Gianrico Carofiglio - Reasonable Doubts

When the lights went on – the projectionist cutting off the end titles abruptly-I stood up, determined to approach her. I had never approached a woman like that in my life, but I was a grown-up now – so to speak – and it was worth a try. Anyway, what was the worst that could happen?

But this time she was gone. The cinema was empty again.

I hurried to the exit, thinking she’d stood up just before the lights went on. But there was no one in the street.

The wind was even stronger now than when I’d arrived, creating eddies of dust. As if in a dream or an apparition, five stray dogs crossed the road in single file and vanished behind a corner.

I turned up my coat collar, stuck my hands in my pockets and went home.

The next day I woke up aching all over, and the pains didn’t go even after my usual stretches. Needless to say, I wasn’t in a good mood as I walked to the courthouse. My mood got worse when I entered the crowded, overheated courtroom and saw that the assistant prosecutor for that hearing was Porcelli.

He was a man with the personality and charisma of a squid. Even physically, wrapped in his robe, with his tall body and small head, he gave the impression of a large, superfluous marine invertebrate. He didn’t give a damn about anything. Everything about him conveyed an almost inhuman sense of dull indifference.

At least he wouldn’t be a tough opponent, I thought, filing the matter away. The judges were coming in.

The bailiff called Natsu, who was waiting in the witness room. She came out and looked around for a few moments, slightly disorientated. The bailiff led her past the judges. Everyone was looking at her.

“Before we begin,” Mirenghi said, “I am obliged by law to inform you that as the wife of the defendant you have the right not to testify. However, if you decide not to exercise this right, you are required to tell the truth like any other witness. Do you wish to testify?”

“Yes, Your Honour.”

“Very well. Please read the oath.”

Natsu took the small laminated card which the bailiff handed her and read in a firm voice, “Conscious of the moral and legal responsibility I assume with my testimony, I swear to tell the whole truth and not to conceal anything of which I have knowledge.”

“You may proceed, Avvocato Guerrieri.”

“Thank you, Your Honour. Signora Paolicelli, obviously you already know what it is you are here to testify about. So I’ll dispense with the preliminaries and ask you if it was you who appointed Avvocato Macri to defend your husband after he was arrested.”

“Yes.”

“Did you already know Avvocato Macri when you decided to appoint him?”

“No.”

“Why did you appoint him, then?”

“It was suggested to me that I appoint him.”

“By whom?”

Natsu was silent for a few moments, as if to collect her thoughts. “It was the day after my husband’s arrest. I was leaving home when a young man came up to me. He told me he had been sent by some friends of my husband and gave me a piece of paper with Macri’s name and mobile phone number on it. He told me I should appoint him as soon as possible and he would sort everything out for my husband.”

“What did you reply?”

“I don’t remember exactly what I said, I mean the exact words, but I tried to get him to explain.”

“Why do you say you tried?”

“Because he said he couldn’t stay, he had to go. He said goodbye, went over to a car parked about thirty feet away, with another person in it, and drove away.”

“Did you take the licence number?”

“No, I didn’t even think of it. I was too astonished.”

“Did you ever meet him again after that?”

“No.”

“Would you be able to recognize him if you saw him again?”

“I think so, but I’m not sure.”

“Did you subsequently speak to your husband about this episode?”

“Of course.”

“And what did he say?”

“He was even more astonished than I was. He had no idea who this young man was, let alone who sent him.”

“I have a few more questions, Signora Paolicelli. Could you tell us the circumstances pertaining to the lifting of the sequestration order on your car?”

“Yes. Avvocato Macri said he would file a motion to get the car back. He said that since the car was mine and I had nothing to do with the crime, there was no reason why they couldn’t let me have it. He did in fact file a motion, and a few days later he told me that the prosecutor had lifted the sequestration order.”

“And then what happened?”

“We were talking on the phone and I asked him what I had to do to get my car back. He told me not to worry. He was coming to Bari in a few days and he’d go and fetch the car personally.”

“And is that what happened?”

“Yes, he collected it and brought it over to my home.”

“One last question, Signora Paolicelli. Did you ever pay Avvocato Macri?”

“No. He said I didn’t need to. He said that when it was all over I could give him a present.”

“So you never paid him, never even reimbursed him for his expenses?”

“No.”

“Did he ever say that there was someone else taking care of his fee?”

“No, not to me. I think he said it to my husband.”

“Thank you. I have no other questions.”

Mirenghi asked the assistant prosecutor if he had any questions. He shook his head wearily. Girardi told Natsu that she could go. They all watched her as she walked those few yards to the public benches, and for a few moments I felt an inappropriate sense of pride. Then I reminded myself that I had no reason to feel that, and certainly no right.

The guards brought Paolicelli into the courtroom and took up their positions around him, as was the practice. Mirenghi made him repeat his particulars and with absurd punctiliousness had him state that he was a resident of Bari but was currently in custody and that therefore his domicile was the prison. Then he advised him of his right to remain silent and asked him if he intended to exercise this right or if he was willing to undergo examination. The whole ritual.

“I wish to testify, Your Honour.”

“You may proceed with your examination, Avvocato Guerrieri.”

“Thank you, Your Honour. Signor Paolicelli, my first question is a very simple one. Are you guilty or innocent of the crime with which you are charged and for which you were first arrested and then sentenced?”

“Innocent.”

“Would you explain to the court why, after a large quantity of narcotics was discovered in your car, you made the following statement: I acknowledge that the quantity of forty kilos of cocaine was discovered in my car. Regarding this, I freely declare that the drugs belong to myself alone and that my wife Natsu Kawabata, whose full particulars have been noted in other documents, has no connection whatsoever with this illegal transportation, which is the sole responsibility of the undersigned. I placed the narcotics in the car without my wife’s knowledge. I have no intention of naming the persons from whom I acquired the aforementioned quantity of narcotics… and so on?”

Paolicelli took a deep breath and shifted on his chair before replying. “I was with my wife and daughter. The customs police said they would have to arrest both of us, because there was no way of knowing which of us the drugs belonged to. We were travelling in the same car, we were husband and wife, it was more than likely that we were in cahoots, that we were accomplices. And so they had to arrest both of us.”

“And then what happened?”

“I started to panic. I mean, I was already panicking, but the idea that they could arrest my wife, too, and we’d have to find someone to take care of our daughter, terrified me. I begged them to let my wife go, because she didn’t know anything about the drugs.”