That was the place for me to stop. The message, I thought, had got across. The record of Abdou’s interrogation had been drafted pretty casually, and now the court knew it. I could change the subject and get on to the decisive point.
“You have said that on 5 August you went to Naples but that there are no witnesses who can confirm this fact. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Have you got a mobile telephone?”
“I had one. When they arrested me they confiscated that too.”
“Of course, it is on file in the report. When you went to Naples did you have that mobile with you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember whether you made or received any calls that day?”
“I think so. I don’t remember exactly, but I think so.”
“Can you tell us the number of that mobile telephone?”
“Yes. The number was 0339-7134964.”
“I have finished, Your Honour. Thank you.”
The public prosecutor had no more questions and requested the attachment of the document used for his assertions. I made no objections. The judge said that after half an hour’s break would be the time to put forward any applications for additional evidence. The court would decide whether to accept or reject them and we would agree on the dates for further hearings.
My feeling was that I was seriously in need of coffee and a cigarette.
33
The bar in the law courts had little tables like the ones in the snack bars of the 1970s. I got my cup of coffee at the counter, then went and sat at one, alone and with the intention of spending half an hour without thinking of anything or talking to a soul.
I lit a cigarette and sat there watching the people coming in and out of the bar. Peaceful.
There I was when in came a suntanned, stylish, bejewelled woman with the air of one who spends a lot of her time between the gym and the beauty parlour. She was making for the counter when she spotted me and stopped. She was looking in my direction with the beginnings of a smile on her face, as if she expected some sign of recognition. I glanced to right and left, to see if it was really me she was looking at. Behind me was impossible, because I was right against the wall. However, I was the only one at the tables, so it really was me she was looking at.
Noticing the way I acted, she came nearer. Her expression had changed a little. I imagine she thought I must be extremely short-sighted or extremely dim-witted.
“Don’t you recognize me?” she said at last.
I craned towards her, and a doltish smile spread over my face while I hunted for something to say. Then I did recognize her.
From fifteen years before, or perhaps more. I had only just graduated. I couldn’t remember what she was doing at that time, but certainly something quite different. Maybe studying medicine, or maybe I was confusing her with someone else.
We had gone out together for a couple of months, or perhaps less. She was older than me, by five years or so. So now she must be about forty-five. What was her name? I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name.
“Magda. I’m Magda. How come you don’t recognize me?”
Magda. We’d gone out together for two months fifteen years before.
What did we do? What did we talk about?
“Magda. Forgive me. I don’t wear specs because I’m too vain and then I make this sort of a fool of myself. I’m a little short-sighted. How are you?”
“I’m well. And you?”
There followed an absurd conversation. I remembered almost nothing about her, so I was cautious, trying to avoid any more gaffes. She told me she was in the law courts for work reasons. The way she said it implied that I knew what her job was. But I hadn’t the foggiest and while she went on talking – about separations, the single life, holidays, how we absolutely must meet again one evening with a series of persons whose names meant nothing to me – I felt sucked into a surreal maelstrom.
I recovered only when we parted, with hugs and kisses.
Ciao, Magda. When we meet again I’ll pluck up the courage to ask you what we talked about, nearly every evening for two whole months, fifteen years ago.
The judge asked the public prosecutor and counsel for the civil party if they wished to produce any additional evidence. They both said no. Then he turned to me with the same question. I got to my feet and before speaking adjusted my robe, which, as usual, was slipping off my shoulders.
“Yes, Your Honour. We have applications in accordance with Article 507 of the code of criminal procedure. A short while ago the court heard the examination of the defendant. He stated that he was registered as the owner of a mobile telephone. This fact, moreover, has already emerged from the documents in your possession, because among the papers on file is the report of the confiscation of the instrument in question and the relative card, corresponding to the number 0339-7134964, the property of the defendant. The defendant stated that he took this telephone with him on that trip to Naples, and that he probably made and received calls on that occasion. You certainly know as well as I do that the use of a mobile phone leaves a trace which is preserved on a magnetic support by the telephone company, in this case Telecom. It is possible to acquire mobile-phone records showing the numbers of incoming and outgoing calls, the time and duration of each call and, above all, the area in which the telephone user was at the time of the call.
“Having said that, I think I need not make any further explanation of what importance may attach to the acquisition from Telecom Italia of the records relative to the use of the mobile telephone number 0339-7134964 on the day of 5 August 1999. It is true that we have no witness who can confirm the alibi of the defendant. The outcome of the mobile-phone records, however, might be far more telling than any witness. The location of the instrument in question at a precise time of day might provide evidence decisive to the outcome of the trial. In conclusion, therefore, in accordance with Article 507 of the code of criminal procedure, I request an order of attachment of the mobile-phone records relative to the subscriber number 0339-7134964 for the day of 5 August 1999. I have nothing more to add. Thank you.”
The judge kept his eyes on me for several moments after I had finished speaking. He was about to turn to the associate judge when he must have remembered that they had had a quarrel a couple of hours earlier. At least, I was convinced that for some reason or other they had quarrelled. There’s no doubt that Zavoianni was turning towards the other judge and stopped half way. So suddenly that he had to strike an attitude, resting his chin on his hand with a thoughtful air. He had moved like a character in a farce and for some moments remained quite unnaturally motionless. Then he addressed the public prosecutor.
“Does the prosecution have any observations to make about this application by the defence?”
“Your Honour, I have many doubts not only about the absolute necessity, but even concerning the relevance to the present trial of this request on the part of the defence. These doubts may be summed up in a few words. Who is to say whether on 5 August 1999 this mobile phone was at Thiam’s disposal? It is true that it was found in his possession at the time of the search. But this is of little significance. The search took place some days later, and we know that in certain circles – such as that of drug pushers, with which the accused has told us he is familiar, if not actively involved – it is common practice to pass around mobile phones, as it is with weapons and other things. In the absence of proof that this instrument was available to Thiam at the date on which the unlawful restraint of the child took place, the evidence requested is without relevance.
“I might add a consideration of a purely procedural nature. Article 507 permits the taking of additional evidence when the need for it has emerged in the course of the proceedings. In this case the evidence could easily have been requested in the introductory phase, but the defence did not so act, whether from negligence or some other reason
