{"id":1520,"date":"2009-10-09T15:17:11","date_gmt":"2009-10-09T15:17:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1520"},"modified":"2009-10-12T13:27:22","modified_gmt":"2009-10-12T13:27:22","slug":"the-montesi-scandal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/articles\/the-montesi-scandal\/","title":{"rendered":"The Montesi Scandal"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I mentioned Alida Valli&#8217;s career being ruined by scandal in my review of <strong>Senso <\/strong>earlier.\u00a0 Well, it also involved (more closely) the composer Piero Piccioni, who was her lover at the time, so it&#8217;s probably worth reprinting in some detail an article from Time about it all.\u00a0 It&#8217;s also interesting to note that it all plays very much like the plotlines of several late 60s \/ early 70s crime films (youths get lured into salacious activities by corrupt rich people with tragic results).\u00a0 Anyway, here it is:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>Monday, Mar. 22, 1954<\/p>\n<p>Before Italy&#8217;s Chamber of Deputies, Premier  Mario Scelba spoke solemnly of affairs of state-taxes and governmental  reform, his government&#8217;s support of EDC, the dangers of Communism and  neo-Fascism. But the immediate threat to his new regime involved none  of these, nor did it lie within the walls of the chamber. It came from  a courtroom a few blocks away, where, as Scelba urged the Deputies to  confirm his Cabinet, there unfolded an unsavory story of corruption in  high places, of playgirls and midnight orgies and expensive decadence  revolving around the figure of a marchese-come-lately named Ugo  Montagna.<\/p>\n<p>Scelba won his vote of confidence as expected, 300 to 283, and for the  first time in three months, Italy had a govern ment able to command a  narrow majority in parliament. But it might not be for long. The case  of Montagna had rocked Italy, and it could well bring down the  government. For the case displayed, for all to see, the decadence that  infects too much of Italy&#8217;s moneyed classes, the irresponsibility of  privilege that embitters even men of good will.<\/p>\n<p>The Body on the Sand. The story be gan last April, when the body of  plump, pretty Wilma Montesi, 21, was found on the seashore sands of  Ostia, near Rome, clad only in a blouse and a pair of silk panties  embroidered with teddy bears (TIME, Feb. 15). Police declared that  Wilma had died by accidental drowning. Months later, brash young  neo-Fascist Editor Silvano Muto printed a sensational charge in his  monthly magazine Attua-lita. Wilma had not gone to Ostia, he said, but  to a swank hunting lodge in nearby Capocotto, where wild orgies were  conducted by a Roman nobleman who ran a narcotics ring. Wilma, said  Attualita, apparently passed out from too much opium and was thrown  on the beach by her companion and left to drown.<\/p>\n<p>The public prosecutor promptly haled Muto into court under an old  Fascist law against spreading &#8220;false and adulterated news to  perturb the public order.&#8221; Challenged to prove his story, Muto  accepted, declared that the ringleader was the Marchese Ugo Montagna  di San Bartolomeo, one of Rome society&#8217;s brightest luminaries. The  hunting lodge was run by the St. Hubert Club, whose membership list  included the Pope&#8217;s personal physician, high Vatican lay officials, and Piero  Piccioni, jazz-pianist son of Scelba&#8217;s Foreign Minister. Wilma was allegedly seen  in a car like young Piccioni&#8217;s black Alfa Romeo just before her death.  His chief informants, said Muto, were two girls who had participated in  the dope parties.<\/p>\n<p>Enter La Caglio. One of the girls was pretty, well-groomed Anna Maria  Moneta Caglio. She took the stand to back up Muto&#8217;s charges, but her  words painted a picture of favoritism and official corruption with  ramifications reaching far beyond the death of Wilma Montesi.<\/p>\n<p>Anna Maria Caglio is an aristocrat, the kind of girl whom Via V\u00e9neto  doormen automatically salute. Daughter of a well-to-do Milan attorney,  she was educated in prim Swiss schools, went to Rome when she was 20,  hoping to break into the theater or the movies. She had little success,  but she became a part of the highest-living, fastest-traveling Roman  set. The most dashing of them all was the Marchese Ugo Montagna. Soon Anna  Maria was his acknowledged mistress, accepting an $800-a-month  allowance and living with him openly. But last summer Ugo threw her  over. La Caglio began to go to church, then retired to a Florence  convent. Later, urged by her conscience and her confessor, she decided  to tell all.<\/p>\n<p>First Suspicion. In a cool, well-modulated voice, she explained that two  days before Wilma&#8217;s death, Ugo ordered her to go back to Milan.  &#8220;When I asked him why, he said that he had a hunting date in  Capocotto with Piero Piccioni.&#8221; Three days later she returned to  Rome, and she and Ugo drove down to the hunting lodge. There the  gamekeeper&#8217;s wife remarked that she had seen Wilma&#8217;s body and was  surprised that it was not swollen or battered. Anna Maria Caglio felt a  sudden suspicion. She thought back to a time three months earlier when  she had followed Ugo and another woman in a car. From the news pictures  she was now sure that the woman had been Wilma Montesi.<\/p>\n<p>Her suspicion grew. When she mentioned Wilma&#8217;s death, &#8220;Ugo became  simply furious and told me I knew too much, and I had better go away.