The Sacco Gang

by Andrea Camilleri

  Alfonso, having leapt nimbly down from his mule, also begins firing wildly.

  Terrified by the shots, the mare carrying Luigino starts galloping wildly away, as the little boy cries desperately, gripping the saddle with both hands.

  Vanni and Alfonso lose sight of him, but they now feel less worried because the horse, all things considered, has managed to take the boy out of the range of the bullets.

  As the shoot-out continues, some unexpected help arrives.

  It’s their brother, Salvatore, who had hopped on a horse and rode out of town to join his brothers and lend them a hand in moving the animals.

  Salvatore, in fact, finds himself in an advantageous position—that is, behind the attackers.

  Without batting an eye, he starts shooting.

  At this point the attackers, realizing they’re practically surrounded, drop everything and run away.

  The three brothers are unharmed and so start looking immediately for the little boy, whose cries and weeping are no longer audible.

  They find him soon enough, unconscious on the ground, in a pool of blood.

  Bounced from the saddle, Luigino had fallen, striking his head sharply against a boulder at the side of the road.

  The fall will cost him his eyesight.

  He will remain blind for the rest of his life.

  He is the first innocent victim.

  This only strengthens the Saccos’ resolve. They now have one more reason never to give in to the Mafia.

  *

  Less than three days later, on Saturday evening, when returning to town on horseback from the countryside, holding his five-year-old son in front of him in the same saddle, Carmelo Gambino, Vanni Sacco’s brother-in-law, is shot twice and falls dead to the ground.

  Since Carmelo Gambino was known by all as a man with a heart of gold who had no enemies and minded his own business, everyone in town is at first convinced that the murder was an act of indirect vengeance against the Saccos.

  But this isn’t the case.

  It’s much subtler than that.

  In fact, a few days later, the Saccos are informed by the Carabinieri that they must immediately present themselves at the station.

  All five?

  All five.

  The marshal wants them to tell him where they were on the evening Gambino was killed.

  Questioned one by one and kept separate from one another the whole time, to prevent them from communicating, the Saccos all give the same exact answer.

  That evening, they, along with a great many friends, were all at the home of an aunt of theirs, just outside of town.

  And this can be attested not only by the people who were with them, but also by the many who saw them on their way there and exchanged a few words with them.

  To get to the spot where Gambino was murdered from that aunt’s house, it would take a good hour and a half on horseback.

  It’s an ironclad alibi.

  The marshal is convinced the Sacco brothers had nothing whatsoever to do with the killing.

  “All right, you can go.”

  “Wait a second,” says Vanni. “There’s something you have to tell us.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Who told you that we were the ones who killed Carmelo?”

  “An anonymous letter,” the marshal replied.

  And he shows it to him.

  This confirms the Saccos’ suspicion that the Mafia will seek another means through which to force them to surrender: setting the justice system in motion against them, charging them with crimes they never committed.

  It’s an intelligent strategy that was certainly not the brainchild of the local Mafia boss, who’s just a coarse, ferocious killer. Behind the move it’s not hard to surmise the mind of the famous lawyer who serves as the mafiosi’s guide and inspiration.

  Alfonso comments:

  “That day at the Carabinieri office we realized they wanted to get rid of us in any way possible: either with rifles or with the law. What else could we expect now?” Salvatore, meanwhile, with great courage and much patience, has managed to find out the names of those who, on that Carnival Wednesday, laid the ambush that led to the blinding of poor little Luigino.

  And to the Carabinieri he brings not only their names, but a good deal of proof so solid that the three attackers are immediately arrested.

  That’s when the Mafia (it’s becoming clearer and clearer that they are implementing a specific scheme hatched by the lawyer) decide to play their winning card.

  *

  On the seventh of May 1922, Giovanni and Alfonso go to the Carabinieri compound to see if Alfonso’s new gun license has arrived. By now the family’s youngest has come of age, and he no longer needs the permit subject to his father’s approval.

  Just as they are entering the building, right in the doorway, they run into the marshal and another officer.

  “What a coincidence!” the marshal says to Giovanni. “I was just on my way to your house!”

  “But now I’m here. What did you want?”

  “Come with me.”

  He leads him into his office and tells Alfonso to wait in the hallway.

  Inside the marshal’s office Vanni finds another man, a peasant with a beret on his head.

  His name is Giuseppe Nicosia, and he has a prior record of conviction for theft and attempted murder.

  Vanni, who knows the man only by sight, first thinks the marshal is going to dismiss Nicosia so he can speak alone with him. But the peasant remains seated, casting hostile glances at Giovanni.

  The marshal sits down behind his desk and begins talking.

  He informs Vanni that Nicosia came there to tell him that the previous night, five people—one, the leader, dressed in civilian clothes and the others disguised as municipal police—burst into his home in the country and stole three cows and one donkey.

  Nicosia says he tried to react, but the leader, the one dressed in civvies, whose face was also hidden, struck him violently in the head with the butt of his rifle.

