The Scandal of the Century Read online

  NOBODY SENT HER FLOWERS

  After that investigation, rushed through in four days, the police reached the conclusion that Wilma was an exceptionally serious and reserved girl, who had not had any love in her life for anyone but Giuliani. It was accepted that she only went out in the company of her mother and her sister, in spite of these two admitting that in recent months—after her fiancé was transferred to Potenza—Wilma had acquired the habit of going out alone almost every day, and always at the same time: from 5:30 to 6:30 in the evening.

  The building’s concierge, Adalgisa Roscini, remembered in turn never having received a bouquet of flowers for Wilma. And she assured the investigators that the girl had never received a letter from anyone except her fiancé.

  NOTHING’S HAPPENED HERE

  On the basis of these declarations it was concluded—in a report dated April 16—that, since there were no reasons to doubt the Montesi family’s declarations, it should be taken as certain that, in fact, Wilma had gone to Ostia to take a footbath. It was supposed that the girl had chosen a part of the beach that she knew from having been there the year before and had begun to take her clothes off, sure that she couldn’t be seen by anyone. The girl had lost her balance due to a hollow in the sandy bottom, and had drowned accidentally. The report finished by saying that death must have occurred between 6:15 and 6:30, since Wilma—who never arrived home later than 8 at night—should have taken the 7:30 train.

  “THE SCANDAL OF THE CENTURY”

  That would have been the melancholy ending to the Montesi case, if there had not been newspapers in the streets telling people there was much more to it than met the eye. It started on the very day the body was identified, when Angelo Giuliani, Wilma’s fiancé, observed the small bruises that the newspapers would later talk about, without conferring any importance to them. When he left the morgue, Giuliani told a journalist of his observation and declared his certainty that Wilma had been murdered.

  While the police considered that Wilma Montesi had died by accident, the press kept demanding justice. On May 4 Il Roma, a newspaper based in Naples, dropped the dynamite bomb that would set off “the scandal of the century.” According to an article published by that paper, Wilma Montesi’s missing garments had been left at Rome’s central police station, where they had been destroyed. They had been taken there by a young man in whose company Wilma Montesi had been seen in the first half of March, in an automobile that got stuck in the sand, near the Ostia beach. The name of the young man was published: Gian Piero Piccioni. He was none other than the son of Italy’s minister of foreign relations.

  Public Opinion Comes into Play

  The spectacular news published in Il Roma, a rabidly monarchic newspaper, was picked up, prettied up, and augmented by every paper in the country. But the police were going in another direction. On May 15, the Ostia Lido police produced a report on the only indications they’d found to establish Wilma Montesi’s presence in Ostia, on the afternoon of April 9. These were the declarations of a nursemaid, Giovanna Capra, and of a manager of a newspaper kiosk in Ostia station, Pierina Schiano.

  According to the nursemaid, at six o’clock on the evening of April 9, she had seen a girl who looked like Wilma Montesi, according to the pictures in the papers, heading toward the Marechiaro establishment. But she hadn’t noticed the color of her coat.

  The manager of the newspaper kiosk told the police, without hesitating, that Wilma Montesi had bought a postcard in Ostia station, had written it there and then, and mailed it. Later, according to this declaration, Wilma had gone, alone the entire time, toward the marshland canal. The card Wilma had written had been addressed to “a soldier in Potenza.”

  THE CARD NEVER ARRIVED

  The investigators questioned the two witnesses and dismissed both statements. But while the first did not remember any of the personal characteristics of the girl she saw on the beach at Ostia, the second declared with no hesitation that she was wearing a white sweater. The manager of the newspaper kiosk confirmed that the postcard was addressed to “a soldier in Potenza,” but could not supply any detail of the address.

  In a later interrogation of Giuliani, the police confirmed that he had not received any postcards. And Wilma’s mother and sister verified that the girl did not have a pen in her purse. Finally it was established that the place where the nursemaid said she saw Wilma at 6:00 is more than two miles away from the Ostia station newspaper kiosk.

  THE GIRL IN THE AUTOMOBILE

  But while the police went on destroying testimonies, the newspapers continued stirring up the scandal. And it was discovered that on April 14, two days after the discovery of Wilma’s corpse, a mechanic from Ostia had gone to the police post to tell the story of the automobile stuck in the sand that Il Roma had mentioned in its sensational article. The mechanic’s name was Mario Piccini. And he told the police that in early March, when he was working for the Ostia railway station, he had been summoned by a young man, shortly before dawn, to help him tow his automobile. Piccini says he went with pleasure, and that during the maneuver he noticed the presence of a girl aboard a bogged-down automobile. That girl looked very much like the pictures of Wilma Montesi published by the newspapers.

