Il Silenzio del Gelso: Il Mistero di Matteo Rinaldi
Il gelo della sala server del RIS di Milano non era nulla in confronto al brivido che percorreva la schiena del brigadiere Lorenzo Moretti. Erano le tre del mattino del dicembre 2019, un’ora in cui i vivi dormono e i fantasmi delle indagini mai risolte sussurrano tra i circuiti. Davanti a lui, un monitor pulsava di una luce rossa, violenta, quasi oscena in quel buio asettico. Un “match” genetico anomalo. Non proveniva dai database governativi, ma da un banale test del DNA acquistato online per motivi di salute da un cittadino americano in Arizona.
“Comando, qui sala fredda,” gracchiò Moretti nella radio, la voce incrinata da un’emozione che non avrebbe dovuto provare. “Abbiamo un riscontro. Caso Rinaldi, 1988. Ripeto: Matteo Rinaldi. Il bambino del gelso è apparso in un database commerciale.”
Trentun anni. Per trentun anni quel nome era stato sinonimo di una ferita aperta nel cuore della Lombardia, un vuoto incolmabile che aveva trasformato la piccola Castiraga Vidardo in un teatro di ombre e sospetti. Tutto era iniziato in meno di centoventi secondi, un soffio di tempo in cui un’intera esistenza era stata cancellata. Un Fiat Ducato grigio argento che strisciava come un predatore, un’ammaccatura sul cancello, e un testimone che aveva scambiato un rapimento per una scena di vita quotidiana. Quel segnale rosso sul monitor non era solo un dato tecnico; era il grido di un bambino che, dopo tre decenni, chiedeva finalmente di tornare a casa. Ma mentre i Carabinieri si preparavano a riaprire le ferite, una verità ancora più atroce emergeva dalle pieghe del tempo: il colpevole non era un mostro venuto da lontano. Era stato lì, a ogni fiaccolata, a ogni messa, guardando negli occhi i genitori distrutti mentre portava in petto un segreto inimmaginabile.
In December 2019, in the server room of the Carabinieri scientific investigations department in Milan, immersed in a freezing silence, tens of thousands of missing persons files lay forgotten for decades. The green lights of the monitors cut through the darkness when suddenly one screen lit up red. High family correspondence. Rinaldi case, 1988.
The operator on duty, Brigadier Lorenzo Moretti, held his breath for a few seconds, then pressed the emergency button.
“Command, cold room here. We have an anomalous DNA match from a private commercial database. Colleagues from the investigative unit are needed immediately.”
What had started as a nocturnal self-check had just turned into something completely different, something that could finally provide an answer to the questions that had tormented the small community of Castiraga Vidardo, in the lower Lodi area, for 31 years. A disappearance that broke the hearts of a Lombard family in the summer of 1988, when little Matteo Rinaldi, just 3 years old, vanished from their backyard in less than 2 minutes, a silver-gray Fiat Ducato slowly driving down the street, a slight dent in the iron gate, a man carrying a child in his arms in the twilight shadows, and a witness who hadn’t reported the incident immediately because it seemed like a normal neighborhood scene to her.
Those tiny details had opened a terrifying chasm, plunging the entire country into chaos. The Carabinieri had sealed off the road, combed every bush, every bin and every square meter of earth, but all their efforts had been in vain. A shred of yellow cloth, adult shoe prints, an uncertain access point. Then the case ran aground, archived in the cold storage of the RIS for 31 years.
Only one name appeared here and there in the old notes, Mirella Parimbelli, the mysterious woman who lived a few hundred meters from the Rinaldis and who had disappeared from Lombardy the following day, disappeared from every Italian civil registry, as if she had never existed. The Rinaldi family had continued to wait in pain, leaving Matteo’s bedroom untouched for 31 years, until when a man in Arizona named Elia Parimbelli had casually sent his saliva sample to a genetic genealogy company for a simple health check, a banal gesture that had crashed into a secret buried for three decades.
When the Milan investigative unit received the alert, they immediately understood that it was not a simple genetic ping. The first piece of a chain that would bring to light secrets that had remained hidden for 31 years within a small community in the Po Valley. Because if that file was finally going to speak, the answer couldn’t be just any stranger; it had to be someone they all knew, someone they trusted, someone who had lived among them for 31 years, carrying within them an unimaginable truth.
