Reasonable Doubts (23 page)

I thought I caught a very slight movement on Macrì’s face, like the beginnings of a wicked smile.

“Your Honour, I realize this question may seem rather strange. But it’s a detail that will help me to clarify other things that are more immediately pertinent to the case.”

Mirenghi rolled his eyes imperceptibly. Girardi seemed to be following proceedings closely. Russo - and this was the odd thing - hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“Go on, Avvocato. But please remember we have other cases scheduled for today’s session, and we would like to see our families eventually.”

“Thank you, Your Honour.”

I turned back to Macrì. The vague smile had vanished. Perhaps I’d only imagined it anyway. “Will you tell us the address of your office ... and while we’re about it, the telephone number and fax number.”

This time he turned to me before answering. There was genuine hatred in his eyes. Just try, I said inside my head. Just try, you son of a bitch.

He told me the address of his office, hesitated a moment - I was probably the only person to notice - then said that he didn’t have a landline, because he preferred to use his mobile for everything.

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You don’t have a landline, so obviously you don’t have a fax either?”

“As I’ve said” - he was articulating his words clearly now,
and the effort he was making to control his irritation was more noticeable - “I prefer to use my mobile for everything. We have computers, we’re connected to the internet, so instead of faxes, we use the computer and a printer.”

He turned to Mirenghi.

“Your Honour, I don’t know where Avvocato Guerrieri is planning to go with all this, and I’m not even particularly interested. I must say, though, that I am struck by his unduly aggressive and intimidating tone. I don’t think that’s the way to speak to a colleague ...”

“All right, Avvocato Macrì. I think we could spend many hours trying to interpret Avvocato Guerrieri’s tone without reaching any agreement. The questions he’s asked so far have all been admissible and, in the opinion of the court, have not been prejudicial to the dignity of the witness, that is, you. If you think otherwise, you can complain to the bar council. Avvocato Guerrieri may proceed, as long as he takes into account the warning I gave him before and the fact that we would like to get to the point as soon as possible.”

Mirenghi was getting irritated by Macrì. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing. When he was irritated, he tended to take it out on anyone within striking distance, no matter who had originally caused the irritation. I knew I’d better get a move on.

“If I understood correctly, you told us that you haven’t always practised in Rome, right?” I realized I was saying “right?” at the end of every question, as he had done a while earlier, when we were talking in the corridors.

“I know perfectly well where you’re going with this.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. If that’s the case, perhaps I can spare myself the bother of actually asking you any questions. Would you tell us where you practised before you moved
to Rome, and why, and under what circumstances, you moved?”

“I practised in Reggio Calabria, and moved for very personal reasons, sentimental reasons, if you know what I mean.”

“I see. But did anything happen to—”

He interrupted me, speaking quickly. “There were charges against me and I was acquitted, for the simple reason that I was innocent. But that has nothing to do with my move to Rome.”

At this point I glimpsed Porcelli out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to have come to life a little and was showing a naïve interest in what was happening.

“Was your personal freedom restricted in any way?”

“Yes.”

“Were you under house arrest, did you spend time in prison, or what?”

“I was arrested and then, as I said - but I’m sure you already know this-I was cleared of all the charges. Because, I repeat, I was innocent.”

“Can you tell us what you were charged with?”

“I was charged with criminal conspiracy in connection with Mafia drug trafficking. The charge was completely without foundation, and I received compensation from the State for unlawful detention. Just to bring your information up to date.”

I was about to ask him on what basis he had been arrested and then cleared. But I knew Mirenghi wouldn’t let me go that far and even if I did I might jeopardize everything. It was time to get to the point.

“Did you ever tell Signor Paolicelli that you
knew
he was innocent?”

“I may have done. We say a lot of things to our clients, especially the ones who complain the most, who can’t stand prison. Signor Paolicelli was like that. Always complaining, I remember.”

“Could you tell us what you and Signor Paolicelli talked about? First of all, how many times did you meet?”

“I don’t remember how many times we met, five, six, seven. But I will tell you now, out of respect for the dignity of our profession, that I have no intention of talking about the conversations I had with my client, however significant they may be. With regard to these questions, I reserve the right to remain silent, on the grounds of lawyer-client confidentiality.”

Mirenghi turned to me, and gave me a questioning look.

“Your Honour, I believe that the rule of lawyer-client confidentiality is there to guarantee that the lawyer can exercise his profession freely, but more specifically to protect the client. It is not a personal privilege for individual lawyers. I’ll try to explain. The law allows defenders the right to remain silent as to what they have learned in a professional context, yes, but there is a specific reason for that. It is to guarantee the
client
as much freedom as possible to confide in his own defence counsel, without fear that the latter might subsequently be obliged to disclose the substance of these conversations. That, in a nutshell, is the reason for this right. It’s a way of protecting the client and the confidentiality of his relationship with his counsel, and not an indiscriminate privilege for lawyers.”

All three judges were listening to me. Russo was looking at me, and his face seemed - how shall I put this? - different.

“If this outline is correct, as I believe it is, then the right to remain silent on the grounds of lawyer-client confidentiality
becomes invalid if the client, whose protection this rule is intended for, declares that he releases his counsel - or his former counsel-from the obligation to observe confidentiality. In this instance, Signor Paolicelli - as you will be able to confirm immediately - releases Avvocato Macrì from this obligation. Once you have established that such is the case, I ask you to declare the right to remain silent unfounded and I ask you to order the witness to answer my questions.”

“Your Honour,” Macrì said, “I’d like to make some observations on what Avvocato Guerrieri has said.”

“Avvocato Macrì, you are here as a witness and are not entitled to make observations on anything the parties have said. Signor Paolicelli, do you confirm that you release your former counsel from the right to remain silent regarding the conversations which took place between you and which had as their subject the facts of this case?”

