7) The truth of a mistake.

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Phillipa was on a police car, surrounded by cops who didn’t talk, watching closely her movements, she had a pair of handcuffs on her hands and she could saw how people dressed like detectives went inside the building.


The police kept there for some time, they had to tell Carabinieri that they had Phillipa trapped and that they would take her there.
After the officer in command wrote some annotations about her physical description and about the indoor of her apartment, took the wheel and drove to Carabinieri.


It was a tough idea the one of leaving her house completely alone, the police would investigate everything there, which could result as really positive, she left evidence that could help her situation on Manzoni’s homicide, so this make her feel more pleasing.
On the road, streets were empty, and she had a guy on her left and another one on her right, they were not touching her or even turned to look at her, but they certainly kept an eye on her.
She knew that this night meant the beginning of a new Phillipa, although she was so nervous, she never shook, she kept her eyes to the front in order not to arouse suspicion and for showing just her cold and unexpressive emotional side.


Phillipa felt like a dirty bug when she was thrown out of the car and then carried to a cell.
She saw all what surrounded her over there, she saw the police, she saw Carabinieri, and a lot much too, but she didn’t pay attention at all.
She also forgot the events between her arrival to Carabinieri and the exact moment when she appeared inside of a cell, a freezing cell with no windows and no way out.
She just remembered that after a blinking of her eyes, she was already conscious of what was happening. She felt the hard bed in which she was sitting on, she saw the metal door at the entrance of the small room, and analyzed each one of the parts, deducting that it was impossible to find a way out.
She gazed a little light bulb located at the top of the place, it was bright enough to look at any corner of it, there was a toilet and a sink at the bottom and she found herself on a complete situation of silence, there were not noises, the was no freedom, she had to wait to be judged and processed until the next day, but ironically, she was at Carabinieri.
All the try’s that she had done without obtaining any result didn’t matter. Now she was the criminal and she was the searched. She laughed with this idea, but after all, she was in position of receiving the consequences of her decision. But it was also the moment for Carabinieri to listen her motives for first time. She felt comforted, but remembered that apart of having moments where she could talk and make opinions, she had all the disadvantages against her from an angry Turin.


Day 3


Luca Collodi gave copies of the reports coming from the most recent goals from Phillipa’s apprehension. Including the inspection of her house and nearest contacts. There was anything clear at the moment and Collodi called the judge Filiberto Calabro, to take over the case. He met with them on a gathering and discussed the first points before taking Phillipa’s declaration.
“I don’t agree, I cannot work with Mayor Pini”, said the judge Calabro. He wore a brown suit, combined with his black tie and shoes. He was middle aged and used and old-fashioned hairstyle that did not look good with his gray hairs.
“Don’t act like a child Mr. Calabro”, exclaimed Collodi angrily. “This is important and a national problem, he must be on the interrogation”
Pini just listened carefully to Calabro’s complaints, the comments didn’t go too far and Collodi ended his speech explaining that there was no reason Pini could not work with them, despite of his harsh attitude, which were the main arguments against Pini and his style of being.
Pini, who ordered on his mind the ideas and sentences from the discussion finally talked.
“Terrorism is not a joke and we have to attend the problem directly, this is not a game, but I guarantee that Mr. Calabro will not get bothered, I’ll be discreet and I won’t disrupt the interrogation process.
With this, Calabro had not option; he had to accept his good intentions. The talk finished and he moved to the corridor in front of the interrogation room. Donato who was near the door, accompanied him to smoke a cigarette before the interrogation.
Pini gave a signal to the officers to go and pick Phillipa to the room. Four officers departed and Pini entered the interrogation room.


Giovanni, who waited to receive a big pile of white sheets, took his laptop and followed Pini. The corridor in front of the room was short and well illuminated. It had potted ferns located everywhere. There were antique chandeliers on the roof and he saw a group of officers who talked and joked about yesterday’s assassin. He also saw judge Calabro and prosecutor Pini and walked in straight line to the room, sitting next to a desk, on right hand from the door. He installed his stuff and sit, putting everything into order.
“I’ll see you soon, wait me and don’t move until I get unoccupied”. Giovanni could listen to part of a conversation between Pini and another person by a mobile phone. He wasn’t sure about what was he saying, and he didn’t give a try to listen attentively.
“The receptionist is going to tell you where, but remember, don’t move!”
Pini kept away his cellphone and stared in front of the unique window at the other side of the room, opposite from where Giovanni was.
Giovanni felt uncomfortable, he evaded the eye contact, moving notebooks and folders from one place to other. He could hear to Donato and Calabro’s talk. Pini just showed his back and he didn’t make any noises.
When he turned, he saw Giovanni with his grim face, pointing his fallen eyes to his person. He always radiated competitiveness, superiority, all those attitudes that tired anybody who could spend more than ten minutes talking with that man.


