Kidnapped and a Daring Escape (46 page)

    
"Move!"

    
When André remains standing, the guard hits him into the shoulder
blades, shouting again: "Move!"

    
Another blow hits his shoulder blades. He now pretends to faint,
turning his eyes up to the ceiling, closing them with a shudder, and
letting himself slowly collapse to the floor.

    
"Shit, the guy fainted. Get a stretcher!" he hears the same guard shout.

    
A short time later, he is lifted onto a stretcher. He makes sure his
limbs and head flop around, keeping his eyes closed. Then he is carried
away. Since the stretcher remains horizontal, he knows that he is not
taken upstairs into his cell. The hollow sound of boots tells him that they
carry him down a corridor and then he detects the smell of disinfectant.
They are indeed taking me to a first-aid station, he figures. The stretcher
is put down hard. André make use of the jolt to pretend coming to. He
feels blood seeping from the wound in his arm.

    
 A male nurse orders the guard to remove the handcuffs. Then he helps
André to strip off his top and inspects the wound. "What caused this?"

    
"I don’t know. I didn’t see it," proclaims the guard who pocketed the
spoon.

    
André eyes him, and the guy glares back with an expression that says
"Keep your mouth shut, or else."

    
"I think it was a sharpened spoon," André answers, locking eyes with
the guard.

    
"Where is it?" the nurse demands.

    
"I didn’t see. You have to ask the guards," replies André, his eyes still
unmoving on the guard. The latter looks away.

    
The nurse disregards his remark. He gets busy disinfecting the wound
and puts an elastic plaster on it. "It’ll heal without stitches," he says.
"When did you have your last tetanus shot?"

    
"Two months ago."

    
The nurse nods. "No need for another one then," he remarks while
helping André slip on his top. Next, he fetches a sling for his arm.

    
"Did the prisoner get his lunch?" he questions the guard.

    
André does not give the guard time to lie and interjects. "No, my food
was swept off the table by the guy who attacked me before I could start."

    
"All right, guard, see to it that he gets his lunch."

    
The two guards take him back to the mess hall. Few prisoners are still
there. He gets a fresh plate. After the meal they accompany him up to his
cell.

    
The door has hardly been locked, when Pietro mutters: "They’ll kill
you. It was a bad idea to hit Massimo. He doesn’t like being humiliated
in front of everybody. It’s bad for business."

    
"Has he recovered?"

    
"Yes, he came too while you were gone. He has a badly swollen
throat. Couldn’t swallow. They took him back to his cell," he says with
a sneer, "and without food. That’s a first for him."

    
"The guards are clearly in on their scheme. One of them pocketed the
sharpened spoon and then claimed he did not know what happened."

    
"You bet they are in on it, and they are not pleased either that you
dared to defy Massimo. They want their cut."

    
André says nothing. The wound starts throbbing and he decides to rest
for a while. Later, he writes up the incident at lunch in his diary. He adds
his apprehension of what is going to happen next day in the showers, the
place where the two, possibly with the help of others, are mostly likely
to make their move. Almost as an afterthought he questions whether
provoking an incident that confines him to solitary might be the only way
to remain safe while
Commissario
F persists with her softening-up
strategy.

    
He has just finished writing and is hiding the paper when a guard
opens the spy hole and calls: "Vigliere, stand by the door."

    
The lawyer has come, flashes through his mind. He retrieves the paper
from inside the cover of his pillow, folds it tightly up four times and
hides it inside the sling of his left arm. The guard has already opened the
door. André feigns difficulties climbing down from the bunk with his
arm in a sling.

    
"Hurry up," the guard shouts. "Your lawyer is waiting."

    
He follows the guard down the corridor. Several heads poke out of
open doors. The guard takes him to a sizable room and orders him to sit
at one of two tables. Another guard remains standing by the door.

    
A minute or so later, a flashy looking man in his thirties enters. He
frowns when he discovers André’s left arm in a sling. Shaking hands, he
says: "Ernesto Gallizio, but call me Ernesto. Bianca engaged me to
represent you. What happened to your arm?"

    
André instinctively feels that he can trust that man. "I was stabbed by
another inmate who wanted ten euros a day protection money."

    
"And the guards?"

    
"They hit me after the incident."

    
"And what did you do to the guy. From what Bianca told me, you are
unlikely to just take it."

    
"I floored him."

    
"Hmm. Do you want some cash? I can give you fifty."

    
"I doubt that this will be enough now. No I’ll just have to brave it
out."

    
Gallizio creases his eyebrows as if he does not like that prospect, but
then says: "I guess you first want to know why it took me more than two
days to come and see you."

    
"Yes I was wondering at that. Is this part of
Commissario
Farnese’s
softening up tactics?"

