Involuntary Witness - Страница 35

“What do you think of me, after what I’ve told you?”

“What I thought before. It’s just a bit more complicated.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“No, not this evening. Don’t misunderstand me, it’s just that-”

She interrupted me, speaking quickly. Embarrassed.

“I don’t misunderstand you. You’re right. I oughtn’t even to have said it. Did you say the trial ends on Monday?”

“Most likely. It depends on one last check-up ordered by the court. If certain documents arrive in time, then we should wrap it up on Monday.”

“Will you be speaking in the morning?”

“No, I don’t think so. Almost certainly the afternoon.”

“Then I’ll almost certainly manage to come. I want to be there when you speak.”

“I’d like you to be there too.”

“Then… goodnight. And thanks.”

“Goodnight.”

I was already on the stairs.

“Guido…”

“Yes?”

“I did go to him afterwards. I told him he was right. About the hypocrisy – mine – and all the rest.”

She paused briefly, and when she spoke again there was an unfamiliar timidity in her voice.

“Did I do right?”

I took a deep breath and felt a knot dissolving in the pit of my stomach.

I told her yes, she had done right.

35

The mobile-phone records arrived punctually on the fifth day after the hearing during which they had been ordered. I was assured of this by the carabinieri sergeant who had carried out the court order. He was a friend of mine, so I had called him up to find out. On his assurance I went to the law courts to examine them.

It was Saturday, 1 July. The Palace of Justice was deserted and the atmosphere slightly surreal.

The door to the Assize Court chancellery was closed. I opened it and found no one inside, but at least the air-conditioning was working. I therefore entered, closed the door behind me and waited for someone to come back and let me see those records.

After a quarter of an hour a clerk arrived at last, a little titch of about sixty whom I didn’t know. He gave me a vague look and asked if I needed anything. I did need something and told him what. He appeared to reflect upon the matter for a while before nodding thoughtfully.

The search for the documents was a laborious business and pretty exasperating, but one way or another the little man finally managed to unearth them.

From the mobile-phone records it emerged that Abdou had certainly told the truth about his trip to Naples. The first call was at 9.18. It was an outgoing call from Abdou’s mobile to a number in Naples, and had lasted two minutes fourteen seconds. At the time of the call Abdou was already in Naples or the immediate vicinity. There followed four other calls – to Naples numbers and to mobiles – always from within the Naples area. The last was at 12.46. Then nothing happened for more than four hours. At 16.52 Abdou received a call from a mobile. At that time the area was Bari city. The call after that was at 21.10. It was an outgoing call from Abdou’s mobile, still from Bari. Then nothing more.

I sat there thinking over the result of that inquiry. Certainly it was not decisive and it failed to sew up the trial. There was a gap of more than four hours, and smack in the middle of those four hours the child had disappeared. What emerged from the phone records did not exclude the possibility that Abdou, returning from Naples, had gone on to Monopoli, reached Capitolo, kidnapped the boy and done God knows what else.

I got up to leave and noticed that the little man had sat himself down on the other side of the chancellery, with his chin on his hands, his elbows on the desk and his gaze lost in space.

I wished him good day. He turned his head, looked at me as if I had said something extraordinary, then turned away again and gave a vague nod. Impossible to say if he had replied to my greeting or had still been elsewhere, talking to some ghost.

The air outside was scorching. It was midday on Saturday, 1 July and I was bound for the office to shut myself in and prepare my speech for the defence.

I was in for a long weekend of it.

36

The hearing began on the dot of nine-thirty. The court took note of the arrival of the mobile-phone records, and we all agreed that we did not require explanation from an expert in order to understand the data. For our purposes, what was written in those records was clear enough. The Telecom engineer who had presented himself for the hearing was thanked and told his services were not required.

Immediately afterwards the judge went through the last formalities and called upon the prosecution. It was nine-forty.

Cervellati got to his feet, pressing down on the table and shoving back his chair. He adjusted his robe, glanced at his notes, then raised his head and addressed the judge.

