Column: with your feet in the concrete

There he is, with the phone in his hand. Whether the gentleman wants to tap a hundred thousand euros. Monthly payments of ten thousand euros are also allowed, because he is that affordable, the chairman of the local Chamber of Commerce. That's how it goes in Palermo, if you want something. Lots of rags for a piece of paper.

It happened to confectioner Santi Palozzolo. The friendly-looking resident of the capital of Sicily has been running a pastry shop for years. Extend a license for a while and then fifteen minutes later, standing on a piece of marzipan again. He must have thought so. That's how he did it for years. Never had any problems with it. Unfortunately, the Cosa Nostra are not the only crooks on the island. No, the officials are happy to help.

This has been a problem for some time now and certainly not just in Palermo. The people have had it for years, but as is often the case in Italy, politics is not in such a hurry. It may therefore happen that for years a bill to change anti-corruption laws lies in a dusty drawer somewhere between lowering the bottom price of the olive and an idea to ban wind. Because that's not what Italian hairstyles like.

This week it was finally time: the Senate passed an anti-corruption law. It doesn't really impress yet. The punishments seem to be getting higher and the fighters of evil are gaining more power. You know who also had a lot of power, you hear Santi think? Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino. These two investigating judges from Palermo dared to take on the mafia and were blown up in their car as a thank you.

However, the Palermo confectioner did something that others wouldn't even dare to think about. He called the police. Basta. It wouldn't stop with a phone call. The police needed more to arrest the officer and a decision was made that you often see in gangster movies. He got a microphone pinned on. And there you are, with all your courage. A thread under your chef's coat. You are nervously fiddling with it. You hope that it won't suddenly crack or that you will be caught. They are well aware of that. You suddenly find yourself at the bottom of the local river with your feet in the concrete.

Because of Santi's courage I suddenly feel like going to Palermo. Just for fun, I'll try to extort a local pizzeria, let's see how the pizzaiolo responds. But maybe I'll wait a little longer, because somewhere I'm afraid that a tiny message will appear in the newspaper. 'Confectioner from Palermo found in his own oven.'