    
"Ah, you already know about that. Yes, it is. I asked to get access to
you Monday afternoon. They did not call back. Tuesday, I was told you
were being transferred and not accessible until today. This morning I was
again fobbed off until I threatened Farnese that I would lodge a complaint
of obstruction with the
Questore
. That’s when she finally arranged for me
to see you. Look, Bianca gave me a detailed account of what happened
in Colombia, including your inferences. A priori, I cannot even fathom
why they arrested you since they cannot have any evidence that would
hold up in court —"

    
"That’s what I also pointed out to the
commissario
, but she promised
that they would leave no stone unturned to find it."

    
"Did you? How did she take it?"

    
André shrugs.

    
"I also asked her who made the
denuncia
, which she refused to
divulge as I expected. So I added that it was not difficult to guess that
Professor Visconti had done it. I wanted to see her reaction. She fell for
the trap. Her face clearly showed that my guess was right."

    
"You know, you are really unlucky to have fallen on her."

    
"Yes, a teenager in the holding cages told me that already on Monday.
What are you planning to do to get me out of here before somebody kills
me?"

    
"Is it that serious?"

    
"Yes, it is." He lowers his tone to a low whisper. "Place your hand on
top of mine and take the paper I leave underneath." Then he continues at
a normal voice. "Let Bianca know that I love her and that she should
write her term paper for university. She might even get it published."

    
Gallizio frowns, puzzled for a second, and then his eyes light up with
a broad smile. "Courage man, I will tell her," he says, placing his hand
briefly on André’s, and removes the paper, while continuing to talk: "But
to come back to your question, I will apply for an immediate release on
the basis of insufficient evidence. Farnese will obviously decide against
it. But once she has, I can go to a higher authority, where I’m fairly
certain she will be overruled. I guess you also realize that they try to
frame this whole thing as a case of the Stockholm syndrome, which
means Bianca will sooner or later have to submit to a psychological
assessment. At this point I do not intend to disclose what Bianca told me
about your discoveries. I will keep this in reserve should the case ever
reach court. Do you agree with that?"

    
"Yes, it is all circumstantial, and as Bianca may have told you, the
only other witness got killed."

    
"Yes, Bianca told me. You seem to be a man of many talents, not to
be trifled with."

    
"I may need more than just talents to survive here. I urge you to hurry
to get me out. Bianca could help. Is there anything else you want to
know?"

    
"No, it can wait. Do you want me to talk to the prison superintendent
and ask that you be put in isolation?"

    
"Is he likely to heed such a request?"

    
"I can’t tell. It usually takes more than one assault, and the guards are
unlikely to report this one if it is against their own interests."

    
"Then don’t bother. I will just have to be ready for them."

* * *

Early afternoon, a policeman from the
Questura
delivers a summons to
Bianca to present herself to
Commissario
Farnese at three o’clock the
following day, its purpose to arrange for a psychiatric assessment in
connection with the kidnapping in Colombia. After Gallizio’s warning,
she expected it, but it upsets her nevertheless. More than ever she misses
André’s calming support. She phones the lawyer, but is told that he is out
and will only be back late afternoon. So she leaves a message about the
summons.

    
She gets Gallizio’s call late afternoon while she tries without much
success to compose some notes about her visit to Tierradentro. She tells
him of the summons, and he requests that she meets him at Bocelli’s in
half an hour, that he has important information for her, as well as an
urgent task.

    
He first tells her about André having been assaulted — her heart
jumps into her throat — but then reassures her that he seems to be in
excellent spirits. It helps calm her nerves.

    
"That man of yours is quite a guy." He recounts the episode of passing
the paper. "He told me to tell you that he loves you and that you should
get on with your university work, maybe even publish it. I’m sure you get
the drift of what he means, namely that you write this up immediately
under his name and send it by e-mail to several newspapers for publication. I read it. When this hits the press, it will explode like a stink bomb,
and I will have more ammunition to demand his immediate release. I
have even thought of a suitable headline: Villier meets Italian Justice.
And now, Bianca, get busy and then e-mail it to all the major Italian
newspapers and a select few abroad."

    
She wants to start reading the paper, but he interrupts her: "Read it
while you type it into your computer. Don’t lose time now. I want it in
print by tomorrow morning."

    
He also tells her that he will take up the matter of the summons with
Commissario
Farnese and will report back to her tomorrow.

    
Back in her room, she transcribes the material into an MS Word
document during the next two hours. The handwriting is tiny with no
paragraphs, just two slashes to signal them, as she discovers after some
confusion. The style is staccato: ‘10:30 arrive at Foreign Affairs. Bianca
Pacelli taken away for debriefing.//10.50 ordered to
Questura
by two
policemen for questioning.//11.00 stand in front of
Commissario
F for
two minutes gazing across Via Piacenza before she looks up and tells me
to sit on a chair undoubtedly chosen for its extreme discomfort.
Commissario
F goes on a fishing expedition before she finally accuses me of
having kidnapped Ms Pacelli and then pretended to rescue her. I trick her
by her accusing
Professore
V, Bianca’s ex-fiancé, to have made the
denuncia
. Her facial expression gives her away … …’