“Your Honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, today you are called to give judgement on a very horrible crime. A young life, a very young life, brutally cut off, as the result of an act so iniquitous that we are unable to grasp the motive or the measure of it. The consequences of this iniquity are tragically irremediable. No one can restore this child to the love of his parents. I cannot, you cannot, no one can.

“You, however, have a great power, an all-important power, of which I hope you will make good use. Of which I am sure you will make good use.”

I thought: now he is going to say they have the power, and also the duty, to see justice done. To see to it that the author of such a heinous crime does not get away with it, due perhaps to some cavil or quibble.

“You have the power to see justice done. And this is a power of great moment, because it brings with it the duty of doing justice. In the first place to the family of the little victim. But thereafter to all of us who, as citizens, expect a response when such abominable things occur.”

It was one of his favourite dictums in the Court of Assizes. I think he was convinced that it impressed the jury. Anyway, he continued in this vein and after a little my attention began to stray.

I heard his voice like a background noise. Every so often I followed his drift for a minute or two and then my thoughts went rambling off again.

He spoke of what had taken place in the course of the trial, in a monotonous drone read long chunks of the records and explained exactly why the evidence advanced by the prosecution was totally convincing, bar nothing.

One of the most tedious closing speeches I had ever heard, I thought, as I leafed through my file just for something to do.

But at a certain point he came to speak of the evidence of the bar owner, the heart of the whole trial.

He re-read Renna’s statements – but not his answers to my questions – and commented on them. I forced myself to listen carefully.

“So we must ask ourselves, you must ask yourselves: what reason did the witness Renna have for bringing false accusations against the defendant? Because the question, in fact, is very simple and the alternative is clear. One hypothesis is that the witness Renna is lying, thereby paving the way for an innocent man to be sentenced to life imprisonment. Because he is well aware of the consequences of his testimony, but nevertheless persists in it, despite the difficulties we saw in the course of his cross-examination. If he is lying, thus accusing an innocent man of a crime punishable by life imprisonment, he must have a reason. Indeed, a ferocious and ignoble personal antagonism, because only hatred of such a kind could explain so aberrant an action.

“Is there any proof, or even the suspicion, of such destructive hatred on the part of Renna with regard to the defendant? Naturally not.

“The other hypothesis is that the witness is telling the truth. And if there is nothing to tell us that the witness is lying, we have to recognize the fact that – in spite of approximations, errors, understandable moments of confusion – he is telling the truth.

“The effect on the outcome of the present trial is obvious. For do not forget that the accused denies being at Monopoli, at Capitolo, that afternoon. And if he denies it when in fact he was present in those localities – and we can assert it with complete confidence because we are told it by a witness who has no cause to lie – then the explanation is one and one only and, unhappily, is there for all to see.”

I made a note of this concept too, because it had a sense to it that had to be confuted explicitly.

Cervellati continued, following the proceedings in chronological order, and finally came to discuss the mobile-phone records.

He said what I expected him to say. The verification requested by the defence had not only failed to prove the innocence of the defendant, but, on the contrary, provided further material in favour of the prosecution.

Because that gap of four or so hours with no telephone calls, during which the instrument was probably switched off, was an item of circumstantial evidence worth exploiting. And Cervellati exploited it. There was a degree of verisimilitude – a high degree, he said – in the hypothesis that the defendant, having returned to Bari from Naples, had gone on to Capitolo, having already formed a plan of action. Or perhaps in the grip of a “raptus”, or brainstorm. It was probable that he had switched off his mobile phone so as not to be disturbed during the heinous deed. And this, better than any other hypothesis, explained the absence of calls between five and nine o’clock that evening.

I took notes on this part of the speech as well. It was an insidious argument and might well influence the jury.

There followed a hypothetical reconstruction of how Abdou might have put his plan into effect, basely and craftily exploiting the little boy’s trust in him.