Kaminsky was awakened by the ringing of the telephone:
<<Good morning inspector, this is Captain Asante speaking…>>
“It’s barely 6:30 in the morning! What on earth will he have to tell me that’s so important at this hour?” he thought.
And the commander, as if he had read his subordinate’s mind:
<<We are in America and not in Germany! You must get used to being on the alert, at all times, I am expecting you within an hour and a half in my office for something important.>>
The inspector stood with the handset in his hand beside his right ear and it took several seconds for him to realize that his superior had disconnected the line, without even saying goodbye.
<<African-American phone!”>>, he said to the handset, before placing it back on the device. He got up sleepily with his blond hair tousled and went to the bathroom. He did not eat breakfast and went down the street after calling the cab service from his home landline.
He waited a few minutes and the yellow public car arrived. Traffic on the streets was as usual heavy.
Crossing Manhattan’s East Village neighborhood he saw a mural that reminded him of the Berlin Wall and the days that spurred its final fall. They were his last days as a lieutenant in the service of the “Grenztruppen der DDR.”

He still had it all etched in his memory:

– It was a gray, dreary day in East Berlin, and the sun was struggling to peek out from behind a thick blanket of clouds. Czechoslovakia could no longer stand the brunt of the refugees and was threatening to close its borders. The pressure was becoming explosive and the situation in East Germany was getting out of hand. A multitude of seemingly disorderly groups continued to swarm the streets.
A mimeograph appeared in the crowd, stating verbatim Schabowski’s statements, which had already been publicly announced on TV.
Multitudes of people, as if mad, tried to break down the wall with picks and clubs. Others shouted, chanted wildly and tried to climb over it in the most diverse ways.
There was nothing left for the soldiers guarding the wall to do but choose: call for reinforcements and fire on the crowd or raise the bar. Kaminsky chose not to order firing since he understood that by now the regime was dissolving and falling like the wall…-
<<We have arrived at our destination Sir>>, said the taxi driver twice because his customer seemed to be in a trance. In fact Kamiński shook his head as if he had been interrupted by a daydream. So he paid for the transportation service and after a few minutes found himself in Captain Victor Asante’s office inside the NPYD building.
<<Good morning Inspector, this is Lieutenant Eva Cammarata of the FBI. She will join you in the “Missing young women” investigation.>> The woman stood up to shake hands with her new colleague.
She was at least as tall as Kamiński: 5 feet 7 inches, dressed in a gray skirt suit, black sheer tights, and black loafers. She had medium dark hair, full lips, large dark eyes and a French nose.
“That’s crazy, she looks so much like my Italian ex-girlfriend,” Kaminsky thought, and the woman noticed his expression of astonishment.
<<But is she Italian? >>, the inspector asked.
<<My father is Sicilian, specifically from Syracuse, and my mother is American>>, Cammarata replied.
Asante interrupted them:
<<Well, be seated>>, inviting them with outstretched hands to the two chairs in front of him and smiled toward Kaminsky saying to him, in a mocking tone:
<<As you see inspector, ironically you happened to have a colleague who is practically Italian as your former flame.>>
Kaminsky, sitting down, smiled through gritted teeth.
<<I have already briefed Lieutenant Cammarata about the investigation. You will have a Cadillac at your disposal and don’t worry inspector because it will always be driven by your fellow motor enthusiast as well as your work in the FBI. Since, apparently she often prefers to use the Taxi>>, said Asante always in a mocking tone.


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