Phillipa could hardly sleep for a pair of hours, the time she calculated that passed was really long but not endless.
She noticed the coming morning because there was a sunshine that crossed through the tiny space between the door and the floor. She knew that she would be interrogated, but now she was thinking on eating some bread accompanied with coffee.
She remembered Palmieri’s café, the best cafeteria in all Turin. She used to drink it since she was a child and then it came to her mind how much she missed childhood.


Regarding her situation, she had planned a lot of things that she would apply with the Carabinieri. She had completely clear that talking with the truth every single part of the events would help her a lot.
There was no needing of a lawyer; she was enough person to defend her own testimonies without necessity of legal advisory. She was the unique responsible and knower about the assassination she committed so at the end of all, an end with lots or few years in jail will come as a result of her own efforts.


She heard steps coming from the other side of the door. After that, a guard opened the heavy metal door, shouting ‘Interrogation’. She quietly walked toward him and the man put the handcuffs over her hands. The three other officers were there standing up at first, but then each one of them took different positions around her and as they walked, she had two men holding her shoulders, one on her right, the other on her left. There was other officer leading the group and another behind them.
The corridor was curved to the left and it was completely made of cement. The walls were of course gray and there were cells and more cells separated by wide distances.
Also, light bulbs on the left wall, lighted the corridor, making it less gray, but as they walked firmly to the interrogation room, the spaces were totally changed.
As in previous moments, she kept her eyes on the center, trying not to call the attention with any movement or expression that could have a meaning for the police.


As they arrived to a gate that conduced to many rooms, she could see other officers that started muttering when she approached them. She saw their uniforms and some were different. While some of them used dark blue colors, others used royal blue t-shirts.
Calabro threw away his cigarette as a reaction of the criminal’s arrival.
To of the officers carried Phillipa inside the office, followed by fist Calabro and then Donato, who was still smoking and who finally closed the door.
Phillipa paid attention to all the office while she sat down in front of a desk. She saw Mayor Pini who was standing up in front of the window. She saw the two guards who sat on chairs next to the door and judge Calabro who sat to on the other side of the desk.


He made a review to the folders containing all the information and reports of Phillipa, including al the old and recent data of her profile.
This were tense moments, everything was ready to start. She wanted to talk but she recognized that it wasn’t the moment yet.
There was a deep silence around the place and as the judge read and reread the papers, the tension became present. He opened a folder hitting the desk, so that Giovanni pointed his eyes to both the judge and Phillipa, to have a perfect appreciation of the scene.
Calabro scratched his head and Phillipa waited until he started speaking.
“Nome?” asked judge Calabro, taking out a pen from the right case of the desk, which held near a notebook, waiting for her response.
For a moment she doubted what to say, it came to her mind the false name she gave to Secretary Angela, Rita Bucciarelli, but it was a bad idea. She answered with a heavy voice.
“My name is Phillipa Kiesner”.
With this comment, Mayor Pini shook slowly in surprise. Donato and Calabro exchanged a glance. “Let’s see, do you want to speak in English?” Judge Calabro laughed, asking in Italian.
“I’m English” answered Phillipa.
Calabro searched on the documents the specific details to find out if Phillipa was telling the truth. “I have the right to testify in my native language” she added.
“What is this about?” asked Donato madly. He walked from one place to the other looking at her on different perspectives.
“What the hell is this game about?”. He smoked with more force his cigarette. Calabro held her passport and analyzed it.
“She’s English”, he concluded, giving the passport to Donato who could not believe it.
“So what?” asked Donato to Calabro.
“She wants to testify in English. We need an interpreter” Donato wrote this on his notebook, closing other folders indicating a pause on the interrogation.
“No, no. We don’t need an interpreter.” said Donato suffocated. He changed his actual position to be on the left to the judge.
“She can perfectly understand. Any word that we say and she will understand. Stop playing!”, Donato yelled. Phillipa kept her eyes down, avoiding the comment.
“It is her right” said Calabro, putting his chin over his hand.
“Her rights are shit to me. Hey!” Donato pointed his finger to Phillipa and continued talking, snapping.
“You will listen in Italian. You will speak in Italian and you are going to confess in Italian”
screamed Donato out loud and threw away the passport with a brutal movement.


