John Grisham - 2007 - Playing for Pizza.pdf - fuyuhoshikim

license plates, then the rear. The glove box was opened, carefully, as if it might just hold a bomb. Then the
trunk. Rick grew bored with it and leaned against the left front fender. They huddled, consulted, and radioed
headquarters, then the inevitable paperwork began with both officers scribbling furiously. Rick was very
curious about his crime. He was certain that registration laws had been broken, but he would plead not guilty
to any moving violation. He thought about calling Sam, but his cell phone was next to his bed. When he saw
the tow truck, he almost laughed. After the Fiat disappeared, Rick was put into the rear seat of the police car
and driven away. No handcuffs, no threats, everything nice and civilized. As they crossed the river, he
remembered something in his wallet. He pulled out a business card he had taken from Franco's office and
handed it to Dini in the front seat. "My friend," he said.
Giuseppe Lazzarino, Giudice. Both cops seemed to know Judge Lazzarino quite well. Their tone, demeanor,
and body language changed. Both talked at once in muffled voices, as if they didn't want their prisoner to hear.
Aski sighed heavily as Dini's shoulders sagged. Across the river, they changed directions and for a few
minutes seemed to go in circles. Aski called someone on the radio, but did not find whomever or whatever he
wanted. Dini used his cell phone, but he, too, was disappointed. Rick sat low in the rear seat, laughing at
himself and trying to enjoy the tour of Parma. They parked him on the bench outside Franco's office, the same
spot Romo had selected about twenty-four hours earlier. Dini reluctantly went inside, while Aski found a spot
twenty feet down the hall, as if he had nothing to do with Rick. They waited as the minutes dragged by. Rick
was curious as to whether this qualified as a real arrest, or one of the Romo variety. How was one supposed to
know? One more altercation with the police, and the Panthers and Sam Russo and Signor Bruncardo and his
paltry contract could all take a hike. He almost missed Cleveland. Loud voices, then the door swung open as
his fullback charged through, Dini in tow. Aski bolted to attention. "Reek, I am so sorry," Franco thundered as
he yanked him from the bench and smothered him with a bear hug. Tm so sorry. There is a mistake, no?" The
judge glared at Dini, who was studying his very shiny black boots and looked somewhat pale. Aski was a deer
in headlights. Rick tried to say something, but words failed him. In the doorway, Franco's cute secretary
watched the encounter. Franco unloaded a few words at Aski, then a sharp question for Dini, who tried to
answer but thought better of it. Back to Rick. "Is no problem, okay?"
"Fine," Rick said. "It's okay." "The car, it is not yours?" "Uh, no. I think Signor Bruncardo owns it." Franco's
eyes widened and his spine stiffened. "Bruncardo's?" Both Aski and Dini partially collapsed at the news. They
stayed on their feet but couldn't breathe. Franco shot some harsh Italian at them, and Rick caught at least two
"Bruncardo's." Two gentlemen who appeared to be lawyers--dark suits, thick briefcases, important airs-approached.
For their benefit, and Rick's and his staffs, Judge Lazzarino proceeded to blister the two young
cops with the fervor of an angry drill sergeant. Rick immediately felt sorry for them. After all, they had treated
him with more respect than a common street criminal could expect. When the tongue-lashing was over, Aski
and Dini scattered, never to be seen again. Franco explained that the car was being retrieved that very moment
and would be returned to Rick immediately. No need to tell Signor Bruncardo. More apologies. The two
lawyers finally drifted into the judge's office, and the secretaries returned to work. Franco apologized again,
and to show his sincere regret at the way Rick had been welcomed in Parma, he insisted on dinner the
following night at his home. His wife--very pretty, he said-- was an excellent cook. He would not take no for
an answer. Rick accepted the invitation, and Franco then explained that he had an important meeting with
some lawyers. They would see each other at dinner. Farewell. "Ciao."