  IT HAS TO DO WITH PRINCES

  The Rome police did not show the slightest interest in the mechanic’s spontaneous declaration. But the judicial police did a quick investigation and discovered something different. They discovered that at six o’clock on the evening of the 9th or 10th of April an automobile had passed by that same place driven by a well-known young Italian aristocrat, Prince Maurizio D’Assia. According to that investigation, the distinguished gentleman was accompanied by a girl, who was not Wilma Montesi. The aforementioned automobile was seen by the guard Anastasia Lilli, Carabinieri Lituri, and a worker called Ziliante Triffelli.

  THE BOMB!

  The Ostia police officially abandoned their search for the items of clothing the corpse was missing. A lawyer called Scapucci and one of his sons, who were walking near Castelporziano on April 30, found a pair of women’s shoes. Believing they were Wilma Montesi’s, they took them to the police. But the victim’s relatives declared that they were not the shoes the girl had been wearing the last time she left her house.

  In light of the fact that there was nothing to be done, the attorney general of the Republic prepared to close the case, confirming the hypothesis of accidental death. That was when the modest and scandalous monthly magazine Attualità, in its October issue, put another stick of dynamite under the investigation. Under the byline of its editor in chief, the magazine published a sensational chronicle: “The Truth About the Death of Wilma Montesi.”

  The editor of Attualità was Silvano Muto, an audacious thirty-year-old journalist, with the face of a movie star, who dressed like a movie star, with a silk scarf and dark sunglasses. His magazine, it is said, was the least read in all of Italy—therefore, the poorest. Muto wrote it from the first page to the last. He himself sold advertising space and kept it afloat by the skin of his teeth, simply out of the desire to have a magazine.

  But after the October 1953 issue, Attualità turned into an enormous monster. Readers punched each other every month at the doors of its offices to get a copy.

  That unexpected popularity was due to the scandalous article on the Montesi case, which was the first firm step public opinion took toward finding out the truth.

  The Reader Should Remember

  That Wanda Montesi did not remember that Wilma had invited her to Ostia until several days after her disappearance.

  That the police did not interrogate the mechanic Mario Piccini.

  The testimony of Carabinieri Lituri relative to the sighting of Prince D’Assia’s automobile.

  The name Andrea Bisaccia.

  NAMELESS PERPETRATOR

  In his article, Muto affirmed:

 
The person responsible for Wilma Montesi’s death was a young musician from Italian radio, son of a prominent political personality.

  Due to political influences, the investigation had gone forward in such a way that little by little silence would fall over it.

  He highlighted the reserve maintained around the results of the autopsy.

  He accused the authorities of not wanting to identify the culprit.

  He related Wilma Montesi’s death with the trafficking of narcotics, to which he found it linked; he also talked about orgies in the area, in Castelporziano and Capacotta, with drug abuse, during one of which Montesi had died, not being a habitual user of narcotics.

  The people present at the party moved the body to the neighboring beach of Torvaianica, to avoid a scandal.

  CASE CLOSED

  On October 24, 1953, Silvano Muto was summoned by the Roman district attorney’s office to be held to account for his article. Muto calmly declared that it was all lies, that he’d written the article only to increase circulation of his magazine, and he admitted to having proceeded flippantly. In view of that overwhelming retraction, Muto was charged with “spreading false and tendentious news and for disrupting public order.” And the brief of the Montesi case was shelved in January 1954, by order of the attorney general’s office.

  AGAIN?

  However, when Silvano Muto showed up in court to answer for his scandalous article, he again said what he’d written and added new details. And for the first time he gave proper names; he said the material for his article had been supplied by Orlando Triffelli, according to whom his brother had recognized Montesi in an automobile stuck in the sand on the 9th or 10th of April 1953, in front of the Capacotta security guard’s hut. Furthermore, he said he had received confidential revelations from two of those present at the epic orgies of liquor and drugs: Andrea Bisaccia and the television actress Anna María Caglio.

  THE DANCE BEGINS

  Andrea Bisaccia was summoned to testify. In an alarming state of nervousness, she denied having said anything to Silvano Muto. She said that it was a fantastical story, invented with the aim of destroying her intimate friendship with Gian Piero Piccioni, son of the minister of foreign relations and well-known composer of popular music. She finished off by saying that Silvano Muto’s idiotic scheme had made such an impression on her that on the 9th of January she had attempted suicide.

  The only place left for Muto was jail, and for the Montesi dossier a definitive stay in the dusty judicial archives of Rome. But on February 6, Anna María Caglio turned up at a police station and very serenely, in her professional announcer’s voice, told the dramatic story of her life.

  Secret Rendezvous in the Ministry of the Interior

  Anna María Caglio was the lover of Ugo Montagna, an affluent gentleman, friend of notable personalities, and famous for his romantic adventures. He called himself “the Marchese of Montagna,” and he was known and treated as a marchese in all circles. Anna María Caglio told the police that she didn’t know Wilma Montesi. But she had seen her picture in the papers and identified her as the dark-haired, well-built, and elegant young woman who, on the evening of January 7, 1953, had come out of one of Montagna’s apartments in Rome, accompanied by him. Both got into an automobile driven by the marchese.

  That night, Anna María Caglio—according to what she told the police—had been involved in a violent jealous scene when her lover returned home.

