The Cold Summer Page 9

  QUESTION What have Garibaldi, Mazzini and La Marmora got to do with a criminal organization?

  ANSWER In the tradition of the ’Ndrangheta, which was later taken up by our Apulian organizations, Garibaldi, Mazzini and La Marmora are considered the founders of the Santa. I am unable to tell you the reason, although an elderly Calabrian did once tell me that the ’Ndrangheta began during the Risorgimento as the Carboneria. It was not an argument that interested me, and I did not look any further into it.

  QUESTION Let us go back to who was present.

  ANSWER Grimaldi, a Calabrian named Barreca, who was the highest in rank, and a man from Foggia named Agnello or Agnelli, who was killed a few years later. The ceremony is much more complicated than a simple affiliation and requires among other things the use of various objects. The three members of the capriata –the name we use to refer to the group of persons who carry out the affiliation or the promotion – and the initiate sit around a table on which there have to be a cyanide pill (in ceremonies conducted in prison, a normal pill is used) which symbolizes the suicide the santista must be ready to commit rather than betray the organization; a sawn-off shotgun (in prison, this is represented by a plastic fork with only two prongs), to be used to shoot the initiate in the mouth if he betrays; a ball of cotton wool, which symbolizes Mont Blanc, that is, a sacred thing; a lemon, which is used to treat the members’ wounds; a needle that represents weapons and is used to prick the initiate; a sacred image; three white silk handkerchiefs, which symbolize purity of heart; and the “portions”, that is, pastries or cigarettes.

  QUESTION Was the formula the same?

  ANSWER No, for every transition from one rank to another there are different formulas and rituals. As I said, I know them all by heart and over the years I have taken part in numerous affiliations, reciting said formulas. The ceremony for conferring the Santa is complicated: the blood and the lemon are mixed, the image is burnt, a lot of things are done and it all lasts quite a long time. If you like, I can describe it in detail.

  QUESTION Let us move on for now. We can proceed with a detailed description of these rituals at a later stage. Let us go back: what are the conditions of eligibility for the organization?

  ANSWER There are positive requirements – having shown that you are a man of action, reliable, able to respect omertà and of good conduct in general – and negative requirements. Basically, you must not be a member of any law enforcement agency, or a relative of a member of any law enforcement agency, and you must not be a drug addict or a homosexual. I should make it clear that when I say drug addict I mean heroin addict; they are particularly unreliable because when they are without their fix they are capable of anything, even talking to the police or the Carabinieri.

  QUESTION So there is no bar against those who take other forms of narcotics, or those who are heavy drinkers?

  ANSWER With cocaine and marijuana, there has never been a problem. We all consumed a lot of cocaine, and I would even say it was our principal pastime – along with going with prostitutes – when we were together. As for drinking, the question is evaluated on a case-by-case basis. There is no problem with the consumption of alcohol, even heavy consumption, but an alcoholic, a real drunk, cannot be affiliated.

  QUESTION What if someone becomes an alcoholic or a drug addict after being affiliated?

  ANSWER That can be a major problem. In the rare cases where that happened, the individuals were disposed of. Once I was forced to kill a young man who had started consuming heroin daily and had become a risk. As I have already said, heroin addicts can easily become police informers.

  7

  D’Angelo left with the loyal Calcaterra and two other carabinieri who had been assigned to her by the colonel while waiting for the prefecture to decide about giving her bodyguards. Nobody thought of underestimating Grimaldi’s “bad intentions” towards her.

  Pellecchia and Montemurro accompanied Lopez to the Carabinieri station on the edge of town where he was being housed and kept under surveillance, even though not officially in custody.

  The captain invited Fenoglio to get something from the canteen.

  “Sometimes I think our work is a mixture of the tragic and the ridiculous,” he said, knocking back a glass of Prosecco.

  “In what sense, sir?”

  “I was thinking about what we write in transcripts and reports. Today, for example, in a phrase attributed to Lopez, there was mention of criminal cliques. Obviously he would never have used the word ‘clique’ himself, although I must say, he’s one of the most intelligent criminals I’ve ever met.”

  Valente really was a strange officer: he seemed to be playing – with some difficulty – a role that wasn’t his, a role he couldn’t get used to.

  “You’re right, it’s a surreal language. Have you ever read Calvino?”

  “I read The Baron in the Trees in high school, but didn’t like it very much. Actually, my favourite is The Nonexistent Knight.”

  “Mine, too. We all identified with Agilulf.”

  “Why did you ask me about Calvino?”

  “Many years ago he wrote an article in a newspaper, I can’t remember which one. He imagined the transcript of a witness statement about the theft of some bottles of wine. The witness says: early this morning, and the sergeant takes it down as: in the early ante meridiem hours; the witness talks about lighting the stove, and the sergeant takes it down as: activation of the thermal equipment; the witness says: I found bottles of wine, and the sergeant takes it down as: I made a chance discovery of a number of oenological products. And so on.”

  The captain smiled. “Very true to life.”

  “Yes, completely true to life and very amusing. If I can find it, I’ll show it to you. The most interesting thing, though, is what Calvino says about why transcripts are written in that way.”

  “Why?”