The Rinaldi case is not just a mystery frozen in time, it is proof of the stubbornness of a family that never gave up hope, of investigators who refused to let a file vanish with the power of modern forensic science that gives voice to victims who have remained silent for too long. Also the story of a torn community where after the disappearance of 1988 suspicion spread like autumn fog. The neighbors looked at each other with suspicion, the families stopped talking to each other, the hidden fractures of a small Lombard town slowly came to the surface.
What makes this case particularly disturbing is that the answer has always been close, incredibly close. The most important person had been questioned in the very first days, yet he had slipped through the net. For years he had participated in torchlight processions, he had looked Matteo’s parents in the eye, he had kept an impassive face, as if he carried no frightening secret inside.
The summer of 1988 in Lombardy was still a time suspended between two eras: asphalt roads and shops open until late, but also gates left open, children playing freely in the courtyards, August evenings when adults chatted on benches with their front doors wide open, without thinking twice. In Castiraga Vidardo, in the hamlet of Cascina Nuova, daily life was punctuated by familiar sounds, the ice cream cart that jingled by, the air conditioners humming in the humid Po Valley heat, children screaming as they chased each other across the still sun-baked lawns.
The Rinaldis lived in a typical Lombard terraced house with an internal courtyard and a large mulberry tree that shaded the spot where little Matteo spent most of his afternoons playing. Eduardo Rinaldi, 34, worked as a refrigeration technician, a quiet and industrious man. In high season he left early and returned late. Silvana Rinaldi, 30 years old, part-time employee in the village bakery, sweet, patient, infinitely tolerant with her lively child. Matteo, with very blond hair and very blue eyes, curious and tireless, took his little red plastic car everywhere.
The person closest to him was his aunt Luisella, 19 years old, Silvana’s younger sister, who came every afternoon to lend a hand while her sister cooked or tidied up. Matteo ran towards her as soon as he saw her and Luisella knew all her habits and little pranks by heart. That day had started like all the others. In the morning Silvana had taken Matteo shopping at the Lodi market, a frugal lunch, and a nap. Then Luisella arrived, as always. Edoardo had called saying he would be late in San Giuliano Milanese.
Around 5pm the air was thick and stuffy. Silvana had opened the back door to let some air in while Luisella took Matteo into the courtyard to play under the mulberry tree. Everything was normal, until Luisella noticed a gray, silver Fiat Ducato, proceeding very slowly along the dirt road that ran alongside the courtyard. No headlights, slower than normal. It had seemed strange to her, but the driver hadn’t looked towards them. The van had simply passed and disappeared around the corner towards the main road.
Luisella had felt a shiver, but she hadn’t said anything, thinking it was someone looking for an address or a new neighbor. Shortly before dinner, Silvana had called Luisella into the house to help her take in the laundry as the sky grew threatening. Luisella had gone from the corridor towards the washhouse at the front. Silvana had turned off the oven and checked the stew. In those 60-90 seconds at most Matteo was still sitting under the mulberry tree with his little red car.
When Silvana had come out onto the threshold again and Luisella had returned from the corridor, they had both realized at the exact same moment that the courtyard was empty. The little red car lay overturned near the steps, the grass under the tree slightly trampled, but there was no sign of Matteo.
Silvana had called her name. Luisella had run around the courtyard, checking behind the vases, under the table, in the places where she sometimes hid.
“Matteo! Matteo, dove sei?”
No response, no noise. They ran to the back gate along the fence, then out into the street ahead, screaming louder and louder. They had knocked on the neighbors’ doors. Almost no one had noticed anything. One thought he heard running footsteps, but he wasn’t sure. Silvana had panicked, running up and down the street, screaming her son’s name, while Luisella checked every corner of the yard again, even opening the tool shed. Nothing.
After nearly 20 minutes of desperate searches in the yard, along the fence and on the dirt road behind, without finding even the slightest trace of the child, Silvana had staggered back up the steps. His breathing was shallow, his hands shaking as he grabbed his phone. Luisella continued to patrol the edge of the trees, screaming his name, but the silence made her fear grow ever greater. There was no more time to search for alone.
Silvana dialed 112.
