The meeting was almost always the same: the accountant's office in Carinaro, an industrial area of Teverola. But before they could begin speaking, security protocol was implemented. No bugs, no recordings. At least, that's what the protagonists intended. As soon as he entered, entrepreneur Salvatore Iorio was greeted by a well-dressed man with a graying beard, a Rolex on his wrist, and a cigar between his fingers.
"Give me your cell phone," the man, who introduced himself as "Andrea from the Prefecture," ordered. The phones were taken and locked in the office bathroom. Only then did the negotiation begin. The man was Andrea Garofalo, an inspector in the State Police and a member of the GIA (Interforce Anti-Mafia Group), the body that decides who can work with the Public Administration and who should be banned.
"Andrea of the Prefecture" and the threat of the "tram"
The method described by investigating judge Berrino was surgical: Garofalo, thanks to his position at the Caserta police headquarters, had advance knowledge of the ROS's confidential information. He knew who was under observation and who was at risk of losing their registration on the "White List." That's when his "partner," accountant Domenico D'Agostino, came into play. The unfortunate victims were shown a computer screen: "There were negative reports against me," Iorio recounts in his complaint, "they showed me the final confiscation order relating to my family members."
The message was clear: if we don't "appear" to you, your company is finished. Garofalo used jargon but unmistakable terms: "Time is tight now... you'll definitely get a beating, but we'll try to make you take a lesser beating." Or again: "If you'd caught the ban, they'd already have given you the ban and it would be over."
Model 231: The legal shield for bribes
To justify the money transfer, the duo had devised a ploy: the preparation of "Model 231," a corporate responsibility certification that, while not required by the White List, was touted as the only lifeline. The price? Extremely high. Iorio was asked for €10.000: €4.000 in revenue from the accountant for an activity that investigators described as "sham" and €6.000 in cash for the inspector.
Garofalo, with a bravado that the investigating judge described as alarming, called that figure almost a professional insult: "The prices are different and this is truly a flower... you go out for a meal at Punto Nave and spend this money."
The Easter bundle and doves
The suspects' greed emerges in almost grotesque detail. Cash wasn't enough. During one of the last meetings before Easter, Garofalo doubles down: "Make it four and six... and a couple of good colombe... Benito's ones, though!" An extra 80 euros, added to the thousands extorted to "pull the brakes" on anti-mafia controls.
The inspector felt untouchable, but he was aware of the risk: "Keep in mind that they'll arrest me if they find out anything like this... you shouldn't even speak to yourself." He hadn't reckoned with the courage of those, like Salvatore Iorio, who had already in the past denounced Casalesi members such as Franco Letizia and Sandokan's sons.
"My wife, like me, suffered all the harassment at the hands of the Casalesi clan," the entrepreneur explains, "and I decided to come and report it."
The "open style" system
In the pages of the order, investigating judge Berrino describes Garofalo's case as a "well-structured system of repeated, open-ended extortion." Iorio wasn't the only one involved. Arturo Di Caterino, another entrepreneur, was allegedly forced to pay €15.000 (€12.500 in cash) to prevent his grandfather's legal proceedings from halting his business.
Garofalo's threats were brutal: "If you don't implement this 231, you'll get a ban, and then, even if you're right, you'll resolve this issue when you're 50; it takes 20 years to resolve it." And again: "Salvatore, you have to listen to me! Otherwise, you'll hurt yourself here, really hurt yourself." The preliminary investigations judge's conclusions: a betrayal of the uniform.
Garofalo, known as an "investigative expert" for his stints at the DIA and the Flying Squad, used his expertise to operate in the shadows, knowing how to evade investigations. The picture that emerges is that of a public official who has put the state's most sensitive function up for auction: the fight against mafia infiltration.
In a challenging area like Caserta, the White List is life or death for a company. Garofalo and D'Agostino knew this well, and they had built their private market on that fear. Until a man who wasn't afraid of the Camorra decided he shouldn't be afraid of a rogue police officer either.
In short
The appointment was almost always the same: the accountant's office in Carinaro, an industrial area of Teverola.
- But before we could start talking, the security protocol kicked in.
- As soon as he entered, entrepreneur Salvatore Iorio was greeted by a well-dressed man with a graying beard and a Rolex on his wrist…
- “Give me your cell phone,” ordered the man, who introduced himself as “Andrea from the Prefecture.”
Key questions
What is the main point of the news?
The appointment was almost always the same: the accountant's office in Carinaro, an industrial area of Teverola.
Why is this news relevant?
But before we could start talking, the security protocol kicked in.
Which detail helps us understand the case better?
As soon as he entered, entrepreneur Salvatore Iorio was greeted by a well-dressed man with a graying beard, a Rolex on his wrist and a cigar between…
Interesting article, but it describes a case that is too complex with many omissions; the data seems serious, the corruption and extortion are described but there is a lack of cross-examination and the defenses of the accused are not forthcoming. The tone is neutral but too many confusing sentences, precise documents and judicial clarifications would be needed.