  In so doing, the man’s bandana fell from his face, and Nicosia was able to recognize him.

  “Why are you telling me this?” asks Vanni.

  “Because you were the masked man who injured me!” Nicosia shouts at him.

  A cudgel blow to the head would have had less effect on Vanni.

  But he recovers at once and keeps his cool, because he realizes that this time the trap that has been laid for him is extremely dangerous. He reacts quite calmly, and with straightforward logic.

  First, he asks the marshal to order Nicosia to remove the cap from his head, so they can see the marks of the violence he claims he was subjected to. But the peasant promptly changes his story, saying he was struck not in the head but on the shoulder.

  Giovanni then points out an inconsistency in the man’s version of things. If his bandana fell from his face and Nicosia recognized him, how come he, Vanni, didn’t just kill the guy to prevent him from reporting him?

  The peasant sputters an explanation, claiming wildly that Vanni did indeed shoot at him but missed, allowing him the time he needed to escape.

  Vanni then turns directly to the marshal.

  He asks what interest he could possibly have in going and stealing three cows and one donkey.

  He’s a rich landowner and has all the cows and donkeys he needs.

  But it’s no use.

  Nicosia swears up and down that he’s telling the truth.

  Vanni, at this point, sees red, bolts out of his chair, grabs Nicosia, and starts punching him in the face.

  With some effort, the marshal manages to restrain him.

  Moments later, a bewildered Alfonso sees Giovanni come out of the office in handcuffs, flanked by two carabinieri.

  The marshal calls him a
t once into his office.

  He explains to Alfonso what his brother is accused of, but makes it clear that he doesn’t believe the accusation.

  And, as if to confirm his skepticism, he takes from a drawer of his desk the revolver he’d just confiscated from Giovanni and turns it over to Alfonso, along with his new gun permit.

  *

  At this point Luigi, the paterfamilias, seeing that the matter is quite serious and threatens to sully the family’s good name, hires two of the most famous criminal lawyers of the time to defend Vanni.

  One is none other than Angelo Abisso, a prince of the courtroom, a well-known, dogged representative of the Fascist movement and a future deputy in Parliament, who agrees without hesitation to defend Vanni.

  Vanni, moreover, has meanwhile revealed to the investigating magistrate the names of the two witnesses who were with him at the exact moment Nicosia claims he was assaulted.

  The first is named Salvatore Tuttolomondo, a wealthy peasant who had gone to talk to him about renting a portion of the land of the Baron Spoto.

  The second is Luigi Macedonio, a partner of Vanni’s in the company that owns the Raffadali-Girgenti line, who was at Vanni’s house that evening to discuss raising the bus fare.

  Both are men with clean records whose testimony would clearly help tip the scales in Vanni’s favor.

  It all seems off to the best possible start when some incredible things begin to happen.

  Tuttolomondo, the first witness for the defense, is murdered on his way back into town from the countryside where he works.

  Three days later, Luigi Macedonio, the second witness, is shot dead in the central square of Raffadali.

  And so Vanni is deprived of his principal witnesses.

  Then, inexplicably, or perhaps all too explicably, the two lawyers fail to show up on the day of the hearing.

  Clearly somebody has persuaded them to drop the case.

  Abisso was a frontline Fascist, and no doubt the mafiosi turned to their Fascist cronies to persuade Abisso to stay home, claiming illness, rather than show up at the hearing.

  In addition, the two lawyers never return the formidable advances Luigi had paid out to them.

  Alfonso notes:

  “At least poor Renzo Tramaglino got his four capons back through the efforts of Quibbleweaver the lawyer, who realized he was dealing with the bravoes of Don Rodrigo.3 And yet all across Italy so many lawyers still protect the Don Rodrigos more than their poor victims!”

  In the end, Giovanni is convicted of armed robbery and sent to the Girgenti prison.

  Only him, though, because his four accomplices were never identified, for the simple reason that they never existed.

  The Mafia, this time, managed to play their cards well.

  *

  And, flush with their courtroom victory, they have the nerve to write another letter to old Luigi.

  Aren’t you getting tired of everything that’s been happening to you? the Mafia ask him.

  When will you make up your mind to take the more moderate path, so this time we won’t have to kill someone from your immediate family? This will be our last message. From now on you would do best to seek us out yourself.

  This letter, too, like the previous ones, receives no reply.

  Alfonso writes:

  “With my brother Giovanni now out of the way, our enemies think they will bend us more easily to their will; but we carry on working our land as before, taking the same precautions.”

  And these precautions will enable the Saccos, who have acquired the instincts of hunted animals, to thwart two ambushes before they could turn into firefights.

  But it’s a life that can’t go on for long.

  One can’t work the earth as if going to war.

  3A reference to a situation in Alessandro Manzoni’s 19th-century novel, The Betrothed. (t.n.)

