I was surprised but not frightened when I found Beggiato sitting calmly on the couch. From the expression on his face I knew right away his intentions weren’t bad. On his knees lay the same daily Valiani brought me.
“How did you get inside?”
He showed me a jimmy. “Your lock’s worth shit. I advise you to change it before some Gypsies clean out your apartment.”
I placed the bags on the kitchen table. “What do you want?”
“How does it feel to become a murderer?”
“You tell me.”
“I understand about killing Oreste, but what the fuck did the woman have to do with it?”
The words popped right out of me. “She was his accomplice. She took his side. She let herself be fucked in the ass just to save him.”
“Maybe she loved him, and that’s all there was to it.”
“They were animals. Like you.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Justice.”
“Ah, you’re a fucking executioner like Charles Bronson.”
“I exercised my right.”
“Do you realize you’re a murderer?”
“You’re the murderer. I was the hangman.”
“You’re crazy, and I’m a dickhead. It’s all my fault.”
“What are you saying?”
“I was the one that shot your kid and your wife. You killed Oreste for nothing.”
“But you always pointed the finger at him.”
“That’s different. I was blaming a ghost to avoid a life sentence.”
“You were still accomplices. The punishment is the same, as the code stipulates.”
The murderer grinned in my face. “You want to kill me too?”
“No. The cancer will take care of you. And it’ll be worse. You’ll have time to see the darkness. Like my Clara. ‘Everything’s gone dark,’ she said before she died. ‘I’m scared.’”
“Chill out. You’ve got me spooked.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you.”
Beggiato clenched his fists, but then calmed down. “How did you kill them?”
“I beat them.”
“Like dogs.”
“Exactly. Like dogs.”
“What did you do with the bodies?”
“I buried them in the dump near the overpass.”
Beggiato remained silent a couple minutes. “I just can’t imagine how a ‘normal’ guy like you could’ve organized such a careful plan.”
“Clara guided me.”
“Clara?”
“Yes, my wife.”
He jumped to his feet. “You’re really out of your gourd! You’re like one of those crazy fuckers I was in jail with, the ones that have ‘diminished mental capacity.’”
“Stop talking bullshit and tell me what you want.”
“The money.”
“It’s already Valiani’s.”
“What the fuck does that cop have to do with it?”
“He figured out everything. Or almost. He’s blackmailing me. He wants the money by Monday, otherwise he’ll spill everything to the judge.”
Beggiato burst out laughing. “Apart from being crazy, you’re a fucking dope. The superintendent isn’t dirty; that bastard has never been on the take in his life. He’s drawing you into a trap to get some proof positive.”
“Maybe you’re right. But you’re not going to get the money.”
“I’ll go straight to the judge and report everything you told me.”
“Suit yourself. It’s your word against mine, lifer.”
Beggiato lit a cigarette. Then he poured himself a glass of Vecchia Romagna. “I could never turn you in. I’m no rat,” he said, resigned. “All the same, you’re fucked. Executioner my ass. How do you think you’re going to get away with it? Valiani’s got you cornered.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I don’t think you’ll enjoy my death much from a prison cell. You really don’t have a clue about what’s waiting for you.”
“No judge will have the courage to convict me.”
“Wake up, bud. They convict innocent people. It’s in your interest to find a good lawyer. Maybe with a psychiatrist’s report you can get off with twelve, fourteen years,” he said as he headed for the door. “Addio, asshole” was his goodbye.
I tossed the glass the murderer had used into the trash can, removed the cover from the couch where he sat, and stuffed it in the washer. Then I stretched out on the bed to think. The guilty weren’t the problem anymore. Now I had to confront the law. If Valiani wasn’t a dirty cop, as Beggiato claimed, then it meant he had no other evidence than what he’d stubbornly listed in the course of our meetings. It might be enough to drag me into the Court of Assizes or even to get me thrown into jail. Guided by Clara, I tried hard to organize a perfect plan precisely to avoid creating problems with the investigators. But I’d made a series of errors that didn’t escape Valiani. I reviewed the facts and hypotheses. In the end, I decided to trust Beggiato’s judgment and not give the money to the superintendent. I also decided that under no circumstances would I defend myself. The charge would’ve been so unjust as not to merit any consideration. I wouldn’t respond to any questions from the judges or the police. Silence would be my weapon to prevent the court from any possible confusion of justice with homicide. I felt peaceful and fell asleep. I dreamt that Clara was taking Enrico for a bike ride. They were smiling. They passed by without seeing me.
