He lies on the Jester's cart - 26 pt.2
- But what did you need to find out? – A sense of anguish rises from the pit of my stomach toward my throat. But I’m curious. I need to understand.
- It was about Prosud. – Then she corrects herself – It is about Prosud.
- In what way?
- There are strange things, things Marzio didn’t understand. Things related to the capital increase.
The inspector writes a big question mark in his notebook and shows it to me. I get it.
- What capital increase?
- It was decided. – she pauses – It was imposed, a capital increase for Prosud.
- When?
- At the beginning of the year.
- What was wrong with it?
- Marzio had suspicions, that it was a political maneuver, meant to damage him, to weaken him.
- Why?
- Because the capital increase was large. Very large. It affected the personal finances of the partners. And he suspected that it wasn’t truly necessary.
- And then?
- And then they called me. Augusto knew the situation, and Marzio’s suspicions struck him and convinced him that something was wrong. I arrived and listened to their story. Then they proposed their idea to me.
She pauses, and I wait for her to continue. In my mind, I picture Marzio, Cardia, and her talking in the study in Sorrento, seated at the desk.
- I accepted, and I gave myself for them, doing what they asked me. I went through with it to the end. I didn’t fully understand what I was doing. I didn’t grasp the scope of my actions, but I did it. Honestly, even if I had understood immediately, I probably would have done the same. – She stops, as if to reflect – Yes, I definitely would have done the same. Then Augusto died. He died, do you understand? – she addresses me with urgency, suddenly changing tone – He died. And I never understood. They say a heart attack. They say he died suddenly. I only know that I always saw him strong, vigorous, never worn down by fatigue or pain. And at that time, he was too focused. He could never have died. He had to clear the fog he and Marzio were caught in. He could never allow himself to die. He never would have allowed it, never.
- I’m afraid. I want to ask her what she did, but I don’t have the courage.
- Do you think they killed him?
- I feel something, something inside. The same thing you feel now. – she says disdainfully.
I lower my gaze. I stay silent. Long seconds pass.
- From that moment, our spiral began. From Augusto’s death, we found ourselves in a stormy sea. I stopped working. I was afraid. Marzio was strong. He continued, even though he was scared. In those days, he talked to me a lot about you, about how much he loved you, how important you were to him, how much peace his life with you brought him. He felt an intense, visceral love for you. I saw Augusto and my mother together in their dream of a possible, realized love in you two. When he talked to me, I fell in love with the two of you, and I never wanted to stop listening.
- Did you talk often?
- Yes, first on the phone. Then eventually in person too. He would come to visit me.
- Where?
- I stayed in Sorrento. In the last days.
- Until when? – I ask, following the commissioner’s suggestion as he shows me the question written in his notebook.
- Until he told me to leave.
- When? – anxiety grips my throat.
- A few days before the end. He came to me one morning in Sorrento and told me to run away. And to never let anyone hear from me again, for my own good. His face, his words, and his gestures frightened me.
I saw him again on the sixth, last Wednesday. He explained what to do in case – she stops, trying to hold herself together, and I do the same, once again feeling the urge to cry – in case something went wrong. I had given him some documents, papers I had recovered from his company. He carried them with him, in his car. He told me those were the ones that worried him. I was supposed to leave early the next morning. He explained everything to me, gave me the name Ligresti, and then… – she stops – and here we are now.
Once again, our thoughts are wrapped around Marzio, his face, his fear, his attempt to save himself and us, the parachutes he set up along the way, one by one opening to keep us from plunging into the abyss, into ignorance. His will to give us a chance to atone for him, for what had consumed him in the fire.
I see the flames, the red heat surrounding him, his hidden face turning into a black shadow of ash and burning coal. His figure growing darker and darker until it loses substance and transforms into smoke.
The commissioner nudges me.
He’s waving the next question under my nose. I hadn’t noticed. I read it and mechanically repeat it.
- What were the documents you gave him?
I slowly bring my gaze back to the camera to reestablish eye contact.
A few moments pass.
- They were invoices. Purchase and sales. Prosud-related stuff.
The commissioner takes notes, and I feel drained. I wonder when I will stop feeling like this.
- I’m tired, you know. – she says. – All of this terrifies me and fills me with sadness at the same time.
- Yes, I feel the same. It’s terrible. – I pause and then say it. – I see Marzio all day. He’s always in front of my eyes, and I don’t know how much longer I can handle it.
- Yes, I understand. He’s inside me too. I can’t forget him. I don’t want to. – she sighs. – He didn’t deserve all this.
- None of us deserves this. – I reply.
- Yes, that’s true. And I hope the truth can be uncovered. To give him justice. To give him what he wanted, what he was seeking.
