Looking through the one way mirror, I could tell I would never be able to understand the individual who sat across from me.
"He's eating spaghetti with a spoon?" I asked the officer who stood as a mediator and sort of chaperone beside me.
"Forks are too much of a safety risk." The officer replied blankly.
"Tis good pasta." Don Carleone said out loud, mouth still chewing the last spoonful while he works to get another one.
"I'm shocked you got me food this good, you must really want my help with this faker of yours."
"What makes you think this guy is a faker?" I asked him, curious and eager for his specialized opinion in such matters.
"It's obvious from the way he does things, it's random, yet too calculated. Can be predicted, not terror."
"He's killed a lot of people, that is terrorism." I stated blankly.
Son Carleone burst into a laugh. A hearty laugh like one who got told a real funny joke, the laugh was so strong he started coughing and had to drink water from the paper cup.
"Inspector. Death is just a by-product of terrorism. Terror in its simplest form is causing fear; making one feel unsafe.. killing faith."
He leaned in closer as though he could see me and wanted to make his point across.
"Terrorism, some could say, is a political weapon. Remove a government's facade of infallibility and you remove its people's faith."
"You're still a man of faith, Inspector. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here asking me how to catch him. If you'd truly lost faith in your system, you'd have stopped asking questions and started looking for someone to blame."
I thought back to when we started talking. I did in fact ask for information on how to catch Richard Joe for his crimes of shooting and killing in Letwe's Square.
"He shot and killed 4 people at Letwe's square, I'm pretty sure that firing rounds in such a secure place would shake people's faith in the government's ability."
"Shake, yes. But destroying the square with a bomb would destroy the faith."
"So he isn't a terrorist cause he didn't have enough money to get a bomb?"
"My dear Inspector, just 4 hours on YouTube with a lot of determination and you'll have enough knowledge to make bombs that could level the size of Madison Square multiplied by 3."
"So what do you suggest we do?" I asked, completely appalled at the way he demolished the chicken, eating it bone and all.
After a few seconds of chewing and swallowing he replied.
"Joe, like all other fakes, loves the attention. They feel important, so he'll hit again soon. In other words, continue as you're doing; gas him up, speak of it over the news, then let it slowly die out."
"So we should do nothing?"
"Exactly."
"And allow a killer to roam free?"
"Wouldn't be your first. And you know he would try to kill again, hence you catch him then."
"So you say..."
"You paid for my advice Inspector, the pasta was good so I gave it honestly and earnestly, yet I can't force you to follow it."
"You say terrorism is an art. Yet you're here, why?"
"Your cells are very comfortable. Food is not the best but I guess I can't have everything."
"Free housing, gym available, healthcare and food. Who wouldn't want to be here?"
I couldn't tell if the huge man sitting down with pasta oil on his mustache was serious.
"Plus, I can think of no greater terror to the people who lost family and friends to the train crash than them knowing I'll be out soon enough."
"You're in prison for life Don Carleone." I replied to him.
"Sure." He replied, flashing a smile that made me shiver.
As I walked out of the meeting room, I could still feel the fear in my bones despite my professional training and Don Carleone being behind a bullet proof screen.
I thought about what he said and realized it was a threat of escape, yet as the thought entered my mind it easily dissipated. This was the most secure underground prison in the world.
I could feel the pressure on my body reduce consistently as I took the elevator to the surface, my ears popped on a level along the way and the ground shook.
The elevator at the surface opened up to debris and rubble, an explosion had just gone off and sirens were wailing.
It took me 4 hours to get the details but apparently there had been another train crash on an underground railway, a little over eighty people killed, with the follow up explosion killing a lot more and totally decimating the track and the surrounding environments.
Coincidentally, the crash and explosion happened just above the underground prison network which led to the escape of a handful of prisoners, including Don Carleone.
I remembered the smile Don Carleone flashed me after I reminded him of his sentence and my hands grew cold with terror.
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