RAFFAELLO
Today’s Monday. Another shitty fucking day. Even free. I got to cross the street but can’t make up my mind. I’ll smoke another cigarette and then go. I decided to end this business once and for all. What a fucking mess. It’s all my fault. I’ve always put my foot in it. Always slipped up. Had fifteen years to think and my head’s full of shit. Contin’s gone off his rocker. Giorgia’s right: he’s a dangerous lunatic. When I left his place my blood ran cold. I felt like I was dead. That asshole calmly confessed he killed Oreste and his woman, “guided” by the wife Clara. ’Cept she’s dead and buried. I remember only too well when I shot her in the belly. He beat them to death. What a monster. That’s what he’s become. This business has got to be stopped forever. Four dead because of a fucking robbery—that’s too many. I’ll finish this cigarette, slip in that entrance and say the last word. Stop, that’s it. Up to me to do it. I’m the only one that can stop this business from going on forever. After the meeting with that freaky-deak Contin I started to think. Crossed the whole town trying to get my brain working, at least once. And finally everything was clear. I went to Giorgia’s. Told her I wanted to go to the sea. She understood. Whores got the gift of mind-reading. In the morning she got dressed up like a lady and picked me up in her car. We went to the Romagna coast. A place that’s packed with hotels. Nearly all of them empty this time of year. We got a room in a pretty little joint. Elegant and discreet. I wanted to go to the beach right away but Giorgia said she wanted to make love first. That’s how she put it. Not screw, fuck, or get dicked. Make love. She desired me. I felt like crying again and she licked the tears from my face. Then she got on top of me and slowly moved that big ass of hers, whispering sweet words that made me feel good. We took a long walk by the sea, didn’t say a word, just held hands. Every once in a while I stopped and looked in the distance, filling my eyes with life and freedom, and then she gave me a big hug. As usual I was flat broke but Giorgia thought of everything. In the afternoon she took me to a boutique and dressed me from head to toe. For dinner we went to a top-drawer restaurant. Some TV star was there, eating with a dynamite chick. We drank champagne. Lots of it. I cased the joint and saw only wealth and people having a blast. I had cancer, working to do me in even then, plus four corpses and that fucking nut Contin all spinning around my brain and none of it seemed real anymore. At times I told myself I was just like everybody else. Giorgia was running off at the mouth. But she never brought up anything ugly. She talked like a wife. I don’t know if she was faking it or if l
ike me she was taking advantage of that seaside trip to put her shitty life behind her. I just don’t know. I know only that when I die I’ll think of her. That night in bed I couldn’t get it up. Too much champagne. That really made me feel like shit. She told me not to worry about it. She cuddled me like a baby and the next morning my dick was hard as a rock. She started giving me head when I was still asleep. What a way to wake up, kiddo! When I took a shower I felt a little sad thinking I could’ve had her at my side if I didn’t kill that mamma and her son. Saturday night we went dancing. Ballroom dancing. I didn’t remember a step, looked like a bear at the circus. We laughed so much. And drank. The next morning we went back to the beach. I took off my shoes and socks and went into the water. It was freezing. But I didn’t feel a thing. In front of me stood only sea and sky. I started to walk out till Giorgia grabbed me by the shoulders. “Where are you going, amore?” she asked and just then I realized the water had reached my waist.
That’s when I told her what I decided to do. “Why?” she asked me.
“It’s hard to explain. I told you only so you won’t think bad of me.”
We went back to town in the dead of night and I was wasted with sadness. She wanted me to stay and sleep at her place but I had to say goodbye to mamma. Giorgia started crying, kissed me on the forehead, and went back to being a whore. Today’s Monday. Another shitty fucking day. The cigarette’s done and I got to make a decision. Before leaving I hugged mamma. She cried too. I’m really fed the fuck up now. And I’m heading across this motherfucking street.
SILVANO
I spent all Sunday morning at the cemetery. I cleaned the graves and spoke to Clara and Enrico. It was a beautiful day, and the sun crept between the stones and statues, creating strange luminous effects. On my way back home I stopped at the rosticceria and the newstand. The headlines about the Siviero case still took up a good part of the front page. Aside from the usual interviews with relatives and neighbors, there wasn’t any news worth noting. A well-informed “source” had leaked the hypothesis of a double crime devised by the criminal underworld. I cleaned the house from top to bottom and towards evening packed a bag with clothes, pajamas, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. Then I went to sleep. I was very tired.
Monday morning I opened the shop as usual. I slid the bag under the counter and started to serve customers, waiting for Valiani to arrive. The superintendent didn’t turn up. Not even in the afternoon. I thought he’d show later. But I waited for him all night, sitting in front of the TV. I was puzzled. I didn’t know what to think. While I was shaving, I convinced myself that Valiani had understood the meaning of my actions. But I was wrong. I realized when I opened the newspaper. “Breakthrough on the Double Homicide. Suspect in Custody.”
