That shitface Valiani gave me a wicked kick in the shins. “What the fuck are you making up?” he started to shout. “Nothing, superintendent. I’ve come to give myself up.” He got even more angry. Turned red in the face and repeated Contin was the one that killed Oreste and his wife. “Why?” he kept on asking. “Why are you sacrificing yourself for him? What’s the point? You realize they’ll throw you back in jail and you’ll croak like a dog in the clinic?” Yep, like a dog. Like Oreste and Daniela. I couldn’t really explain why to him. I had to play dickhead till nightfall. The superintendent wanted to fuck over Contin but I couldn’t let that happen. The whole business would’ve gone on forever. They’d make me go back to court and testify and I didn’t want to do that. The truth was I felt sorry for Contin. I saw so many lifers go crazy from desperation and he was just like them. Sentenced to a life of pain. It was all my fault. I killed his wife and kid, I didn’t have the courage to admit it so I accused my partner, and I set in motion the mechanism that led him to track down Oreste. I sure felt sorry for him but I couldn’t explain it to Valiani. He wouldn’t understand. He thinks like a cop. The good guys belong on the outside, the bad guys on the inside. Contin wasn’t made for jail. He couldn’t survive and the madness would devour him whole. Nobody takes care of the crazies in jail. Not even in the hospital for the criminally insane. Just the fact they’re kept locked up drives them out of their heads even more. No. Contin shouldn’t end up in a cell. Nobody would save him. Besides, he’s got a right to a second chance. They always denied me that. On the outside he can get it. He can realize he’s a murderer and get his shit together. Paying for him is my way of making amends for the evil I did. I couldn’t tell the superintendent all this. He kept on slapping me till my face was swollen. Wanted me to retract. Finally he asked me, “How d’you kill them?”
“I beat them,” was my answer.
“Where’d you bury them?”
“In the dump near the overpass.”
Then he started to think. Gave me a strange look. Even he seemed nuts. “If we don’t find them,” he said, “it means you’ve made up everything. You’ll get charged for it, and I’ll kick your ass all the way home. But if you’re telling the truth, it means you talked to Contin. Only he could’ve told you where he hid the bodies.”
“Come off it, superintendent,” I said. “Contin has nothing to do with it. It was me. Oreste wanted to take my share so I laid him out. Him and his whore.”
“What kind of deal did you make? What did he promise you?” He was almost begging me to give him an answer.
They found the bodies at night, digging with a bulldozer and beaming the ground with photoelectric cells. I was there, handcuffed to a steering wheel. They also found an axe handle dirty with blood. I signed the confession and now I’m back in jail. Valiani did all he could to reason with the judge but the judge laughed in his face. The superintendent slammed his badge down on the desk and left.
I did what I had to do. I feel like shit but I don’t give a fuck. It’s only a question of time before the cancer fixes me forever. Before going to the police station I stopped in the cathedral. There was a sign that read “Penitents” and under it the times for confession. I knelt down and told the priest I killed a woman and a child, did a stretch in prison, and now I was going back to die there. He assured me I had God’s forgiveness. Good to know. You can never be sure what you’ll find when you close your eyes forever. I asked him what he knew of that business about the darkness, what Contin was telling me. The priest’s answer was God is light. Up your ass, Contin. Fuck that priest too. I already told the judge I won’t go to the trial. They got the confession so they can do without me. Soon they’re going to transfer me to the clinic. At this point I can hardly wait. I’m writing a letter to mamma. Asking her to forgive me and not to come see me anymore. I couldn’t bear her suffering. As always she got fucked over. Now she has to deal with a son that’s got four deaths on his conscience. Poor mamma. Today’s Tuesday. Pasta, stew, vegetable. In a little while they’ll do the cell check. And then the janitor should drop by with a little dope the guys in the block gave me, something to console me for being back in jail. Let’s hope it’s a decent taste. So I spend the afternoon zonked and don’t think about a fucking thing.