve's work. Is it possible that someone might have wanted to kill her?».

As Jezabele spoke, she put her fingers through her hair: «Our job is a risky one. Mediating conflicts is always strenuous and difficult. Some women are unable to forgive and seek revenge or a scapegoat. I don't know; however, I don't recall there being any specific threats.»

«Could it be an attempt to undermine the peace claustrum?»

«No, I feel I can exclude it. Neeve had carried out an in-depth study about the origins of the dispute. She had already carried out investigative missions in the area to 'get a sense of the mood.' Four days ago, during a plenary session of the UNF Security Council aimed at outlining the potential development of the crisis, Neeve had proposed a brilliant, hopeful hypothesis of a clearing agreement which had been widely shared and supported.»

Jezabele took a deep breath. «It will be difficult to forge ahead without her, but… I'm used to seeing two sides of the coin in every situation. And absurdly, Neeve's death could amplify the purpose of her peace proposal and prepare us to listen even more carefully to the feelings of others rather than just their words.»

«I need to know all the details and speak to her other colleagues.» Jasmine interjected, «I can be there in a couple of hours if I take the first available flight…».

«No. You wouldn't make it in time. This afternoon we have the Welcome Ceremony for the Two Peoples, attended by the highest-level government representatives and broadcast throughout the world. At around 9 pm, after the communion dinner, I will assemble in the cloister with my 14 delegates, State heads from Australia and Polynesia,