At the 112 operations center in Lodi, Silvana’s call arrived just as the shift change was taking place. The wind whistling through the receiver and the woman’s broken voice forced the operator to have her repeat the details three times. When it became clear that it was a 3-year-old boy who had been missing for more than 20 minutes, probably having left the yard unseen, the call was classified as top priority and passed on to the nearest patrol.
The Alfa X Gazelle which was travelling on the Sepex SS283 less than 1 km from the village received the immediate order.
“Castiraga Vidardo, via Cascina Nuova 27, minore scomparso segnalato come codice rosso.”
Corporal Gaetano Lo Monaco and Carabiniere Ivan Zaccarini arrived with sirens blaring in less than 4 minutes. Lo Monaco came down first, observed the scene: an open courtyard, a couple of neighbors looking out, Silvana motionless on the steps with the phone still in her hand, Luisella breathing heavily at the edge of the back garden. He signaled everyone to stay still, then approached the family, asked calmly but decisively:
“Chi ha visto Matteo per l’ultima volta? Dove si trovava esattamente? In quali secondi precisi non lo avete più visto?”
Following the 1988 protocol for missing minors, he immediately initiated the three initial phases: verify that the child was truly missing, completely blockade the area around the house, and absolutely prohibit anyone from entering any areas where there might be traces. He made Silvana and Luisella repeat Matteo’s last position: sitting under the mulberry tree, red toy car in his hand. Edoardo hadn’t returned yet. Lo Monaco reported him for urgent tracing.
He quickly walked around the backyard, identified three possible escape routes: the side gate with a slight, fresh dent in the iron, the stretch of fence where the grass was bent unnaturally, and the dirt road out back leading to the fields with red and white tape. He marked off a one-block security perimeter toward the dirt road and radioed for backup to completely close off the area. While he waited, he collected Matteo’s description: 94 cm, very blond hair, yellow T-shirt with a Mickey Mouse design, denim shorts. Luisella added that the child rarely went beyond the gate alone.
He wrote everything down in his notebook. Then he ordered Silvana and Luisella to stay on the doorstep and not to move so as not to contaminate the scene. Seeing other neighbors gathering, he moved them a few meters away. The first information layering was completed. A 3-year-old boy disappeared in a very short time window, probably exiting the yard in one of two unsupervised directions.
After transmitting the first report to the headquarters:
“Minore scomparso, risposta immediata, richiesta unità aggiuntive e perimetro completo.”
Lo Monaco began the final securing of the scene according to protocol. The primary perimeter was established along the entire Rinaldis’ rear courtyard and on the dirt road behind it, where a natural gap led to the open countryside and brambles. He unrolled the yellow tape around every spot that might contain traces of the passage of a child or adult. The patrols that arrived as reinforcements were positioned at the four corners to prevent any access.
Once the ribbon was raised, Lo Monaco marked the three main areas with numbered flags: the stretch from the back door to the mulberry tree, the side gate with the fresh dent, the segment of fence that bordered the dirt road where the ground appeared unevenly compacted. He documented the first physical signs without touching them. Grass crushed in one spot under the mulberry tree, a light scratch on the ground near the gate, a deeper area with the clear imprint of an adult shoe. He did not analyze on site to avoid contamination, he simply photographed, numbered and marked.
At the gate he noticed a very small strip of earth, direction uncertain, but worth examining. On the back step, Matteo’s little red car was exactly where Silvana had last seen it. He measured the distance from the gels to delimit the playing area and placed two flags where small footprints mixed with the larger ones of adult shoes that did not correspond to any family member, while he signed demands that all the other soldiers stay at least 3 m away from the flags so as not to step on the ground.
Once the marking of the central core was completed, the sketch of the scene began on full-scale graph paper: back door, mulberry tree, wooden and iron fence, exit onto the dirt road, outside tap, garden table, bins. He coded every suspicious point: A for child tracks, B for possible adult tracks, C for visible objects, toy car, broken branches, signs of slipping. Another policeman took comprehensive photographs with a Polaroid.
Lo Monaco walked around the courtyard again to check that he hadn’t missed anything. Then he extended his inspection just beyond the tape, still within the family’s line of sight. Along the dirt road he found a patch of soft earth, with large, outward-facing adult footprints, deeper than a child’s. He cordoned off the area with six wooden stakes tied together with white string. On the left side he noticed a small depression next to the fence, consistent with someone having recently climbed over the still-damp soil from irrigation. It coincided with Matteo’s usual game path, he marked it as a peripheral track.
