Rocco stood there. He exchanged one last glance with Amelia, who smiled at him, narrowing her eyes a little. He could have gone over to her, struck up a little conversation, spent an enjoyable evening. Instead, he preferred to wait for Counselor Ferretti to leave the sofa and then go over to talk to Baldi’s colleague. “Everyone’s here this evening. Even you . . .”

The judge waved for him to sit down beside him, patting the cushion with his hand. “Do you remember me, Schiavone?”

“And why shouldn’t I, Dottor Messina?”

“I see that you know Cremonesi.”

“Yes. I threw him behind bars once. And believe me, seeing him back out on the street isn’t my idea of a good thing.”

Messina stroked his thick black beard. “There’s no prison sentence that can hold up if you can afford a good lawyer and you’re dealing with the Italian system of justice.”

“Coming from you, that’s cold comfort.”

“Right. Do you want to know why Walter Cremonesi isn’t behind bars anymore?”

“That would be nice, for starters.”

“He makes wine. He owns a vineyard and a winery. Primot is the varietal. And you know what? He runs the place with a group of convicts that are working to rehabilitate themselves. A nice little cooperative. What’s more, you’re probably familiar with the Gozzini law?”

“Refresh my memory.”

“For us citizens who are free to roam the streets, a year is made up of twelve months. But for those who are behind bars, serving out their sentence, a year is made up of just nine. If the convict is cooperating with the process of reeducation and rehabilitation, his sentence is reduced by a month and a half every semester. And that’s how we get to nine months. Participating with the process of reeducation, however, hardly demands who knows what efforts. It’s enough that you refrain from murdering or raping anyone, and that’s the bar you have to meet. In other words, cause no overt trouble, and you’ve done your part. When you’re serving out your last four years, lo and behold, a correctional order is served and off you go home, to serve out the rest of your sentence, there or performing some public service. Simple, no? And let’s not forget the amnesties!”

“The guy was a terrorist . . . He’s killed people, committed armed robberies . . .”

“One of these days come down to the courthouse with me. I’ll show you how it works. The only ones who go to prison are the losers. Four trials, judicial review court, statute of limitations. This is a government that hands out absolutions and immunity, Dottor Schiavone.”

“And you continue to work as a judge?”

“What alternatives do I have?”

Rocco sprawled out on the backrest of the three-seat sofa. “He might have been the one who snuck into my apartment . . .”