Nobody talked for a second; they waited for a reaction of Phillipa. But after those scenes of tension, Giovanni spoke. He was shy about how could Calabro and Donato will take his opinion. He wanted to reserve his comments so he almost whispered.
“Sorry, I can traduce. I am qualified”
Everybody turned to look at him, including Phillipa and Mayor Pini. Donato smoked harder his cigarette and helped Giovanni to move the recorder and the microphone to the table.
Giovanni sat with his stuff between them and turned on the recorder. Calabro restarted the interrogation.
“Nome?”
“Phillipa Kiesner”
“Data di nascita?”
“July 14th, 1978”
Giovanni traduced the date and judge Calabro continued.
“Place?”
“Manchester”
“Occupation?”
“I’m a teacher”
Giovanni traduced again.
“Marital status?”
He asked her marital status. She kept quiet and astonished with the question.
“Am… I don’t know”. Pini who always showed his back as he stayed looking the window turned his whole body to look at her, confused with her answer. Giovanni told the judge that she didn’t know.
“You don’t know if you are married or not?”, asked Calabro ironically.
“I was in the middle of the process of divorce like six months ago and my husband died during the paperwork”
“But, did you finish the procedure?”
“No, we didn’t”, explained Phillipa sadly.
“Then you are widow” said Calabro insensibly.
It was really hard for Phillipa. She felt defeated, hopeless. Both Giovanni and Calabro wrote annotations. Giovanni looked at her, analyzing with precision her face expressions.
She took a breath and then Calabro approximated to her, seeing her eyes closely.


“You have been accused of triggering the explosion of a bomb in a building of offices”
Phillipa listened attentively to these words from the judge, moving her head slowly accepting this affirmation.
“It caused the dead of four people”.
Phillipa was frozen; there was not any word or movement. This sentence was an impact to what she expected. It was like if blood turned to fire around her body and killed her slowly, making impossible any reaction.
She was absolutely shocked; she drowned with an internal scream. She started shaking. The tension blocked her eyes and mouth. She stammered.
“F-four?”
“Yes four. The explosion caused the detachment of an elevator killing a father with his two girls and a char of 50 years.”
Phillipa approached her head near to the judge, putting her left hand under her chin. It was impossible, unimaginable. She hoped that this was just a mistake, that this had an explanation.
She kept her eyes compassionately on Calabro, who explained that three of the four people died instantly after blowup.
“The youngest girl died during the night in the hospital” whispered the judge.
For Phillipa this was a terrible philological hit. Uncontrollably, her tears sprang from her eyes. She felt blind, she felt destroyed; everything that she carefully prepared had the worst results. Even for the things she thought that could happen, she never involved damage to third persons.
You have been accused of belonging to a terrorist organization” Donato started, putting the cards on the table.
“No, no.” Phillipa cried interrupting Donato’s speech. Trembling, she broke into sobs. Giovanni looked at her. He was sad and shared some of the woman’s pain, he was puzzled.
“As I said, you are accused of being involved into a plan, whose intention is to undermine the state and the premeditated murder of civilians”, Donato continued.
Phillipa who kept crying and suffering with this new, wanted more information. People died because of her fault. But that was done. She wondered what happened with Manzoni.
“Only four people died?”, she asked stammering, looking at Giovanni, waiting for his immediate translation. He didn’t expect a question like this. It was absurd, inappropriate.
He assimilated the sentence and translated it to Calabro.
“Oh, wasn’t it enough for you?”, asked Calabro sarcastically. This reaction from the judge was normal, but Phillipa thought more about her comment and gave him details.
“No. I mean the office. The man in the office. I put the bomb in his office”
“Which organization do you belong to?” insisted Donato, retaking the baton of the talk.
“Who trained you? From where did you get the bomb?”
Donato lifted her head with one hand, his face was threatening. He knew the strategies of criminals and he could not allow Phillipa’s tricks.
Giovanni, in silence, didn’t quit his eyes out of her. He was dismayed, he believed her words.
“Who give you orders?”, yelled Donato. Phillipa just move her head in disagreement and wiped off the tears over her cheeks.
“Nobody” assured faintly, stretching the sleeves of her sweater.
“And what about your husband?”. Mayor Pini finally spoke for first time.
“I…” Phillipa looked Mayor Pini with mercy, ignoring that Giovanni was paying all the attention on her.
“I don’t have a husband. He is dead”. Phillipa closed her eyes when she pronounced these words. She passed her hand over her nose, which had a lot of nasal fluid. Giovanni translated this to the audience.
“How did he die?” asked Donato, putting less pressure on her words.
“Of an overdose” answered bitterly. A momentary silence covered the room, but Phillipa spoke again.
“See, you already know all of this. I’ve been calling. I’ve been writing.
I’ve been trying to call your attention since a long time ago. Since years”. As she talked, Giovanni translated exactly each one of the words. Taking a breath per each phrase,
“Who did you call to?” asked Calabro, confused.
“Here, to the Carabinieri.”
“What did you want from the Carabinieri?”
“I wanted to talk with them.” Phillipa’s voice changed when she noticed that it was the time for explaining everything. She was anxious but really nervous, so she tried not to exaggerate her accusations.
“I wanted to tell you about the man who controls the drug’s businesses”. As she talked, Mayor Pini turned his head one more time, pointing his eyes down. This was calling his attention more since the beginning of the interrogation.
“I knew him. He used to study with my husband. Because of him, there are kids who die every week”
“And because of you, four people died yesterday!” remarked Donato with a gesture, pointing the hypocrisy with which she declared.
“This doesn’t have any sense with a trafficker” said Donato furiously, throwing his finished cigarette.
“Wait a moment” ordered Calabro, searching for some papers between the documents, trying to calm Donato.
Phillipa had stopped crying. She passed her sweater over her eyes one more time when she stared perplexed. She was immobilized and opened her eyes with astonishment.
“He’s not dead” whispered Phillipa, putting her head closer to the desk.
Giovanni was worried, but he didn’t try anything, it would be illogic.
“Don’t try to change of subject, just answer our questions. Who organized the assault?”
But Phillipa continued approaching her head to the desk, she moved her lips, trying to say something. Giovanni perceived how her semblance slowly faded in front of his eyes.
She finally leaned over the desk. Nobody noticed it, just Giovanni who didn’t decide between telling the judge or not. She was maybe just playing, or maybe she wasn’t.
“Where is your foundation at?” Donato elevated his tone of voice as he looked how she ignored him.
“Answer!” he screamed, reclining his hands over the desk.
“Your lordship…” Giovanni pointed Phillipa with his finger, while she started to sink down the desk. She finally fell down completely unconscious.
Everybody stared at her for a moment. They kept in silence.
Mayor Pini continued looking through the window and the rest were worried.
“I hate these games”. Donato walked next to a bookcase where there was a glass of water. He took it and threw the liquid over Phillipa. She didn’t move.
Calabro wrote some notes on his notebook and told Giovanni to search for a doctor.
“Quickly!” he shrieked, pressuring Giovanni not to lose any time.