On the sidewalk in front of the neighbors’ house, he examined the stone passageway to the street, marking possible vantage points for future questioning. Having completed the physical reconnaissance, he returned to the center of the yard, rechecked the numbering of each flag, noted the time, approximately 15 minutes from arrival to full closure and complete sketch, standard for preserving a missing child scene in the summer of 1988.
A final sweep then he radioed:
“La scena è completamente sigillata. Pronta per l’arrivo degli investigatori.”
All blocking, marking and sketching work was recorded in the service log, ensuring perfect continuity at each subsequent stage of the investigation. After completing the armor plating and the sketch of the scene, Corporal Lo Monaco moved on to the next phase, collecting statements from everyone who was in the Rinaldi house immediately before and during the exact moment of Matteo’s disappearance. The goal was to reconstruct the most accurate timeline possible of the last 30 minutes preceding the event to minimize the psychological impact on the two women.
He had Silvana and Luisella sit on the bench on the front porch, away from the view of the empty courtyard. It started with Silvana, who was ultimately responsible for the child’s direct supervision.
“Signora, le chiedo di raccontarmi tutto in ordine rigorosissimo, senza tralasciare nemmeno un gesto che possa sembrare insignificante.”
Silvana, with a broken voice, reconstructed the sequence like this:
“Dalle 16:30 circa, io e Luisella ci siamo alternate a guardare Matteo. Edoardo aveva chiamato verso le 16:45 dicendo che sarebbe tornato tardi da San Giuliano. Eravamo tutti e tre in cortile dalle 16:50 alle 17:15 circa. Poi Matteo è rimasto quasi sempre sotto il gelso. Verso le 17:25 Luisella lo ha portato a sciacquarsi le mani al rubinetto vicino alla porta sul retro mentre io preparavo la cena. Dalle 17:25 alle 17:35 Matteo ha giocato soprattutto vicino alla soglia. Ogni tanto tornava sotto l’albero a scavare con il cucchiaio di plastica. Verso le 17:35 sono entrata in cucina per controllare lo stufato che sobbolliva. Sarò rimasta lì per un minuto, un minuto e mezzo. Quando sono tornata alla porta ho visto Luisella vicino allo stendino che parlava con Matteo. Poi, precisamente alle 17:38, ho sentito il timer del forno suonare. Sono rientrata per spegnerlo e asciugare il pavimento. Questa volta penso di essere rimasta dentro per un minuto e mezzo, forse due, perché ho dovuto anche pulire il vetro appannato. Quando sono uscita di nuovo verso le 17:40, Matteo non c’era più.”
Lo Monaco asked her if during those minutes she had heard any unusual noises, cries, calls, thumps. Silvana shook her head: nothing, just the hum of the fridge and the wind that was starting to get louder. Then it passed to Luisella.
“Verso le 17:37 ho attraversato il cortile per raccogliere la biancheria perché il cielo si stava scurendo. Matteo era ancora sotto il gelso. Quando ho lasciato la mia posizione, ci ho messo 10-15 secondi per raggiungere il portico laterale. Ricordo di aver visto la macchinina rossa vicino alla porta e di averlo sentito canticchiare mentre passavo. Quando sono tornata dal lavatoio verso le 17:39, il cortile era vuoto.”
Lo Monaco pressed her on the exact times of blindness. Luisella wrung her hands.
“Settanta o novanta secondi, forse un po’ di più perché avevo le mani bagnate e ho dovuto appoggiare il cesto prima di aprire la porta.”
Both statements converged on a critical interval, very short, but sufficient for a 3-year-old child to leave the courtyard or to be approached by someone between 5:38 and 5:40 pm, a maximum of 120 seconds in which neither Silvana nor Luisella had Matteo in sight.
Lo Monaco also asked about the movement in the neighborhood. Silvana only remembered a couple of cars passing by around 5:15 pm, no license plates noted. Luisella, however, confirmed with certainty:
“Ho visto un Fiat Ducato grigio argento guidare molto lentamente lungo la strada sterrata verso le 17:30. Non aveva i fari accesi, andava più piano del normale, ma il conducente non ha guardato verso di noi, poi è scomparso dietro la curva.”
