Mafia? What I know about the Mafia? – I’ll tell you: I was once married to an Italian, a gorgeous woman and an ardent Catholic. She was the daughter of a Carabinieri general, who was proud to have received a handsome payment from the Mafia for helping them kill one of their implacable opponents – down there they spring up like mushrooms after the rain, I am told. After I left her, I never lost the fear he might send someone to break my kneecaps. I still remember our last meeting: I stood outside of his black Mercedes: he lowered the tinted windows just enough for me to be able to see his sunglasses and the moustache holding them up: Son, he said, don’t forget your friends but don’t underestimate your enemies. I wasn’t listening well because I had my eyes on the rabbit leaning on him like my ex-wife used to. I swear it was grinning at me.