I know because your clothes smell of cigarettes, too many cigarettes, and the thumb and index finger of your left hand – I remember you’re left-handed – are stained with nicotine.

I didn’t say that.

“I don’t know, you seem to me like someone who doesn’t quit smoking,” I said. “But I realize that doesn’t make any sense.”

She smiled a little. And the smile made her seem fragile.

“Actually, I never have quit,” she replied, taking out a packet of soft MSs. “There’s no specific reason I asked if I could see you, so please forgive me if I’m wasting your time. You explained to me on the phone what’s supposed to happen the day after tomorrow – in other words, nothing. Nothing significant, I mean. But the anxiety’s killing me, so I thought talking to you in person would help.”128

Clients often visit a defender’s office for no particular legal reason. They do it to alleviate their anxiety, to have confirmation that there’s somebody on their side who knows (or it’s assumed knows) how to handle a grim, threatening, often incomprehensible situation.

“As I told you, the day after tomorrow I’ll ask for an extension to give me time to make requests for the submission of new evidence. I’ve already talked to the judge, who’s aware of the situation and has assured me there won’t be any problems. I would have called you anyway to clarify a few things, after studying the papers, so it’s good that you’re here.”

She puffed away at her cigarette with the brutal, distracted greed of a true nicotine addict. For a moment I was on the verge of asking her for one.

“What do you need to know?”

I needed to know the truth of the alibi she had tried to provide for her son, which the assistant prosecutor had demolished so effectively. And I needed to know all about that old charge of aiding and abetting and resisting an officer of the law – an episode that, as it happened, dated from the time when she and I had been together. But I omitted to mention this last point.

Lorenza listened to me carefully and replied with great clarity. She came across as convincing.

I wondered why she hadn’t done so the day she had been cross-examined in court. A stupid question. When you’re in the witness stand, it works differently. If there isn’t anybody helping you to keep calm, especially when you’re caught off guard by an unexpected question, the risk of amnesia, or at least aphasia, is strong. The memories come flooding back only after the examination is over, accompanied by inevitable frustration. The esprit de 129l’escalier is quite a common phenomenon among witnesses in criminal trials.