Rimanoa

Strange prison

5:02 a.m. Aug. 17.

"Hey, pops, what are you in for?" — I was asked by a 25-year-old man who had occupied the cell before I arrived.

"I don't know myself. — I took the seat across from him. — What about you?"

"Yeah, I was walking around. So, like, I went into a liquor store. I ordered a beer, yeah. "I'm sitting there drinking, I don't care. Some guy walks in, like, a little gloomy. You can tell by the look on his face that he's a man without a clue, yeah. Not our kid. I'm like, "Who are you?" And he's like, "Nobody." You know, yeah. He's all puffed up. So I hit him in the face with a mug, yeah. And he started waving his arms around. So I hit him with another beer. But he's still standing there, dog. You know, yeah. So, like, I knocked his head off, so the flicks came and got him, and I'm sitting here. "What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, come to think of it. Like, car, stolen, yeah." "Here, assholes…"

"Well, like, I'm walking, yeah. It's also raining. I'm, like, soaked. "I can't get my head up. Some dick stops, says he can give me a ride. So I said yes, yeah. We drove, like, two kilometers, he turns around with a gun in his hand, like a flick, says, "Here we are. Now the dogs are investigating some kind of murder."

"Oh, assholes…"

"Yeah, like, assholes…"

After an hour and a half of such conversations, four cellmates (four exactly, usually such escorts are given only in high-security prisons, like the old Alcatraz) "came to the door": "Come out, Mr. Cordarro."

I was taken to a small room with one table, two chairs and a bunch of witnesses behind a glass on the wall (the favorite thing of all top-ranking police officers is to look at the person they can't put in jail behind a mirror like that).

The investigator sitting at the table, trimmed to "Hedgehog", offered me a seat and, letting only two guards go (now it is clear — it is no longer the police, it is something more important, more likely Interpol, because there is nothing serious in Spain, obviously they know my approximate orientation), began: "What's your name?" "I'll answer, only next to my lawyer."

"By law, you must answer our questions before a lawyer arrives (these investigators are very fond of "noodling around" with newcomers to crime, for me he probably wanted to "mess with my head" or try his luck)."

"I know my rights (in such interrogations one must watch one's every word, for words like remove, remove, end can be interpreted as one wishes); besides, I am an Italian subject, and that has some significance."

"Which is?"

"Get me a lawyer first."

"Once again, I repeat that you are obliged to answer our questions first (his 'must' turned into 'must', meaning he was starting to push, which means he has nothing against me, at most something particularly strong)."

"All answers only with the assistance of an attorney."

"Okay, get him out of here," — he tapped on the table, whereupon those two guards who had left earlier came in.

This time I was taken not to a cell, but to a prison-transport car, which could very well have taken me to another country — these guys did not want to part with me so easily, so they even decided to break the law and not let me make a phone call, so that at least a lawyer could find me, or inform, for example, the embassy (just an example, because probably the Italian security services know about it all) that their subject was so-and-so; it's hard to imagine how long they could have taken me to different places, thus effectively kidnapping me, if I hadn't called my lawyer before they took me, because they wouldn't have started looking for me right away.

"Well, shall we talk?" — The investigator (now his hair was slicked back and glistening in the light) asked me, but in a completely different place, where I already had a solitary room at my disposal.

"How about a lawyer?"

"I already said that you must answer our questions first."

"The way the case is supposed to work is as follows? You call a lawyer, and while he hurries to the place, you break a comedy in front of me, claiming that I am obliged to answer your questions at once, but I did not want to answer them, and the lawyer did not arrive after a whole twenty-four hours, so you did not call him. You violated the law by not giving me the right to a lawyer.

"You want to have a straight talk? Go ahead. We're not going to let you go because we know who you're working for. We promise you security, you'll live like a paradise if you tell us everything you know."

"I am a private entrepreneur with Italian citizenship (they always tape such conversations), you have no right to detain me here for more than 48 hours and must provide a lawyer, or let me contact mine."

"You're very uncooperative, Mr. Cordarro. Realize that you have two ways out of here: with our help, or with the help of the old lady with the scythe."

"Old ladies with a scythe? There are many old ladies, but to have a scythe… I don't know any old ladies… With or without a scythe. I don't know… I just have no idea who you're talking about."

"You can fool around indefinitely, but either way, you're not getting out of here alive." "Smells like a threat…"

"It's not a threat, it's the truth." "I need a lawyer for the truth."

"The lawyer won't arrive. No one is coming. Understand that, Mr. Cordarro." "You will get nothing from me. That's my final answer."

"Your will, but note that we have plenty of time," — he tapped the table again, whereupon I was taken to solitary.

Such a revelation could only mean two things: either I was turned in by my own people, which would be the worst case scenario for me, or there was a big hunt for all of Koza Nostra, which would be the worst case scenario for the organization.