One day in November

A story by Gareth George

Giuseppe had become hardened to sitting on the cold doorstep. He always chose the same one. Insulating himself from the chilly surface with yesterdays Gazzetta dello Sport, his favourite paper, he was content to watch people and greet his few friends as they crossed the piazza in his hometown Avella as it came to life.

Visitors never seemed to call at this house entrance and he never felt he was obstructing the smart front porch with the blue and white tiles he chose to occupy each day. His routine had remained the same since the death of his wife Isabella five years before. Cycling down the hill after a simple breakfast, he enjoyed the ritual of watching the town wake up.   Around ten o’clock it was always time to join his friend Saronni in Bruno’s bar for his morning cappuccino.

Today it was cold and the November wind prevented him from becoming too comfortable. Uncharacteristically he felt in a reflective mood. This was rare. He was not usually one to dwell too much on his past; he knew that this was better left in the dark recesses of his mind. Giuseppe for the whole of his working life had been a Mafia hit-man. He had been particularly valued by the Camorra one of the top five Italian Mafia Families whose operations extended well beyond their base in Napoli. Known, however, (throughout Italy) as Ricardo ‘Assassino’ Camorra, his reputation as a killer extended well beyond Campania.

His innocent boyish charm and his natural sunny countenance masked a ruthless streak, which enabled him to hunt down and clinically dispose of his victims without the slightest qualm of conscience. This natural disguise and the omerta or code of silence had enabled him to reach early retirement unscathed. The appreciative Mafia Camorra family had underwritten his safety by ensuring that the Chief of Police in Avella was always able to enjoy annual holidays well beyond the reach of his normal salary. Thus, Giuseppe continued to enjoy a life of leisure in the town of his birth. 

Always close to his Mother, Giuseppe’s childhood had, for the most part, been a particularly happy one. The loss of his Father when he was only four had not, for him, been a very traumatic experience; indeed it had just drawn him closer to his Mother who further indulged her only child. It was at school, however, that the darker side of his character had developed. An unfortunate stammer became a great source of amusement to his classmates.

Not physically very strong, he was unable to counter the bullying that ensued and the daily slights built up into a desperate need to seek revenge.  Viscentini and Paolo were particularly cruel to him and subjected him to a daily humiliation that by the time he reached fifteen had become unbearable. It was at this point that Giuseppe found his Father’s old gun.

With the meticulous planning that was to characterise his later exploits, he set about arranging the removal of his two classmates. Weeks of practice in the disused quarry in the hills behind the town almost exhausted his spare ammunition but in only a few weeks he was ready. Timing his meeting with Viscentini and Paolo to perfection he shot them both with a single bullet through the forehead. He had lured them to the secluded wood he had carefully selected and without preliminaries had ruthlessly gunned them down. With an exit strategy well prepared and an unshakeable alibi his tormenters had been erased at a stroke. At last Giuseppe felt he had established himself in manhood.

While many, at the time, found Giuseppe’s new confidence hard to understand they were even more surprised when he gave up a promising apprenticeship with the local garage and moved to Napoli. While the Police might have been totally non-plussed by the mysterious shooting in Avella the Mafia had not been so easily fooled. They could use a guy displaying these talents and in their regular employment the character of Ricardo ‘Assassino’ Camorra achieved legendary status.

Over the years his reputation grew as he successfully disposed of those the Mafia decided frustrated their plans. His trademark accurate shot to the head together with an astounding ability to always appear to be somewhere else made him an indispensable asset to those in the underworld needing an assassin. Rumor had it that he had been hired by the New York Mafia and was even responsible for the murder of Robert Kennedy when the latter had campaigned for a more rigorous crackdown on Mafia activities.

Was he getting soft?  Giuseppe admonished himself for taking this unaccustomed trip down memory lane. It was time to stop this and meet Saronni at Bruno’s? He refocused on the present. What was the lanky guy with the beautiful girl hanging on his arm doing just 10 meters in front of him? He had not really noticed their arrival having, been so lost in the memories he needed to forget.

For goodness sake, someone was taking his photograph. This was not to be encouraged. As he focused more clearly Giuseppe realized, too late, that he was in fact staring into the muzzle of a Walther PPK pistol.  The tall lanky young man, with a girlfriend as cover, held the assassin’s weapon of choice in a steady hand.

The bullet, however, slammed into his forehead before he could react further. In the brief moment before he lost consciousness for good, Giuseppe recognized that another Ricardo ‘Assassino’ Camorra had just been born.