“What had Iacopo been doing just before you met?”

“I think he’d been to that other guy’s apartment.”

“You mean the apartment of the man who’d given him the pills?”

“Yes.”

“When you said goodbye did Iacopo tell you where he was going?”

“No.”

“Did he rush off or did he go away calmly?”

“Calmly.”

Consuelo had finished. Marinelli asked Gastoni if she wished to cross-examine.

“Yes, Your Honour.”

“Please proceed.”

“So you don’t know where Cardace went after you met him.”

“No.”

“For all you know, he might even have gone back to see the person he got the pills from.”

“Objection, Your Honour,” Consuelo said. “A conjectural question. In fact, it’s not even a question. It’s a conjecture the assistant prosecutor could make in her closing statement if she wants to.”222

“Ask questions, Assistant Prosecutor,” Marinelli said.

“Have you been examined before today?”

“How do you mean?”

“Has anybody questioned you? The police, an examining magistrate?”

“No.”

“Have you ever told anybody this story?”

“A man and a woman – they said they were private investigators. And then the lawyers,” he added, turning and nodding in our direction.

“When was this?”

“A few days ago.”

“What did they say to you?”

Marinelli glanced at us, expecting us to object. Gastoni’s questions hinted that we had behaved improperly. Once again, theoretically, I could have objected. In practice I didn’t do so, for the same reason as a little earlier: it would have suggested that we were worried, that we were trying to stop what had happened from emerging because it contained something reprehensible. I shook my head and remained silent: I had nothing to say and the assistant prosecutor’s questions didn’t bother me at all.

“Nothing really, they asked me about that time I met Iacopo. And then if I wanted to come here and give my testimony.”

Gastoni seemed about to insist, then must have thought it was better not to.

“Why is it you never told the police any of the things you’ve told us today?”

“Because nobody called me.”

“But you knew Cardace had been arrested and then tried for murder?”

“Everyone knew. It was even on television.”223

“And why didn’t you come forward before to tell anyone what you’ve told us today?”

“Because nobody sent for me.”

“But didn’t you realize your testimony might be important?”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

Gastoni made a gesture of exasperation and sat down again. Marinelli asked us if we wished to re-examine. I replied that I just needed to clarify a few things.

“Signor Arcidiacono, let me go back to what you were just asked by the prosecution. You said nobody sent for you. No policeman, no carabiniere, no examining magistrate?”

“No, nobody.”

“Can you tell the court what I said to you when we talked a few days ago?”

“Objection,” Gastoni almost growled.

“Why?” Marinelli asked in a not very friendly tone.