  “THERE’S MORE TO THIS THAN MEETS THE EYE”

  When Anna María Caglio read the article in Attualità, she believed that the Signor X mentioned in that article was her own lover, the Marchese of Montagna. That’s why she approached the journalist, and told him that everything in his article was true. The night of October 26 she was with her lover, in an automobile. She asked him for an explanation, as she told the police. And the marchese, who was irritated, and a little nervous, threatened to throw her out of the car.

  To calm her lover, Anna María Caglio suggested they go home, to read Muto’s article in peace; Montagna read Muto’s article and didn’t say anything. But when Anna María Caglio went to put the magazine in the drawer of the nightstand, she saw a packet with two golden cigarettes and an ashtray made of precious gems. That discovery reinforced her suspicion that her lover was connected to some band of narcotics traffickers.

  A MYSTERIOUS MEETING

  Caglio insisted to the police that she had gone to Milan, her hometown, on April 7, and returned on the 10th. When she arrived in Rome, her lover was visibly nervous and upset by her unexpected return. Nevertheless, he took her home, where that night Montagna received a call from the son of the minister of foreign relations, Gian Piero Piccioni, who was preparing for a trip.

  Later, Anna María Caglio found out that in November of the previous year, a certain “Gioben Jo” had lost thirteen million lire playing cards in Capacotta with Montagna, Piccioni, and a high-ranking police official.

  THE NIGHT OF APRIL 29

  Anna María Caglio was dining with her lover in his luxurious apartment and getting ready to go to see a movie at Supercinema. A few days earlier, Caglio says that Montagna had told her that Piccioni was “a poor boy he had to help, because he’d got himself into a mess.” That night, when she was putting her coat on to leave, Anna María Caglio realized that Piccioni called Montagna on the telephone and told him he should go immediately to speak to the chief of police. Montagna rushed out and met Piccioni at the Ministry of the Interior.

  The Reader Should Remember

  Anna María Caglio’s declaration that Montagna and Piccioni had visited the Ministry of the Interior on April 29, 1953.

  The slip of paper that says, “I’m going to the Capacotta and I’ll spend the night there. How will I end up?”

  “The certain Gioben Jo,” who lost thirteen million lire at cards.

  “A VOLAR”

  An hour and a half later, when Montagna returned to the automobile where Ana María Caglio was waiting for him, he said he had been trying to stop the investigation into the death of Wilma Montesi. Anna María Caglio told him that was despicable, since whoever committed the crime should pay for it, even if he were a minister’s son. Montagna told her that Piccioni was innocent, since the day of the crime he had been in Amalfi. Then the girl asked Montagna:

  “And when did Piccioni return to Rome?”

  Montagna was indignant, and did not answer her question. He looked her in the eye and said:

  “Girlie, you know too much. You better get a change of scene.”

  “TI BUTTO A MARE”

  In effect, Anna María Caglio demonstrated that the next day she’d been sent back to Milan, with a special letter for the director of the television station. She returned to Rome on the 22nd of the same month, to celebrate her first anniversary of meeting Montagna. On July 27 they moved into separate homes, but continued to see each other in the apartment on Vía Gennargentu. At the end of November they broke up definitively, after the incidents caused by Muto’s article.

  Anna María Caglio told the police she had felt terror during those days. Her lover was becoming more and more mysterious. He received strange telephone calls and seemed to be involved in shady business deals. One night, exhausted by the nervous tension, Anna María Caglio says she asked her lover a question related to his businesses and Montagna answered her in a threatening tone:

  “If you don’t behave yourself, I’ll throw you in the sea.”

  THE WILL

  Anna María Caglio, in her dramatic tale to the police, said that since that night she’d been harboring the certainty that she would be murdered. On November 22, after having dinner with Montagna at the Matriciana restaurant, on Vía Gracchi, she had the sensation she’d been poisoned. Alone in her apartment, she remembered that her lover had gone to the kitchen persona
lly, to collaborate in the preparation of the meal.

  Terrorized, Anna María Caglio left the next day for Milan. Her nerves were shattered. She didn’t know what to do, but she was sure she had to do something. That’s why she went to visit the Jesuit Father Dall’Olio and told him the whole story of her life with Montagna. The priest, tremendously shocked by the girl’s tale, repeated the story to the minister of the interior. Anna María Caglio, tormented by a feeling of persecution, took refuge in the convent on Vía Lucchesi. But there was something she had not told the police: before she left for Milan, she gave her landlady in Rome a sealed letter with the following instructions: “In the case of my death, deliver this letter to the Attorney General of the Republic.”

  “HOW WILL I END UP?”

  The landlady, Adelmira Biaggioni, in whose hands Anna María Caglio had left the letter, was called to make a statement. She went to see the police with three letters, written in Caglio’s handwriting, and a little piece of paper the girl had slipped under her door before going out on October 29, 1953. The paper said, “I’m going to the Capacotta Estate and I’ll spend the night there. How will I end up?”