He wrote everything down without commenting. His job at that stage was just to record. He quickly questioned the first two neighbors who appeared at the cordon. An elderly man said he heard light running footsteps between 5:35 pm and 5:40 pm, but could not tell whether they were those of a child or an adult. A younger woman recalled seeing a figure walking down the opposite sidewalk around 5:25 p.m. without stopping or entering any yard.
He then collected all the data on a summary board that he kept in the trunk of the Gazelle.
17:10 – 17:20: Matteo in the courtyard with both adults. 17:20 – 17:30: He plays alone, but still within Luisella’s line of sight. 17:30 – 17:37: Matteo moves between Solia and Gelso. Luisella moves away towards the stretcher. 17:38 – 17:40: Both adults out of direct field of vision. 17:40: Silvana realizes that Matteo is no longer there.
Highlighted the range 17:38 – 17:40 (90 seconds) in red as the window. Criticism to be compared with every physical trace found, also marked the temporal overlap between the loss of sight and the only certain sighting of the silver-grey Ducato 17:30 and the running footsteps heard by the neighbor. After double-checking the consistency of each timetable with at least one external observation, closed the blackboard and inserted it on stage as a provisional chronological table to be validated with expertise.
The first temporal reconstruction was completed. Once the chronological reconstruction with Silvana and Luisella was completed, Corporal Lo Monaco moved on to verifying the witnesses living in the immediate vicinity. The most significant report came from the reinforcement carabiniere who, while he was widening the cordon, had heard the Bosellis commenting among themselves that just that evening they had seen a man carrying a child in his arms on the dirt road behind the houses.
The Lo Monaco approached the couple: Giuseppe Boselli, 62 years old, a former worker at Italcantieri, and his wife Adele, who lived two numbers away towards the end of the street. He asked them to stay at a safe distance from the tape and began recording. Adele Boselli spoke first, her voice low but firm.
“Deve essere stato poco dopo le 18:00, forse le 18:02 o le 18:04. Stavo annaffiando di nuovo i gerani davanti perché si erano seccati con il vento. Ho visto un uomo camminare sulla strada sterrata, proveniente dal boschetto vicino al civico 27. Ha attraversato la strada e ha continuato verso il parcheggio sterrato che poi si apre sulla strada secondaria. Portava in braccio un bambino piccolo.”
Lo Monaco asked to describe the location.
“Il bambino aveva la testa appoggiata sulla spalla dell’uomo, le braccine penzoloni. Non si muoveva, non piangeva, non parlava. Sembrava addormentato. O forse no, non lo so. Ho pensato che fosse un papà del quartiere che lo portava alla macchina, come succede spesso, e ho continuato ad annaffiare.”
Giuseppe Boselli, who was coming out with the garbage bag at the time, confirmed:
“L’ho visto solo per pochi secondi mentre buttavo la spazzatura. Camminava con determinazione, un passo regolare, non correva. Sembrava uno che conosceva la strada.”
Lo Monaco pressed the time. Adele was sure:
“Ho iniziato ad annaffiare alle 17:58 perché avevo appena sentito suonare le campane della parrocchia. Ho avuto il tempo di prendere l’annaffiatoio e riempirlo, e l’uomo è passato 2 o 3 minuti dopo. Direi le 18:02 o 18:04, con la luce ancora buona, ma il cielo stava diventando grigio.”
Description of the man: above average height, thin build, dark shirt, long sleeves, maybe midnight blue or black, light trousers like beige or khaki, no hat, face not visible because he had his back turned and the child on his side. Of the child, Adele only remembered that he was not wearing dark clothes:
“Qualcosa di chiaro, ma con le nuvole non ero sicura del colore. La testa era girata verso il petto dell’uomo, quindi non ho visto tratti o espressioni.”
Lo Monaco wrote down on his notebook: direction from the woods, crossing the road, dirt parking lot, secondary exit of the village—a route that at a normal pace was about 10 minutes away. About 150-180 m as the crow flies from the Rinaldi courtyard. He mentally compared the family timeline: 17:38-17:40, interval of visual absence. 17:40: Silvana notices that Matteo is no longer there. 18:02-18:04: man with child spotted by the Bosellis.
