Food critic, journalist, writer. But originally, a crime reporter. A street reporter. In those years—the years of the numerous unsolved murders of women, with the theory of a serial killerbeing investigated by criminologist Franco Posa andcovered by the Corriere since the beginning of the year—the now 71-year-old Edoardo Raspelli was at the crime scenes.
Who was Valentina Masneri, one of the victims?
“A ‘normal’ street, just a stone’s throw from Central Station and Via Vitruvio. Across the street lived a big name in sports journalism, Gianni Mura… In broad daylight, no one had heard a thing. I’ll never forget that house, that small balcony where, if I recall correctly, there was only one other apartment; the staircase with the wooden handrail and iron balusters…What I remember most aboutValentina is her husband’s behavior: I’d been bombarding him with questions for days, at all hours, and instead of telling me to get lost, we’d almost become friends. Another unsolved murder: I’d tracked down an old “flame” of that poor girl in Alassio, but my “investigations” also came to nothing.”
The Day of Simonetta Ferrero’s Murder.
“In a suit and tie, clean-shaven as the chief reporter, Giovanni Raimondi, had asked me to be, at 7 a.m. I was in the large room on the second floor, the newsroom of the *Corriere d’Informazione*, the afternoon edition of the *Corriere della Sera*, both headed by Giovanni Spadolini. It was my first day on the job. There was a cholera outbreak in Spain, and I didn’t even have time “to take off my coat” (the favorite phrase of the deputy chief reporter, Franco Damerini) before they sent me to Via Statuto, to the Health Office, with photographer Peppino Colombo to document the line of tourists waiting to get vaccinated. Half an hour later, the phone rang in the car radio—a contraption hidden in the dashboard: “Raspelli, head to Largo Gemelli, at the Catholic University. There’s been a murder.” An unforgettable, heart-wrenching professional baptism. I will always remember Peppino Colombo’s dramatic scoop, when he climbed over a gate and managed to photograph the tragic pool of Simonetta’s blood, and the girl’s funeral: in the chilling silence of the parish church in Piazzale Brescia, next to the murdered girl’s home, a cry rose high: “Simonetta,” screamed one of her friends. I can still hear that sound in my ears.”
What was Milan like?
“Gloomy, sombre, frightened, terrified. I was the first journalist to arrive on Via Cherubini on May 17, 1972, when Adriano Sofri, Ovidio Bombressi, Giorgio Pietrostefani, and Leonardo Marino ended the life of Police Commissioner Luigi Calabresi at the age of 34… In Sesto San Giovanni, a friend of mine, Police Marshal Sergio Bazzega, and Deputy Police Commissioner Giovanni Vittorio Padovani went to arrest the terrorist Walter Alasia, who massacred them… Giangiacomo Feltrinelli was found dead under a power pole, killed by an explosion (I remember his funeral chapel: a sea of forsythia with a scent so overwhelming it was almost suffocating)… Gianni Agnelli attends, mingling with the crowd, the funeral of Senator Borletti…”.
Have you ever received threats?
“Of course. After I created a column in *Corriere d’Informazione*, at Cesare Lanza’s behest, dedicated to the worst restaurant of the week, the ‘Faccino nero.’ Anonymous phone calls, insults, threats… Among my friends—or rather, a mentor—was Franco Tommaso Marchi, secretary general of the AIS, the Italian Sommelier Association, and, previously, a non-commissioned officer at Police Headquarters. I don’t know about now, but half a century ago, the cops knew the underworld well and, at times, would gather intelligence from them. One day he said to me: “‘You know they wanted to kill you because of your Faccino Nero? Then I begged them to shoot at you but not to kill you. Later, I told them to shoot you in the legs at most. Finally, I convinced them it would be better to let it go—the restaurant was doing fine anyway.’ I asked which restaurant it was. La Vecchia Milano. The owner? The boss, Francis Turatello.”
Of all of them, the most heart-wrenching case?
“Eighteen-year-old Cristina Mazzotti, a student at Carducci High School: kidnapped, held captive, left to die of starvation, and dumped in a landfill by her kidnappers, who were demanding a ransom; Paolo Giorgetti, 16, kidnapped in Meda and found dead in a burned-out car. All young, innocent, torn apart… And Laura Orsi, yet another unsolved case. Murdered and thrown into the river with a weight to make her disappear forever. She lived with her family in a house owned by Carlo Saronio, who was killed by the Red Brigades.”
How did the Carabinieri, the police, and the magistrates work?
“Aside from the technical perfection of American filmmaking, investigative methods and equipment have made giant strides over the past five decades… As for the 1970s, I wouldn’t want to overlook Carabinieri Colonel Rossi, or the super cops Achille Serra, Antonio Pagnozzi, Vito Plantone, and Francesco Colucci… But I believe they had to rely solely, or at least primarily, on intuition, tenacity, and informants…".
Is it possible that no one connected all those murders of women?
“Today, half a century later, I believe—and fear—that perhaps ordinary crimes, even ‘ordinary’ murders, received less attention than the ‘political’ ones: blacks against reds, students shooting at police and carabinieri, officers returning fire or firing first; blocked streets, looted shops… The Years of Lead, the 1970s, alas, involved everyone and everything in their agonizing crescendo.”