I remain silent. My spirit is curled up inside me. Weak and tired. It has retreated into the deepest, warmest part of me. My heart beats weakly, though quickly. Sadness envelops me.
The commissioner shakes a piece of paper over the keyboard. I look at it. Then I turn toward his eyes. He looks at me and nods, as if to encourage me.
- You know, Marzio’s car keys weren’t found with him at the crime scene.
- How do you know that?
- I know a policeman investigating the case. You know, he doesn’t believe Marzio killed himself either.
- So there is someone else.
- Yes. – I smile. It’s true, we’re not alone now.
- I need to tell you something. It’s important. Do you know about Augusto’s Golden Share?
- I read the emails.
- Yes. That was the last straw. What broke the balance.
- Between Marzio and the family?
- Yes. He told me that he thought the capital increase in the company was a move to reduce his wealth or, at least, diminish the influence he had in the company. Do you know how the shares are divided after Marzio’s father passed away?
- No, I don’t.
- Forty percent to each child and the remaining twenty to the mother, Margherita. Augusto knew that Margherita’s views were, how can I say… She always sought a strong figure to cling to, and she developed this form of worship for an undisputed leader. Indisputable, I would say. And as long as Marzio’s father was alive, she was satisfied. When he died, she desperately searched for a replacement. In the end, she found one. She gave herself entirely to this cause, the cause of making this person her absolute reference point. But in her selfish version, her own needs became everything, and in the end—and I’m sure of this—she chose to make one final move to free herself from her anguish.
- What anguish? – I don’t think I’m understanding much.
- The anguish of seeing two currents clash, two rivers flowing parallel but separate, neither gaining full control over the other. Do you understand? The absence of one ‘I’ above all.
The commissioner rubs his thumb and forefinger together a couple of times. I watch as his lips seem to mouth the name "Marzio."
- That’s why she chose to give up her twenty percent. – I stay silent, thinking I understand. – So that it could be definitively decreed who was on top and who was beneath. To restore order. Maybe she would have done it with a mother’s heart, dividing it nine and eleven, but she would have done it anyway. For her, the principle mattered above all else. Even her own soul was at stake for this.
Augusto knew. He felt deep down that it would happen and took precautions. He had the authority, and he did what he thought was right. The Golden Share to Marzio nullified all of Margherita’s claims, leveling what she was trying to do. And from there, everything spiraled. The reading of Augusto’s will was… – she pauses – Let’s leave it at that.
What can I say? I knew nothing of all this. Nothing. Marzio, if you loved me so much, when were you going to tell me all of this?
- But I have to tell you something.
I listen.
- I have to tell you that Augusto would have been proud of you, of what you’re doing, and the courage with which you’re doing it. Marzio would have been proud too. – I smile. I don’t know whether to believe it. I don’t know if it’s just to comfort me. – I’m glad we talked. That I told you these things. I felt the need to tell someone, and you were the only person I could confide in. There’s one last thing you need to know before I go. When I met with Marzio for the last time, he told me that if something happened, he had left one last thing for you. He had kept it safe at the company. He was going to give it to you the next day, before the meeting. He never told me what it was. But when he said it, he seemed at peace. As if… he felt reassured. Did he ever give you this thing?
I shake my head.
- He never gave me anything.
- Then he didn’t manage to. – her voice fills with sadness. – That thing is for you. He made it for you and hid it for you. It’s yours, waiting for you. I don’t know how to help you, and that destroys me, because I saw in his eyes how important it was to him to give it to you.
My heart pounds. My Marzio.
- You have to recover it. I don’t know how, but he would want it that way.
My Marzio. I turn toward the door. He’s there. The demon holds his left hand and clings to his right leg. I can’t see his face, I don’t know if he’s sleeping.
My Marzio is here for this. To finish what he chose to do. That’s why he’s here. His death wasn’t enough to break his will. He’s here for me.
- Everything okay? – she asks with her slight Parisian accent.
- Everything okay – I say as I turn my gaze back to the monitor.
- I have to go. – she says quietly.
- Okay. Thank you for everything.
- There’s something terrifying behind all this. It’s already taken Augusto and Marzio, one after the other. It’s Umberto. He’s ruthless, all he cares about is power. Money.
- Did he kill them?
- I don’t know. All I know is that if Augusto and Marzio discovered any shady dealings, then Umberto wouldn’t have hesitated. I’m scared they’ll track me down. When you called me, I froze. I don’t want anything to do with this family. Please, don’t call me again.
- Okay.
- I hope this ends the way Marzio would have wanted.
I look at her. In the camera, I think I can see her light eyes.
Marzio wouldn’t have wanted it to end this way. But his will is so strong that it will take us where he wants in the end, even if he’s not here, in our flesh.
- He’s in our hearts, isn’t he? – she says.
- Yes, in our hearts.
- Exactly.
The conversation ends.
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