  “Calvino talks about what he calls semantic terror. The idea is that the language of transcripts should avoid words with common, concrete meanings because the person writing wants unconsciously to emphasize that he’s on a higher level than the material things he happens to be dealing with. It’s an attempt to keep a distance from the concreteness of the real world. Anti-language, Calvino calls it. A language far from meaning and far from life.”

  The captain had his glass refilled. He took another sip. Fenoglio played with an olive and ate it. Twice, the captain seemed on the verge of saying something and twice he thought better of it.

  “It seems correct, yes. But maybe he simplifies too much. Maybe he’s imposing an ideological interpretation.”

  It was certainly impressive to hear a captain in the Carabinieri, a career officer, talking about ideological interpretations.

  “Why does it strike you as ideological?”

  “I think reducing everything to the transcriber’s supposed sense of superiority over the material being transcribed is, as I said, simplifying it a little. There are also practical reasons. If I have to make a summary transcript, which by definition doesn’t contain every word that’s been said, I’m forced to use words that summarize, even though they may not fully correspond to the vocabulary of the person speaking.”

  “I agree. But we need to be very aware of what’s being done. D’Angelo’s good, Lopez is intelligent, and these interviews are going well. Apart from anything else, I think he’s so bright that he’s learning as she takes the statement. I won’t be surprised if we hear him using expressions like ‘criminal cliques’ in court.”

  What a bizarre dialogue, Fenoglio thought. A captain and a marshal in the Carabinieri discussing linguistic niceties in the context of an interview with a homicidal Mafioso. Like news from a parallel world.

  “But leaving D’Angelo and Lopez aside,” Fenoglio resumed after this quick private digression, “it doesn’t generally take much for an overly formal transcript, caused by the reasons Calvino spoke about, to twist the meaning of what the witness or the suspect said.”

  They were both si
lent for a while.

  “We don’t often get the opportunity to have this kind of conversation in a place like this,” the captain said.

  “No, you’re right,” Fenoglio replied.

  “There was a game I used to play when I was a child. I’d choose a word and repeat it out loud lots of times until it lost its meaning and became just a sequence of letters.” “I did that, too,” Fenoglio said.

  “Yes, I think it’s quite common. I sometimes still do it even now. It’s interesting – even quite scary – to see how fragile the link is between things and words. The world is based on the connection between words and things, but it’s a connection that can be broken in two minutes with a child’s game. I’ve always said to myself: it must mean something, something important. But I’ve never quite figured out what.”

  Language is a convention, an implicit pact between people. There is no law of nature that says that a certain sequence of signs – consonants and vowels – corresponds to a particular object. That’s the fascinating and slightly frightening aspect of the matter. Fenoglio thought these things, but didn’t say them. After a long pause – and after finishing his drink – it was the captain who spoke again.

  “I don’t think I’ll be an officer in the Carabinieri all my life. I ended up in this job, but I never thought I was right for it, not even at the start.”

  “This may be armchair philosophy, but I think certain jobs should be done by those who don’t feel right for it, to use your expression. Feeling a little out of place helps to make us more vigilant. Someone who feels absolutely right for it, for example, doesn’t notice the absurdity of the way we write transcripts. He doesn’t notice important details.”

  “I’d never thought of it that way.”

  “Nor had I. It’s an idea that came to me as I spoke.”

  “How old are you, marshal?”

  “Forty-one.”

  “I’m thirty-five. As a boy I thought I’d be a famous stage actor by now. What about you?”

  “I think I’d have liked to write. Journalist or novelist, it was all the same in my imagination. The idea was that I would earn my living writing, one way or another.”

  Valente nodded, as if that was exactly the answer he’d been expecting. “In some ways, it’s what you do. Your reports are the best I’ve ever read.”

  Fenoglio had always been uncomfortable with compliments. He didn’t know what to say and felt compelled to change the subject. “Can I ask you a question, sir?”

  “Of course.”

  “You call all your subordinates, even the twenty-year-olds, by their rank and surname. Why?”

  The captain smiled, like a little boy caught in the act. “It makes me seem unfriendly, doesn’t it? The men think I’m arrogant and like to keep my distance, I know. But let me tell you an anecdote. Once, when I was a child, I went with my parents to visit some friends of theirs. They were landowners, they had a farm and children who were older than me: the oldest might have been sixteen. At a certain point, I heard that boy call an old farm labourer by his first name, and give him orders, and the old man reply by calling him sir. I’ve never forgotten the sense of unease that scene gave me. Maybe it’s because of that episode that I can’t bring myself to call someone by his first name if I can’t tell him to do the same to me. And I think you’ll agree that it wouldn’t be a good idea if I told all the men they can call their captain by his first name.”

  “No, you’re right, it wouldn’t be a good idea,” Fenoglio replied with a smile.

  8

  Over the following two days, Lopez told them the story of his criminal career. Above all, to explain his gradual rise in importance and prestige within the organization, he told them, in chronological order, about the murders for which he was directly responsible. In this kind of investigation, there’s a basic rule: you want to cooperate with the law and obtain the corresponding benefits? Then talk first about what you’ve done, maybe things you weren’t even suspected of. It’s a basic prerequisite if you want to be believed about everything else.

