THE IDEA
He froze, espresso cup still in hand.
There it was, neat and simple. Strange he hadn’t thought of it before.
He smiled.
He set down the small cup and nodded to the barista, who came over.
«Anything else, Marco?»
«A question: do you know the lawyer with the office upstairs?»
«Of course, he has breakfast here every morning, except when he has to go to court.»
«Is he good?»
The barista lowered his voice.
«They say he’s very good. But he seems a bit odd to me.»
«Why?»
«He’s obsessed with his dog, they always dress the same.»
«Well, he’ll do fine. I’ll go see if he can do something for me.»
«Some trouble with the law?»
«No trouble, just an injustice I’ve been the victim of.»
The barista burst out laughing. «Same as always, I imagine.»
Marco threw up his hands.
«It’s not my fault all these things happen to me.»
«Of course not. Just remember to pay for your coffee this time, though.»
Marco pulled a euro from his wallet and set it slowly on the counter.
The barista picked up the euro quickly. «Perfect. You still owe about ten more.»
Marco put the wallet back in his pocket. «Relax, you know I always pay.»
The barista made the cup disappear under the counter. «That’s not what I have on record.»
Marco headed for the exit without turning around. «The customer is always right.»
«Only if he has no debts,» the barista shouted as Marco walked out.
Outside, he looked for the intercom panel.
There were six nameplates. He read the first, the second, the third. On the fourth try he found it: a strip of dull metal, slightly crooked, with “Avv. Dario Berni” written in letters that looked hand-engraved.
He stared at it for a moment.
“He’ll do fine,” he thought.
He rang.
A few seconds passed. Then a crackle from the intercom, and a woman’s voice, clipped.
«Who is it?»
«Marco Piccini. I need a lawyer.»
Silence. Then:
«First floor.»
The front door buzzed open.
Marco stepped inside.
Back in the bar, the barista was already washing the little cup.
“Why does he always have to come here? With all the bars on this street…”