About 22-24 minutes of difference, more than enough time for someone to leave the courtyard, reach the grove, cross the road and arrive at the observation point. He marked the direction with the letter D and the estimated distance on the scene diagram. He had both of them sign the statement, emphasizing that Adele’s was more precise about the time, while Giuseppe’s was more precise about the posture of the transport.
Boselli closed the witness phase by noting:
“Dichiarazione da verificare ulteriormente, ma compatibile con la cronologia familiare. Ciò non costituisce prova certa che il bambino trasportato fosse Matteo Rinaldi, ma deve essere investigato con la massima priorità.”
All the data flowed into the preliminary report with the Boselli spouses’ report marked as a key red level testimony. After Boselli’s testimony was closed, Lo Monaco received another report from a reinforcement from the Carabiniere. Attilio Meroni, a seventy-year-old retired former department head at the Vidardo factory, used to sit on the wall in his courtyard every afternoon to repair small tools and according to his wife “he sees everything that passes on the street.”
The Lo Monaco found him already beyond the tape with the straw chair still in his hand, made him sit on the opposite sidewalk and began the verbalization. Attilio Meroni spoke with the precision of someone accustomed to measuring things with a caliper.
“Ho visto il Ducato grigio argento due volte. La prima volta tra le 17:27 e le 17:28 esattamente. Stavo immergendo una chiave inglese nell’olio e guardo il mio orologio da polso perché devo lasciarla per esattamente 15 minuti. Il furgone veniva dal distributore Agip, andava pianissimo, come a 20 all’ora, come se cercasse un numero civico. Motore rumoroso, un po’ di fumo blu dallo scarico, modello vecchio della fine degli anni ’70, parafanghi svasati, cerchi larghi, colore argento sbiadito. Non appartiene a nessuno qui in città, lo giuro.”
Lo Monaco asked if he had seen the driver.
“Finestrino abbassato, braccio sinistro fuori, ma non sono riuscito a vedergli la faccia, troppo lontano e contro luce. Poi la seconda apparizione, tra le 17:41 e le 17:42. Sempre con l’orologio in mano perché controllavo se la chiave fosse pronta. Il Ducato è ripassato in direzione opposta, sempre piano, sempre senza fermarsi. Stesso passo, stesso rumore di motore, non ha girato in nessun vialetto, è andato dritto verso la provinciale.”
Lo Monaco immediately compared the times.
17:27-17:28: first passage. Matteo still visible. 17:38-17:40: critical interval of visual absence. 17:41-17:42: second passage a few moments after Silvana had started calling the child.
The second transit occurred exactly when the family was already looking for Matteo and panic was beginning to spread. Attilio Meroni added a detail that made Lo Monaco prick up his ears:
“Non ha mai acceso i fari, né la prima né la seconda volta. Con il cielo che si stava oscurando, chiunque avrebbe già acceso le luci. Sembrava non volesse farsi notare.”
He asked if anyone in town owned a similar vehicle.
“Mai visto. Qui girano delle Panda. Al massimo qualche Ritmo o Regata. Nessuno possiede un Ducato così vecchio e malridotto, e il rumore era come se avesse il filtro dell’aria rotto.”
Lo Monaco updated the chronological table:
17:27 – 17:28: Ducato, primo passaggio lento. Direzione distributore – Via Cascina Nuova. 17:38 – 17:40: Totale perdita di visione. 17:41 – 17:42: Ducato, secondo passaggio lento, direzione opposta, senza fermarsi.
Marked the vehicle as an element of very high interest and classified it under the heading of suspicious vehicle, double transit in the critical window. He asked Meroni if other neighbors might have noticed him, perhaps those from the 19th or 21st if they were out, but usually at that time they are still at home preparing dinner.
Lo Monaco closed his testimony with a final note:
“Avvistamento di un Ducato grigio argento temporalmente sovrapponibile all’intervallo di scomparsa. Nessuna prova di proprietà locale da ricercare con urgenza in tutta la provincia.”
The preliminary report now contained two red items: man with child in his arms sighted at 18:02-18:04; silver grey Fiat Ducato passed twice in window 17:27-17:42—both to be checked with the highest priority. Once the initial testimony phase was concluded, Lo Monaco returned to the rear courtyard for the first systematic physical survey of the traces already marked, without yet collecting them. The goal was to document each element in its original state before rain or further passage could alter it.
