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Eva was easy to find and willing to talk. A month or two before the fire, one of Eva’s friends visited from Paris. Her name was Elizabeta, and she and Pier Lucio hit it off. She said she was going to move to the valley. Pier Lucio said he was going to build them a house.
I asked Eva if she had any pictures of Spadino, and all she had was one tiny snapshot and a photo cut from the newspaper. While I rode back down the valley to my hotel, I meditated on a guy who could go through life making so small an impression that his best friend would barely even have a photo of him. It reinforced the response I got when I toured the motorcycle shops in Val d’Aosta. Guys told me, “Yeah, we used to see him in here all the time,” but no one could remember what he rode.
Family Matters
As a family, the Tinazzis had bad, bad luck : Spadino’s dad died in a traffic accident in his early 40s ; his mother Franca had a debilitating stroke in her 50s ; his sister Daniela was married to an Italian state policeman who died of cancer in his 40s. Reporters plagued Spadino’s mom and sister after the fire, and neither is listed in the telephone directory.
A local Carabinieri—also a motorcyclist—bent the rules to give me enough information to find Daniela, the sister. When I did, she listened while I told her what I was there for. “I really should ask my mother,” she said, already shaking her head. But then she added, “Come in for coffee, anyway.”
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