RAFFAELLO
That shitface Valiani gave me a wicked kick in the shins. “What the fuck are you making up?” he started to shout. “Nothing, superintendent. I’ve come to give myself up.” He got even more angry. Turned red in the face and repeated Contin was the one that killed Oreste and his wife. “Why?” he kept on asking. “Why are you sacrificing yourself for him? What’s the point? You realize they’ll throw you back in jail and you’ll croak like a dog in the clinic?” Yep, like a dog. Like Oreste and Daniela. I couldn’t really explain why to him. I had to play dickhead till nightfall. The superintendent wanted to fuck over Contin but I couldn’t let that happen. The whole business would’ve gone on forever. They’d make me go back to court and testify and I didn’t want to do that. The truth was I felt sorry for Contin. I saw so many lifers go crazy from desperation and he was just like them. Sentenced to a life of pain. It was all my fault. I killed his wife and kid, I didn’t have the courage to admit it so I accused my partner, and I set in motion the mechanism that led him to track down Oreste. I sure felt sorry for him but I couldn’t explain it to Valiani. He wouldn’t understand. He thinks like a cop. The good guys belong on the outside, the bad guys on the inside. Contin wasn’t made for jail. He couldn’t survive and the madness would devour him whole. Nobody takes care of the crazies in jail. Not even in the hospital for the criminally insane. Just the fact they’re kept locked up drives them out of their heads even more. No. Contin shouldn’t end up in a cell. Nobody would save him. Besides, he’s got a right to a second chance. They always denied me that. On the outside he can get it. He can realize he’s a murderer and get his shit together. Paying for him is my way of making amends for the evil I did. I couldn’t tell the superintendent all this. He kept on slapping me till my face was swollen. Wanted me to retract. Finally he asked me, “How d’you kill them?”
“I beat them,” was my answer.
“Where’d you bury them?”
“In the dump near the overpass.”
Then he started to think. Gave me a strange look. Even he seemed nuts. “If we don’t find them,” he said, “it means you’ve made up everything. You’ll get charged for it, and I’ll kick your ass all the way home. But if you’re telling the truth, it means you talked to Contin. Only he could’ve told you where he hid the bodies.”
“Come off it, superintendent,” I said. “Contin has nothing to do with it. It was me. Oreste wanted to take my share so I laid him out. Him and his whore.”
“What kind of deal did you make? What did he promise you?” He was almost begging me to give him an answer.
They found the bodies at night, digging with a bulldozer and beaming the ground with photoelectric cells. I was there, handcuffed to a steering wheel. They also found an axe handle dirty with blood. I signed the confession and now I’m back in jail. Valiani did all he could to reason with the judge but the judge laughed in his face. The superintendent slammed his badge down on the desk and left.
I did what I had to do. I feel like shit but I don’t give a fuck. It’s only a question of time before the cancer fixes me forever. Before going to the police station I stopped in the cathedral. There was a sign that read “Penitents” and under it the times for confession. I knelt down and told the priest I killed a woman and a child, did a stretch in prison, and now I was going back to die there. He assured me I had God’s forgiveness. Good to know. You can never be sure what you’ll find when you close your eyes forever. I asked him what he knew of that business about the darkness, what Contin was telling me. The priest’s answer was God is light. Up your ass, Contin. Fuck that priest too. I already told the judge I won’t go to the trial. They got the confession so they can do without me. Soon they’re going to transfer me to the clinic. At this point I can hardly wait. I’m writing a letter to mamma. Asking her to forgive me and not to come see me anymore. I couldn’t bear her suffering. As always she got fucked over. Now she has to deal with a son that’s got four deaths on his conscience. Poor mamma. Today’s Tuesday. Pasta, stew, vegetable. In a little while they’ll do the cell check. And then the janitor should drop by with a little dope the guys in the block gave me, something to console me for being back in jail. Let’s hope it’s a decent taste. So I spend the afternoon zonked and don’t think about a fucking thing.
SILVANO
I couldn’t believe Beggiato turned himself in and confessed to killing Oreste Siviero and his wife. He had no reason to do it. I read all the dailies and followed the news on the radio and the TV. It unleashed polemics and attacks against the surveillance judge. Presotto’s article was distinguished by its bitter tone. The title was: “We Told You So.” According to the judge responsible for the investigation, the confession was missing details, but this was to be attributed to the state of the accused’s health. The bodies were discovered where Beggiato said they’d be, and that removed any doubt concerning his guilt. The motive was clear as well. Siviero had decided to hang on to his partner’s share of the loot, provoking a homicidal rage. This was precisely the term used by the coroner who carried out the autopsies. He added that rarely had he seen bodies treated like that. Beggiato found himself back in prison, and he’d never leave again. Not even if the cancer spared him. The oncologist who was responsible
for supervising the chemotherapy treatments ruled it out with absolute certainty. Beggiato would die in prison as I’d always wished he would.
But I was confused. Clara couldn’t even help me understand why he wanted to save me. I didn’t want to be beholden to him, but I couldn’t deny how relieved I felt. And this made me uneasy. Nor could Valiani help me. He stopped by Heels in a Jiffy about ten days later. I was expecting his visit, even though I knew he was no longer on the force. I’d read a short notice where his early retirement was announced.
“I really can’t imagine what kind of deal you made with that dumbass Beggiato.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t help you.”
“You aren’t the first guilty person I’ve seen get away with it. But I assure you I won’t stop trying to find out why.”
“The problem is you didn’t want to understand from the beginning.”
“Really? I’m afraid you’re sick in the head, Signor Contin. You’re also untouchable, sad to say. I have to admit you were right when you argued no judge would have the courage to drag you into court. Down at the police station and the prosecutor’s office, everyone’s ecstatic about Beggiato’s confession, even though it’s clear as day he’s innocent.”
“Everyone but you.”
“In fact, when I asked if they looked for your prints on the murder weapon and the plastic sheets, they forced me to retire. The case is closed.”
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