Tough Guy?

"What you write is not engraved in stone monuments, but is stuck in people's hearts and glued on people's minds. You are a disturbed guy. And what you write is disturbing."
adapted from Pericles

-So, I heard you are a really tough guy. huh?
-You heard wrong. Look at me. A skinny guy in the 60's. With all kinds of ailments, even hemorrhoids on my ass and Alzheimer in my mind and plenty of nostalgia in my heart. I'm not tough at all. You got a wrong guy.
-No, my info was good. They said that you're not afraid of dying, that you're unpredictable.
-I'm telling you. You got the wrong guy. I'm a coward, scared of death, scared of suffering, scared of truth, scared of everything. I am a scared dude, not a scary guy. I've got to get going. I'm tired. I need to get back to my cell and rest.
-We're watching you.
-Watch all you want. I've nothing to hide.

That conversion was surreptitiously recorded in the exercise yard in McCarran State Penitentiary outside of Las Vegas about three years ago. It was played back to you yesterday in downtown Phoenix Police Department in the interrogation room. A woman detective by the name Maritza Diaz and her colleague Carlos Castaneda grilled you for almost an hour, but got nowhere and had to let you go. The following was an excerpt from the interrogation.

-I'd like to know what's the probable cause for asking me to come here?
-Mr. Determinado, we want you to help us.
-Just call me Roberto. Help you with what?
-The gruesome deaths of eight Americans and one Canadian.
-Why me? Am I a suspect?
-No, not at all. But we found the circumstances of the deaths were highly peculiar.
-Listen, at one time and one time only, in a moment of stupidity, I shot a guy, I pleaded guilty and I did time. A long time, if I may say so. I learned my lesson. I got "rehabilitated", so they said. And I have been straight ever since.
-Wait a minute. I want you, Senor "Determinado", listen to your own words. Carlos, play the tape back. What exactly did you mean "'rehabilitated', so they said.?"
-It means what it meant. I assume you guys know the English language.
-Watch what you say, Roberto.
-And watch what you say, Maritza. I know my rights. I don't know what you guys are talking about. Unless you spill your beans, I am going to call my beanie, excuse me, Mexican, lawyer. I don't have to talk to you guys.
-Wise guy. We have here a strange pattern. All the victims were hit at the head with a metal baseball bat in a frenzy and the perp left a calling card (At this moment they both watched you intently for reaction. You looked impassive but interested at the same time), a typewritten quote which says "What does not destroy me will make me stronger. Dobedo."
-So, what did that have to do with me?
-All of the victims at one time and another had some work relationship with you who were known to evince an admiration for Nietzsche. You also loved to show off your ideosyncrasies. As a sign-off in your email, you put a bunch of mottos, one which is Dobedo. And all the deaths occurred shortly after you were released from prison.
-Coincidence. Nietzsche's quote is very well-known. And so is Dobedo.
-We'll see.
-Yes, we'll see. Unless you have reasons to detain me in this absurd interrogation, I have better things to do with my time. Ciao. Hasta Luego, amigos.

Outside the sun was beating down hard on the sidewalk. Heat waves radiated and glimmered in the cloudless, windless afternoon. You walked briskly to your car in a garage two blocks away, feeling strong and amused and not the least disturbed. The years, 20 long ones, spent in the pen had made you strong both in body and mind. You exercised six days a week. Monday was your Sabbath. And you read and read. You also did a lot of thinking and brooding...

Before you got into the car, a showy old blood-red 'Vette of 1989 vintage, you looked around to see if anybody followed you. You reached for your cell phone and speed-dialed your alter ego, your brother Silvio Stallone. " It's me. We need to talk. Same place. Tonight. Seven." You turned the ignition and the lovely soothing ballad calmed you down instantly. The power of music. One of this day, must learn to play an instrument. How about tomorrow? Maybe. No, maybe. Get to a store tomorrow and get yourself one of those piano-like things you always want to have. No more procrastination.
(cont.)