Involuntary Witness

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I well remember the day – or rather the afternoon – before it all began.

I’d been in the office for a quarter of an hour and had absolutely no wish to work. I had already checked my e-mails and the post, straightened a few stray papers, made a couple of pointless telephone calls. In short, I had run out of pretexts, so I’d lit a cigarette.

I would just quietly enjoy this cigarette and then start work.

After the cigarette I’d have found some other excuse. Maybe I’d go out, remembering a book I had to get from Feltrinelli’s that, one way or another, I’d too often put off buying.

While I was smoking, the telephone rang. It was the internal line, my secretary ringing from the waiting room.

She had a gentleman there who had no appointment but said it was urgent.

Practically no one ever has an appointment. People go to a criminal lawyer when they have serious, urgent problems, or at least are convinced they do. Which comes to the same thing of course.

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