My grandfather was a Cosa Nostra hitman. Now I know the truth about the Mafia

As a child, he sensed that his family was keeping secrets. Conversations between adults would suddenly stop, and people would allude to "the incident". It was only many years later that Vincenzo De Caro discovered that his grandmother's brother was Gaspare Mutolo, a Cosa Nostra hitman, chauffeur to Mafia boss Totò Riina and, later, a justice collaborator. He also discovered that his grandfather, Vincenzo, had stood up to the Mafia – including its presence within his own family – by turning to magistrate Giovanni Falcone, who would be murdered by the Mafia in 1992, and leaving Palermo with his wife and six children in 1987. It is a family story marked by escape, separation and silence, which De Caro, born and raised in northern Italy, has pieced together in Il gioco del silenzio (The Game of Silence), the documentary he directed and which was presented at the Rome Film Festival. How did you discover the truth? "Almost by chance, about twelve years ago. There had always been coded conversations in my family: a game of talking about something without actually talking about it. They called it 'the incident', the uncle's incident, the grandfather's. The tone of conversations would suddenly change, and for a split second you would hear words such as 'prison' or 'escape'. Then I started looking things up online, and everything became clear. I felt anger, denial and a desire to distance myself from it all. Then came the inevitable curiosity." How had your family explained the move to northern Italy? "I was told that we had moved to follow my grandfather's carpentry business. I suspected that wasn't the whole truth, but I didn't know why." Then you came across an article in the newspaper l'Unità about your grandfather's protest at the Colosseum in July 1994. "That was the second revelation: discovering my grandfather in a completely different light, as someone who had rebelled against the Mafia and was calling for greater protection for the relatives of Mafia informants. Suddenly, a story that had been hidden away, shrouded in shame, also became a story of resistance to the Mafia. It felt much closer to home: this was about the grandfather I had grown up with, not an uncle." Had you ever asked your parents about it? "The story was taboo, so I worked through it on my own. I didn't feel I had the right to ask questions. The camera became an excuse to start talking. It made things easier." Let's go back to 1987, when your family was forced to leave Palermo. "My grandfather decided to approach Falcone. The Mafia had become a threat that was simply too close to home. He had taken a stand against it by turning down a job offer, which was considered a serious affront. With his children still teenagers, he chose to put his trust in the justice system. It was an admirable decision, but one that meant uprooting the entire family." You also found your grandfather's testimony at the Maxi Trial, the landmark trial of Cosa Nostra. "My grandmother's accounts and my grandfather Vincenzo's testimony were like two slaps in the face that shook me out of my confusion. They made me realise that my family had been on the right side." Your family fled five years before Mutolo began collaborating with the authorities. "At that point, eight of them left Palermo: my grandfather, my grandmother and their children. When Gaspare eventually became a justice collaborator, the shockwaves would reach an entire network of relatives, many of whom I don't even know. Today, around 300 family members are scattered across Italy." They lost everything, even their surname. Have you been in touch with any of them? "Yes. But a large part of what could have been my extended family is made up of strangers, people with whom it is difficult to establish any kind of connection." In the film, you obscure the faces of relatives in photographs because they chose not to take part. Was fear behind their decision? "The feeling closest to what I experienced myself is shame: being associated with that world despite having played no part in it. The film raises a question: are the relatives of Mafia members themselves victims of the Mafia? When you're on the inside, it is incredibly difficult to come to terms with that, because you're afraid of being judged." Gaspare Mutolo How have they reacted to the film? "They've told me they want to see it, and that in itself is a lot, because they didn't even want to talk about it before. But I respect their choices, and I tell the story of everyone's pain." Did you ever consider abandoning the film rather than reopening those wounds? "Many times. Having to confront the rejection of part of my family was painful. Many nights, I woke with a start , wondering whether I was doing the wrong thing. But speaking out was just as important as protecting ourselves." How did you feel when you met Gaspare Mutolo? "I was tense and terrified. His reputation precedes him. I found an elderly man who seemed harmless, and I recognised certain mannerisms: little things that took me back to the walls of my childhood home, even though he had never been there. Then he told me about a different Sicily from the one I knew. That's where the distance between us needs to begin. And the fear." How do you view Mutolo's role as a justice collaborator? "From everything I've researched, his account has always been very consistent. He played a crucial role during the years of the Mafia massacres, at a time when Riina was facing arrest. For us as relatives, it is difficult to pass judgement. Justice collaborators are essential – Falcone fought to make sure they could come forward – but the more a former Mafia member exposes himself, the greater the repercussions for his relatives." Former Mafia hitman turned state witness Gaspare Mutolo, who once shared a prison cell with Cosa Nostra's "boss of bosses" Totò Riina, attends a meeting with the foreign press in Rome on 17 November 2017 Did you ask him about the people he had killed? "He tells you what he has to tell you: he was following orders, there was no other way, he is now repentant. I tried to let the images do the talking." Did your grandmother, Gaspare's sister, ever reconcile with him? "They had been close when they were young, but she disagreed with the choices he had made. She suffered because of it, and eventually they each went their own way. They saw each other again before my grandmother died." What was it like returning to your parents' old neighbourhood in Palermo with them? "My father and I were a little apprehensive. Nobody is obliged to play the hero. But it was moving to see people recognising him. It confirmed that ours had been an ordinary family, uprooted by the very place we lived in. The only thing missing from the doorbell panel was our surname. It was a powerful and painful experience." This article was reviewed by an external translation partner