He started from the adult footprint he had noticed earlier. About 1.20 m from the side gate, clearly imprinted in the ground, still soft from the morning watering, he measured with the metal ruler: length 29.5 cm, width forefoot 10.8 cm, heel 7.2 cm, sole with worn tread pattern, probably Superga brand similar number 43-44. The greater depth on the heel indicated a firm support, as if a person had stopped or had used leverage to climb over.
He set up the tripod, shot from three angles: Zenith, 45 degrees, and parallel to the ground. Then he outlined the footprint with a circle of white chalk and numbered it “one”. A colleague applied a coat of spray lacquer to preserve the profile before a possible plaster cast.
He went to the side gate. The vertical iron bar had a fresh 4-5 mm indentation, approximately 18 cm long, with flakes of loose grey paint and a small horizontal scratch consistent with an impact on a metal body. On the ground below, exactly under the recess, he found a tiny flake of silver grey paint embedded in the grass, picked it up with tweezers, inserted it transparently and labelled it as exhibit C2.
Close to the fence, near the point where the grass was bent outward, he spotted a yellow cotton fiber, about 3 cm long, caught in a splinter of wood. Wearing new gloves, he removed it, photographed it in situ, and then sealed it in a fiber bag labeled C1. The color was identical to Matteo’s shirt.
He continued along the edge of the dirt road. Here the ground was more compact, but he still managed to isolate three partial adult prints, all oriented outwards. Same lug sole, same approximate size. The distance between one step and the next was about 72-75 cm. Quick pace, not running, but determined. The footprints disappeared after about ten meters, where the dirt road became more beaten.
Under the mulberry tree, the grass was flattened into an oval about 60×40 cm deep, the exact spot where Matteo played. In the center of the oval, besides the overturned red toy car, he found a small semicircular groove left by the child’s heel as he dug with the plastic spoon. Around there, however, two deeper adult footprints partially overlapped the children’s ones, one directed towards the gate, the other towards the little road, both coming from inside the courtyard.
Near the outside tap, on the still-wet concrete, he noticed a series of circular drops of light-coloured mud, averaging 15-18 cm above the ground, consistent with someone who, after walking on the wet earth, had stopped there for a few seconds. The drops were four, arranged in a semicircle, as if the person had turned quickly.
On the back door step, besides the toy car, he found a grain of reddish earth, different from the lighter local soil, stuck between the grooves of the sole of the toy car itself. He removed it with a spatula and sealed it separately.
Last point: the section of fence where the wood was chipped. The bottom board had a fresh crack 14 cm long with broken wood fibres towards the inside of the courtyard, a sign that something or someone had forced it from the inside towards the outside. On the ground below, a small oval depression 31 cm long, compatible with the sole of a foot that had been used as leverage to climb over. The depth indicated an adult weight.
Lo Monaco completed the survey in exactly 47 minutes. Each find was photographed, positioned on a metric scale, numbered and entered into the catenary register. The scene sketch was updated with the new acronyms: A1-A5 (child’s footprints), B1-B8 (adult’s footprints and marks), C1 (yellow fibre), C2 (silver grey paint flakes), C3 (reddish earth on the toy car).
At the end, the Rinaldi courtyard appeared like a silent painting. Abandoned red car, crushed grass, dented gate, footprints that led out into the countryside and then disappeared into the falling night. Lo Monaco closed his notebook and transmitted via radio:
“Scena completamente rilevata. Reperti principali: fibra gialla, scaglia di vernice argento, impronte adulte in uscita. Richiedo immediato intervento della Scientifica di Milano e dell’unità cinofila.”
At 8:17 PM the dirt road lit up with blue headlights. Three vehicles from the scientific investigative unit of the Milan Carabinieri entered the town: the Mobile Laboratory, the Canine Unit, and the station wagon of Major Anselmo Trezzi, commander of the crimes against persons section. Trezzi came down with his regulation hat pulled down over his forehead, greeted the monk with a nod and had the updated sketch handed over to him.
“Bene, brigadiere, ha tenuto tutto pulito. Ora vediamo cosa ci racconta davvero questo cortile.”
The sniffer dogs, two German shepherds trained to search for human traces, were sent out from the exact spot under the mulberry tree. The first dog, Argo, immediately took the trail, nose to the ground, tail high, pulling towards the dented gate, then along…
