I was waiting for the judges to enter the courtroom and my case to be heard, when I noticed a young woman sitting on the public benches. Oriental, but with something European about her features. She looked beautiful and slightly bewildered.
I wondered who she was there for, and several times I pretended to search for something on my bench so that I could turn and look at her.
I had the impression she was watching me, which was of course highly unlikely. A girl like that would never have given me the time of day, I thought, not even in the good old days. Then I thought, when the hell were the good old days anyway?
At least ten minutes passed like this. Then at last the judges emerged from their chamber, the hearing started, and I stopped having these stupid thoughts.
It was a trial for armed robbery and we were due to hear the principal witness: the victim. A jewel salesman who’d had his sample case stolen, along with the unused gun he carried with him.
Two of the robbers had been arrested soon after the crime, with the booty still in their car. They had opted for the fast-track procedure and had already received relatively light sentences. My client was accused of being the lookout. The victim had recognized him from a photograph album at police headquarters. The trial was being held in absentia because my client – Signor Albanese, amateur footballer and professional criminal – had run away when he had found out they were looking for him. He’d only just finished a prison term and had no desire to go back inside. And he said he had nothing to do with this case.
The assistant prosecutor’s examination of the witness didn’t take long. The jewel salesman looked very determined and not at all intimidated by his surroundings. He confirmed everything he had already told the police, confirmed that he had recognized my client from a photograph, the photograph was admitted in evidence, and the presiding judge asked me to proceed with my cross-examination.
“You have stated that the robbery was committed by three men. Two of them physically snatched the sample case and the gun from you, while the third was standing some distance away and seemed to be the lookout. Is that correct?’
“Yes. The third man was on the corner, but then the three of them all left together.”
“And is it also correct that the third man, the one you later identified from a photograph, was standing about twenty yards away from you?”
“Fifteen or twenty yards.”
“I see. Now I’d like you to tell us briefly how you came to recognize the photo at police headquarters, the day after the robbery.”
“They gave me some albums to look at and one of them had the photo of the man in it.”
“Had you ever seen him before? I mean, before the robbery?”
“No. But when I saw his face in the album, I immediately thought: I know this man. And then I realized it was the one who’d been the lookout.”
“Do you play football?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I asked you if you play football.”
The presiding judge asked me what relevance this question had to the matter in hand. I assured him that everything would become clear in the next few minutes and he told me to go ahead.
“Do you play football? Do you take part in any championships?”
He said he did. I took a photo of two football teams out of my file, the kind of photo that’s taken before matches. I asked the presiding judge for permission to approach the witness and show him the photo.
“Do you recognize anyone in this photograph?”
“Of course. That’s me, and these are the others in my team…”
“Could you tell us when it was taken?”
“Last summer, at the championship finals.”
“Do you remember the date?”
“I think it was the twentieth or twenty-first of August.”
“About a month before the robbery?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Did you know the people on the other team?”
“Some of them, not all.”
“Would you please look at the photo again and tell me if you recognize anyone from the other team?”
He took the photo and examined it closely, running his index finger over the faces of the players. “I know this one, but I don’t know his name. I think this one is called Pasquale… I don’t remember his surname. This one…”
His expression changed. He looked at me in surprise, then looked at the photo again.
“Do you recognize anyone else?”
“This one… looks like…”
“Who does he look like?”
“He looks a bit like that photo…”
“Do you mean the one you recognized in the album at police headquarters?”
“He looks a bit like him. It’s hard to-”
“It is in fact the same person. Do you remember him now?”
“Yes, it could be him.”
“Now that you’ve remembered him, can you state that the person who played football against your team that evening in August was the same person who took part in the robbery?”
“… I’m not so sure now… It’s hard to say after so much time.”
“Of course, I realize that. Let me put it another way. When you were robbed and you saw the third man some twenty yards away, did you realize it might be the same person you’d played football against a month earlier?”
“No, how could I?… It was a long way away…”
“Precisely, it was a long way away. Thank you, Your Honour, I’ve finished.”
The presiding judge read out the date for the next hearing and as he was telling the bailiff to call another case I turned to look for the Oriental girl. It took a few seconds, because she was no longer where I had seen her at the beginning of the hearing. She was standing very close to the exit, about to leave.
Our eyes met for a few moments. Then she turned and disappeared into the corridors of the courthouse.