  V

  TWO MYSTERIES: THE FATHER’S DEATH

  AND GIOVANNI’S ESCAPE

  Some time later, Vanni Sacco is transferred from Girgenti Prison to the one in Aragona.

  Aragona is much closer to Raffadali, and so family members are now able to visit regularly every Sunday, as the law allows.

  But there’s a rather big problem . . .

  The road that leads out of Raffadali in the direction of Aragona is such that it presents the Mafia with a number of possibilities for laying ambushes, and the Sacco brothers don’t feel much like traveling that road on the appointed days and times.

  Knowing the day and the hour in which the Saccos will set out, and the route they will be forced to take, the Mafia can easily lie in wait for them and finish them off.

  The family are, however, intent on making sure their imprisoned brother still feels their warmth and presence. Vanni is a strong man, but the injustice to which he has fallen victim has very nearly made him ill.

  The Saccos hold a family meeting, at the conclusion of which they decide that the person who will go and visit Vanni in prison every Sunday morning will be the head of the family, Luigi.

  He’s seventy-two years old at this point. Who would ever want to harm him? Anyway, doesn’t the Mafia code of honor oblige them to respect the elderly, women, and children?

  And so, every Sunday morning, Luigi heads out on horseback for Aragona and returns to Raffadali around noontime, after speaking with Vanni in jail.

  *

  One afternoon in late May 1923, Salvatore and Alfonso, while working the fields despite the fact that it’s a Sunday, look up to see a peasant they know, a certain Tabone, rushing towards them. In tears, he tells them that their father, on his way back from Aragona, was seen lying on the ground outside the gates of town, having fallen from his horse.

  Vincenzo, meanwhile, is informed by some other peasants while relaxing in a café in Raffadali, and rushes to the scene with a friend to see what’s happened.

  Arriving there before Salvatore and Alfonso, Vincenzo finds his father unconscious and can’t tell whether he’s alive or dead, though he has no visible injury.

  His first impression is that his father has fallen from his horse.

  With the friend’s help, he takes him to their home in town and immediately calls a doctor.

  But the physician can do nothing but affirm that he is looking at a corpse.

  “But what did our father die of?” Alfonso asks for all of them.

  “Natural causes.”

  And he begins writing a notification of death by cardiac arrest.

  Flustered by what the doctor has just said, Salvatore points out to him that this is all very strange, given the fact that their father had never been sick and, indeed, after undergoing a medical exam barely a month before by another doctor, the latter had been pleased to find him in good health and with a heart that worked like a clock despite his advanced age.

  The doctor only shrugs by way of reply. To him it looks like an utterly natural death, and there is little to discuss.

  Meanwhile, however, the three brothers exchange glances, asking one another in silence, with only their eyes, what that horrible bluish swelling forming under their father’s chin, all around his neck, could mean.

  And together, still with their eyes, they all give each other the same answer: it’s a clear sign that their father was strangled.

  It must have taken three men, at the very least, to kill him: two to hold him down, since the old man was still a tall, hearty, strong specimen, and another to wring his neck with both hands.

  But the brothers choose to remain silent. They don’t raise any questions or doubts, and accept the doctor’s report without protest.

  After they’re left alone with their father, they have a better look at him. And if they had any remaining doubt as to how their father was killed, this is now dispelled.

  *

  But why did the
Mafia have Luigi strangled instead of gunning him down?

  And why, by murdering Luigi—that is, an old man of seventy-two—did they violate their own code of honor, which until now they’d always respected?

  Had they shot him, it would have been clear to everyone that he had been murdered. And the local Mafia would have lost credibility in the eyes of the population for not obeying their own rules.

  By strangling him, there was a chance the death would be judged to be from natural causes and therefore not make too many waves.

  Was the doctor in cahoots with the Mafia? Or was he simply someone who didn’t know his profession very well? Whatever the case, he ended up doing what the Mafia wanted.

  *

  But the Mafia didn’t only want to cover up that it had murdered Luigi, making him pay with his life for his firm, courageous refusal to bend to their will; they had another purpose, perhaps the main one.

  With Luigi gone, his brothers would now have to be the ones to visit Vanni in jail. And they would be easy targets for the mafiosi lying in wait along the Raffadali-Aragona road.

  This was the second reason Luigi was killed.

  *

  How, then, will they maintain weekly contact with Vanni, who is the brains, the unquestioned head of the family, especially now that Luigi is dead?

  While they’re discussing this question, the news that Luigi Sacco was strangled reaches the prison of Aragona, where Vanni, his son, can do nothing but weep in grief and powerlessness.

  *

  One afternoon, Vanni, sitting on the floor in a corner of his cell, head in his hands, looks up by chance and has the impression that the guard, having come by a short while earlier to check the solidity of the window bars, forgot to lock the cell door properly. Taking a closer look, he realizes in astonishment that the door is actually ajar!

  But he decides to remain seated on the floor, as if he hasn’t noticed the oddity.