Giovanni crossed the corridor to a bigger one. It conduced to the main staircase, which was made of sheetrock.
He ran down the stairs like a little kid, calling the attention of some officers who looked when he passed.
He arrived to the doctor’s office. He was an old man like sixty years old and wore a laboratory coat. He used glasses and was very busy. He was talking by phone with the wife of a mate, telling her some indications about a medicine.
“Give me a second. What happens?”
“She is fainted”. Giovanni, who was jittery, requested the rapid help of the doctor to wake up Phillipa. It wasn’t necessary to tell her name. After all, the whole country had known Phillipa Kiesner yesterday.
They moved to the interrogation room and the doctor told that the place should be emptied o he could work. Pini was already gone. Calabro stayed outside with Giovanni while Donato smoked a cigarette sat on a chair to relax a bit.
He examined Phillipa and took her blood pressure, then he took her head and lifted it few centimeters.
“Wake up, come on wake up!”, the doctor slap her face many times, but she didn’t respond.
“Please help me”, ordered the doctor to Giovanni. He approached and sat on the floor next to Phillipa. “Roll up her sleeve”. The doctor opened a bag and prepared and injection. Giovanni was meanwhile rolling Phillipa’s left sleeve, when she moved her head to the right. He turned to see if the doctor was ready and then looked at Phillipa. He stared at her face. She was beautiful. She didn’t seem like to be harm. She was just sleeping. Sleeping comfortably is what Giovanni appreciated. He admire her factions and explored her eyes.
“Where am I?” said Phillipa weakly, while she tried to see who was the man she talked to.
“You are with the Carabinieri.” He took her hand and moved her fingers. He pressed her palm delicately and Phillipa smiled, with her eyes middle-opened.
She asked him sweetly who he was, without stopping the eye contact.
“I’m a carabiniere.” Her face changed. She closed her eyes and her mouth trembled.
“I’m sorry” she said, with an apologizing voice tone that she had not used until that moment.
“I’m sorry”, she repeated louder.
The doctor then sat on the floor holding a syringe and told Giovanni to go out. He took her other arm while asking him to close the door.
Giovanni acted quickly and left the room. He could listen how Phillipa cried. When the door was shut, it was hard to listen, but Giovanni suffered the same pain. He walked across the corridor and saw a pair of officers at the background. He also saw Mayor Pini getting into an office.
“I had to go to the Police Station. Yes, they have her” said a man who was already inside of the office.
“I’ll call you later” said the man, who was Manzoni, and hang his mobile phone as Pini entered, closing the door. Giovanni could not identify the man but he saw him just before the door was closed.


 

Created: Feb 26, 2014

Tags: wrote, story, heaven, fiction, novel, narration, book, thoughts, chapter

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