1979
December 17, Rome
Antonio Leandri, 24 years old, surveyor

It’s a Monday in December. December 17, 1979. Christmas is just a few days away. The shop windows display merchandise awaiting customers, busy with last-minute purchases before the dinner and the ritual exchange of gifts. Even in the Trieste district, there’s a festive atmosphere.

Around 6:00 p.m., a car stops in Piazza Dalmazia, not far from number 25. A balding man steps out, wearing a green loden coat to shield himself from the winter cold. His name is Antonio Leandri, 24 years old, and he works as a surveyor. Today he went to the factory, as he does every day, and when he finished his shift, he decided to make some last-minute purchases. With the salary he earns, he supports himself and his elderly parents. They all live together in a building at 14 via Gattamelata, in the Prenestino district. His dream, in reality, is to become an engineer, so he enrolled in evening courses at the university, which he attends diligently. He’s already in his fifth year, not far from achieving his goal. He also has a girlfriend his age, Fiorella Sanfilippo, whom he’s supposed to meet at 7:30 PM along with two other friends. They’ve been together for two years; he hasn’t officially introduced her to his parents yet, but he plans to buy a house in Rome and marry her as soon as possible. He looks at his watch; he has some time before he needs to set off for his destination. As every Monday, they have a meeting in via La Spezia, not far from San Giovanni, between the Cisalfa Sport sporting goods store and the bar. Antonio often stops to chat with the store employees, whom he knows well. It’s still early, so he takes advantage of it to run one last errand right here in Piazza Dalmazia.

Unfortunately, he has chosen the wrong place. He’s coming out of a stationery store, a package in his hand, when suddenly he hears a voice behind him shouting, “Lawyer!” He’s a surveyor, he works at Contraves, in the Tiburtina area, where he does estimates. But he instinctively turns around, perhaps surprised, perhaps just curious. And in an instant, a bullet hits him in the arm, pierces his chest, punctures his lungs, severs his aorta. Antonio falls to the ground, dead. The man who fired the fatal shot, a member of a firing squad, is Valerio Fioravanti, better known as “Giusva,” one of the N.A.R., the Armed Revolutionary Nuclei. He killed him without even looking him in the face. But even if he had, he probably wouldn’t have refrained from shooting. And from hitting the wrong target.
Antonio Leandri’s is an unfortunate death; the result of a terrible case of mistaken identity, of a coincidence that seems like the product of a cruel twist of fate. The target of the NAR, in fact, was someone else: lawyer Giorgio Arcangeli, deemed responsible for the arrest of Pierluigi Concutelli, the assassin who three years earlier had killed Judge Vittorio Occorsio in the Trieste-Salario district.
Arcangeli’s law firm is located in Piazza Dalmazia, at number 25, exactly where Antonio Leandri parked his car. The instructions to identify the victim were provided by Sergio Calore, a militant of Ordine Nuovo and the mastermind behind the murder, the only one who knew the appearance of the informant lawyer: he has a mustache, is balding, and often wears a green loden coat. Not a very precise description but sufficient to identify the target. Except that by chance, a young man passes by the commando on the way, who, from behind, bears a striking resemblance to Arcangeli. A common young man, level-headed, not affiliated with any party, and having nothing to do with the climate of violence prevailing in the country. His only fault is having chosen the wrong moment to come to Piazza Dalmazia; and having chosen a coat of a certain color from his wardrobe.
The perpetrators of his death flee by car, but their reckless driving attracts the attention of an undercover police car. They are stopped after a chase, and in the car, machine guns, pistols, and bulletproof vests are found. Thus, Sergio Calore, Antonio d’Inzillo, Bruno Mariani, Antonio Proietti, and Paolo Signorelli end up on trial, with Signorelli being acquitted for not committing the act, Mariani sentenced to 30 years, and Proietti to 15 years. Sergio Calore, who by then had become a collaborator of justice, also receives a reduced sentence of 15 years. However, Valerio Fioravanti, who managed to escape, is sentenced to life imprisonment.