Paolicelli confirmed this. Mirenghi told Macrì to go back into the witness room. Then the three judges rose and retired to their chamber.

I stood up, too, and as I did so I turned and noticed that both Tancredi and Natsu were in the courtroom, sitting a few seats from each other.

42

Natsu stood up. I went up to her and shook her hand. It was a bit of a show. I could feel the eyes of the world on me, Paolicelli’s in particular. I held her hand for a very brief moment, but avoided looking in her eyes.

Then I asked her to excuse me because I had to talk to someone. As I walked towards Tancredi I noticed that
the man who knew the score
had vanished. Which made me feel both relieved and anxious in a new kind of way.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I had to go to the Prosecutor’s Department. But then I got through my business quicker than I’d expected, so, seeing as how you’ve involved me in this case anyway, I came to see what was happening. What do you think the judges will do? Will they order him to answer?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know which is better for us, to tell the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“If the judges order him to answer and he lies without contradicting himself too much, then it’s Paolicelli’s word against his.”

“And what if they say he can claim lawyer-client confidentiality?”

“I can make something of that in my closing argument. You saw, Your Honours, that the witness Macrì refused to tell us about his conversations with his former client. He claimed
lawyer-client confidentiality. Of course he was entitled to do so, in accordance with your order. But we have to ask: why? Why, when his client himself wanted him to talk about the substance of those conversations, did he refuse to do so? Obviously because there was information it wasn’t in his interest to reveal.”

Having got the technical explanation out of the way, I thought it might be a good idea to tell him about the henchman Macrì had brought with him. “In any case, Signor Macrì didn’t come on his own.”

Tancredi turned his head slightly, to inspect the courtroom. Macrì’s friend had gone, however, so I told him what had happened before the hearing.

“I’m going to call some of my people now. When Macrì’s finished on the witness stand we’ll put a tail on your pleasant colleague and his friend. If they leave by car we’ll have them stopped on the autostrada by the transport police. It’ll look like a random check; that way they won’t suspect anything. If they take a plane, we’ll alert our colleagues in the border police. We’ll be able to identify them and see if this man is only a driver and flunkey or something worse.”

That made me feel a whole lot better, I thought.

“That way,” Tancredi went on, “if anyone does bump you off, you can rest assured it won’t go unpunished. Those two will be the first people we arrest.”

I don’t know why, but I didn’t find the joke all that funny. I was looking for an effective retort when the bell rang and the judges came back into the courtroom.

43

Judge Mirenghi read out the ruling with the air of someone who thinks that a certain matter is dragging on and wants everyone else to realize it.

“Having taken note of the witness’s declaration that he wishes to exercise the right to lawyer-client confidentiality regarding all questions pertaining to his conversations with the defendant Fabio Paolicelli while functioning as his counsel; having taken note of the statement by the defendant and the observations of his present counsel, who has requested that the witness be ordered to answer since he has been released from the obligation to observe confidentiality about his conversations with his client, which alone would justify the right to remain silent; noting that the right to invoke lawyer-client confidentiality is there to protect both the client and his counsel and to guarantee the untroubled and confidential performance of the counsel’s difficult professional task; noting therefore that Paolicelli’s declaration is not sufficient to invalidate the above-mentioned right to remain silent, which is also intended to protect the defence counsel; for such reasons the court rejects Avvocato Guerrieri’s motion, declares that the witness Macrì has the right to invoke lawyer-client confidentiality regarding all questions pertaining to his relationship with his former client Paolicelli, and stipulates that proceedings continue.”

Then he turned to me. I was looking at him and at the
same time observing Macrì’s face. He had his old expression back. He was pleased. He must have been thinking that he’d be on his way home in a few minutes.

“Avvocato Guerrieri, you have been informed of the court’s decision. If you have no other questions, I mean questions not pertaining to the substance of the conversations between the witness and the defendant, perhaps we could—”

“I accept the court’s decision, Your Honour. I only have a few more questions. Obviously on topics not covered by lawyer-client confidentiality.”

He looked at me. He was getting impatient and made no attempt to hide the fact. “Go ahead and ask your questions, but please bear in mind that the matter of their relevance will be subject to the most rigorous scrutiny from now on.”

“Thank you, Your Honour. Avvocato Macrì, just a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”

I looked at him before going on. His face was telling me different things. One of these was: Guerrieri, you’re a loser. I offered you an opportunity to get out of this mess gracefully, but unfortunately for you you’re an idiot. So in a few minutes I’ll be walking out of here as cool as a cucumber, and with my money still in my pocket.

“The defendant’s wife, Signora Paolicelli, has told us that when the sequestration order on her car was lifted, you personally went and fetched it from the police pound. Can you confirm the circumstances of this for us?”

“Yes. Signora Paolicelli asked me if I’d do this for her as a favour, and as she was alone, and in a difficult situation—”

“Actually, Signora Paolicelli told it rather differently. She said it was you who offered to go and pick up the car.”

“I think Signora Paolicelli’s memory is at fault. Unless
someone
advised her to remember it that way.”

I felt the blood rush to my face, and I had to make an effort not to rise to the bait.

“Very well. We’ll take note that you and Signora Paolicelli have given different accounts. Now I’d like to ask you if you know a man named Luca Romanazzi.”

He controlled himself, but couldn’t help giving a slight start. The question about the car he’d been expecting. This one he hadn’t. I had the impression he was doing a quick, nervous mental calculation as to what was the best thing to say. He must have concluded - correctly - that as I had brought up the name Romanazzi I presumably had some evidence that they knew each other, so it would be a stupid idea to deny it.