  The second murder, after Curly, was that of a night-watchman who had refused to let the members of the Grimaldi clan into a household appliance warehouse to commit a robbery. Such an act of rebellion was intolerable and could not remain unpunished. Grimaldi ordered him to be kneecapped. Lopez and two other members were assigned to the job. They waited for the guard outside his building and shot him in the legs, but one bullet severed the femoral artery. The man bled to death before he could reach the emergency ward.

  When Grimaldi found out what had happened he said that, when it came down to it, it was better that way. The lesson would be clearer to everybody.

  The third murder was that of the member who had become a heroin addict. They had told him to stop; they had even told him to go to a detox clinic. He had replied that he didn’t need to, that he did a little heroin every now and again, but that he wasn’t an addict and could stop whenever he liked. He even became aggressive and disrespectful. He ate and drank in the bars and restaurants of Santo Spirito without paying. He took heroin on credit from a dealer in the Libertà neighbourhood, providing as guarantee his status as a member of Grimaldi’s organization. He didn’t pay the debt. They saw him on several occasions talking to narcotics officers – a very bad sign. The last straw was a robbery of a supermarket whose owner regularly paid monthly protection and who, quite rightly, went to Grimaldi and complained: You swore to me that if I paid, nothing would happen, and now this? Grimaldi told him he was right, which meant he wouldn’t have to pay the monthly instalment until he had recovered the amount stolen. The incident wouldn’t happen again, he concluded.

  Two days went by and the junkie was shot down by Lopez and Capocchiani as he was coming out of a café after breakfast. For the last time without paying.

  The fourth murder had been committed as a favour to the bosses of the clan in charge in Cerignola, with whom Grimaldi was negotiating to acquire large quantities of narcotics from Milan. There was a war in progress between the Cerignola people and a rival group. The Big Boys (this was the name the four bosses of the Cerignola clan went by) wanted to settle the matter. The idea was to eliminate the boss of the rival group in the most spectacular and terrifying way, and there is no more spectacular and terrifying way than a killing bang in the centre of town, with people around and in broad daylight. For an operation of that kind, you need someone from outside who, even in broad daylight, won’t run the risk of being accidentally recognized, perhaps by a local police officer or carabiniere. So the Big Boys asked Grimaldi to do them the honour, as a mark of consideration and respect, and as a way to seal a friendship and an alliance between equals. Grimaldi gave the job to Lopez, who would have a free hand in organizing the operation.

  Lopez chose one of the brightest, most determined, most ruthless of the recent recruits, someone who was eager to prove his worth. The Cerignola people provided logistical support. The act was carried out just as the shops were opening. From the criminals’ point of view, it was a success.

  The fifth murder was the most spectacular and alarming of all. An episode that had become notorious in the criminal history of the region.

  A small team of Grimaldi’s men had been assigned to kill a man named De Fano, a member of the Montanari clan, which controlled the San Paolo neighbourhood that bordered on Società Nostra’s area of influence. The Montanaris were longtime opponents of Grimaldi in a low-intensity war that had lasted for about ten years, with many wounded and a few killed. De Fano, with some accomplices who had not yet been identified, had raped a girl from Enziteto, the niece of one of Grimaldi’s associates. If relations between the two groups had been good, Grimaldi could have asked old Nicola Montanari, longstanding boss of the clan that bore his name, to punish his associate himself. As this wasn’t a feasible solution, they had to act directly.

  De Fano had been riddled with bullets but had survived and, in addition, had got a good look at his assailants, all of whom he knew wel
l. A rumour circulated that, purely out of revenge, he was deciding to cooperate with the law and accuse his attackers. Whether or not the rumour was true, Grimaldi said they needed to complete the job they had left half done, by striking De Fano in the clinic where he was being treated. Once again the task, far from an easy one, was entrusted to Lopez, who took along two other members, both young but already experienced in operations of this kind. Capocchiani, who would normally have taken part in such a strategic action, was in custody at the time.

  In the days following the wounding, the police commissioner had arranged for guards to be stationed outside De Fano’s room. Then the service had been suspended because of the usual shortage of manpower.

  To get into the clinic, they were helped by a male nurse who informed them when there were no more visitors, opened the door to the department, pointed them in the direction of De Fano’s room and left, having finished his shift, before the three men got down to work.

  They had long-barrelled revolvers with silencers. Lopez put a pillow over De Fano’s face, and the other two shot him in the head through the pillow. The only sounds were dull thuds. If anybody heard them, they didn’t realize they were shots, and the three men left first the department, then the clinic, undisturbed.

  The staff became aware of the murder at least an hour later. The episode caused a huge stir and would greatly increase the prestige of the Grimaldi clan as well as the personal prestige of Vito Lopez, who soon became Grimaldi’s right-hand man – basically, the deputy boss of Società Nostra.

  It gained him further respect in criminal circles, but also attracted envy and hostility. In addition, with the passing of time, Grimaldi became increasingly paranoid and worried about possible internal betrayals and competition with other organized criminal groups in the city and the province.

  These were the conditions that led to things coming dramatically to a head.