He often wondered this question. What awaits beyond the threshold on the other side where death hides? Apparently, he will find out the answer very soon. The forty-five-caliber shot right through his throat. With the last of his strength, he tries to utter farewell words, but instead of phrases, blood gurgles from his mouth, flowing down his cheeks on both sides. A friend – the only person who was not indifferent to his fate – holds his head in his lap, tearing his own throat in an attempt to call at least someone for help.
Soon. He didn’t see his parents. A meeting with them is coming. The one who supports his drooping head has replaced his family. In such a short life, he decided on at least one thing – he would never return to the past, in which he could find a family and a carefree future instead of those criminal cases that he had to deal with since childhood. Having such a friend is the greatest luck and what more than covers the moral damage that life causes. He is glad that he had the opportunity to spend his whole life shoulder to shoulder with the one in whose arms he now meets his agony.
The sounds of police sirens intensify and drown out the mournful cry of the friend. Unable to say anything, he began to push his friend away from him, urging him to run away. No one will pull him out of the other world, and it would be stupid to fall into the clutches of the police just because he wanted to spend more time with a half-dead corpse.
The last wish has been fulfilled. The only person close to him left him. Surrounded by seven corpses, hot shell casings and broken glass, he heard the loud friction of car tires braking near the curb. Inside, everything was filled with the flashing glare of police sirens. Someone entered, trampling crunchy shards of broken glass with their soles.
After a couple of seconds, the figure of a policeman was reflected in his tear-stained eyes, but was not reflected in his mind. He crossed the threshold beyond which death met him.
April 1976.
– Everyone stand up. The trial is underway.
The courtroom was filled with the sounds of participants in the trial and others present standing up. A stocky, dark-skinned judge of average height took his place. He began to read the verdict in his firm, even voice:
– The verdict is announced. Massimo Spinazolla, you are sentenced to two years imprisonment in prison. Considering your age, as well as the fact that the act you committed is your first serious offense, the court decided to consider this sentence suspended. In view of this, I am assigning a probationary period of one year.
The judge looked into the room and said:
– Please, everyone sit down.
A couple of seconds later, until nine days before eighteen-year-old Massimo warmly hugged his lawyer and, clutching his cheeks with both hands, almost shouted: «We did it», – the judge turned to him:
– Mr. Spinazolla, I sincerely hope that you will treat my indulgence wisely. You have committed a serious crime and could spend a long time in prison. In view of this, the verdict can be considered practically acquittal. Do not let me down and prove to those present in this room that this heinous act was nothing more than a mistake that you will not repeat.
– I won’t let you down, sir… that is, your honor – Massimo said loudly in a fit of joy, jumping up from his chair.
The judge almost imperceptibly shook his head, paused, then hit his gavel and loudly announced:
– The court session is declared closed.
With a brisk gait in a business suit that looked unusual and ridiculous on him, Massimo moved towards the exit, accompanied by the lawyer. He did not pay attention to the dissatisfied grimace of the prosecutor, who was counting on at least a short but realistic sentence. They passed the threshold in the stream of witnesses to the trial.
Massimo quickened his pace, turning to the lawyer:
– Let’s go faster, otherwise this kingdom of morality is bothering me.
His interests were defended in court by forty-three-year-old lawyer Kurt Miller. He was instructed to defend Massimo’s interests in court at the expense of the state, since the teenager said that he did not have money for a lawyer.
Stepping off the front steps of the courthouse, Kurt began to speak as he continued walking with Massimo towards the city park:
– How many times should I say, «YOUR HONOR». No sirs, misters, dudes or other gags. You must understand that the judge evaluates your behavior and from there makes a conclusion whether you should be given the opportunity and left free.
– Okay, okay – Massimo said indifferently, spreading his hands. – It all ended well.
– This time, yes.
– What else does this mean? I didn’t understand. Don’t you trust me?