&#8221;  Later, young Piccioni telephoned Ugo during dinner. &#8220;Montagna told me  he had to go to the chief of police to hush up the affair, since they  were trying to link Piero Piccioni with the death of Wilma Montesi. Ugo  drove me to the police headquarters [where Tommaso Pavone, chief of the  national police, had his office], and a few minutes later Piccioni  arrived. They finally went inside and stayed more than an hour.&#8221; On  their return, said La Caglio, Piccioni &#8220;seemed ruffled,&#8221; but Montagna  told him, &#8220;Now everything&#8217;s fixed up.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>In her six hours on the stand, La Caglio told of once going to  Piccioni&#8217;s house with Montagna, who left several packages. &#8220;Montagna  said it was money.&#8221; She also declared that Montagna had procured an  apartment for Chief of Police Pavone.<\/p>\n<p>Twice after their breakup, she suspected Ugo of plotting to kill her.  Worried, she went to Rome&#8217;s district attorney, Dr. Angelo Sigurani. She  told him all she knew. She told him that she suspected Ugo Montagna of  running a narcotics ring, of his frequent trips to visit the commanders  of such ports as Genoa and Naples. Said La Caglio: &#8220;Sigurani listened  very carefully, patted me on the shoulder and advised me to keep out of  these things, and the sooner the better.&#8221; Two weeks ago Dr. Sigurani  tried to get the case dropped because investigation showed &#8220;the  complete absence of a basis for any new charges.&#8221; La Caglio wrote  anxiously to the Pope, warning him that there were people around him  that might do him harm. Then somehow the carabini\u00e8ri, who are separate  from the police and sometimes their rivals, got wind of Anna Maria&#8217;s  worries. On the order of the then Acting Premier, Amintore Fanfani,  Anna Maria returned to Rome, told her story to the carabini\u00e8ri, and  they began an investigation of Ugo Montagna.<\/p>\n<p>Enter the Carabini\u00e8ri. Up to then, the charges had been the word of Anna  Maria Caglio, a woman scorned, against that of the wealthy Marchese  Montagna. But now the court demanded the carabini\u00e8ri report. It was a  bombshell.<\/p>\n<p>Ugo Montagna, it reported, was the son of poor Sicilian parents, spent  the &#8217;30s shuttling between Rome and Sicily and being charged with  various offenses ranging from passing bad checks to printing cards  identifying himself falsely as a lawyer or accountant. He always got  off without a day in jail. By 1940 he had settled in Rome with the  means and habits of a multimillionaire. During Mussolini days he had a  house &#8220;where he frequently invited women of doubtful morality, with the  apparent aim of satisfying the libidinous desires of many high-ranking  personalities.&#8221; With the German occupation, his guests were Nazi  officials. Without embarrassment he switched to British and U.S.  officers after the liberation. He was also, said the report, a  black-marketeer, a spy for the Nazis and &#8220;a notorious agent&#8221; for OVRA  (Fascist Italy&#8217;s Gestapo).<\/p>\n<p>For all his wealth, he paid taxes on a declared income of only about  $1,000 a year, little more than he was said to have given La Caglio  each month. One of Montagna&#8217;s partners in business, said the report,  was the son of Giuseppe Spataro, vice president of the Christian  Democratic Party. The report also confirmed that Piccioni&#8217;s son was a  close friend of Montagna, as were the Vatican physician and other lay  Vatican and government officials.<\/p>\n<p>Such was the man who moved in Rome&#8217;s most select circles, who addressed  the national chief of police Tommaso Pavone with the intimate &#8220;tu.&#8221;  Many of those who originally doubted La Caglio&#8217;s story changed their  minds. The Communists promptly trumpeted the fact that Scelba and  Montagna had both been witnesses at the wedding of Spataro&#8217;s son two  years ago, pointed out that Scelba himself had appointed Pavone chief  of police.<\/p>\n<p>Symbol of Sickness. Almost forgotten were Editor Muto and Wilma Montesi.  The picture that all fixed on with fascinated horror was of Ugo  Montagna and his connections, a symbol of all that was sick about  postwar Italy.<\/p>\n<p>The Montesi affair was Premier Scelba&#8217;s problem, and he faced up to it.  The day after his confirmation he summoned Police Chief Pavone for a  long night session, told him grimly that the government of Italy, and  not the Communists, was going to break the Montesi case wide open. It  did not matter who was hurt. Next morn ing Pavone resigned. Foreign  Minister Pic cioni sent his resignation to Scelba, and it seemed likely  that Scelba would accept it. Scelba appointed Minister Without  Portfolio Raffaele de Caro, a Liberal, to make a full investigation,  ordered Montagna&#8217;s passport lifted, and an investi gation of  Montagna&#8217;s income-tax returns. Montagna, silent up till then, threatened  to start talking. &#8220;I may cause the end of the world,&#8221; he pouted.<\/p>\n<p>More revelations and embarrassments were almost certain to come. But  before it ended, the scandal might turn out to be a boon and a tonic  for sorely beset Italy. As they went about their beats this week, the carabini\u00e8ri  were applauded in the streets by Italians who appreciated that they had walked  where other police feared to tread. &#8220;I promise to do all in my power,&#8221; vowed  Premier Scelba, &#8220;to clear away this shady, suspicious atmosphere that  is hanging over us.&#8221; Nothing could better help democracy in Italy pass  from sickness into health.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I mentioned Alida Valli&#8217;s career being ruined by scandal in my review of Senso earlier.\u00a0 Well, it also involved (more closely) the composer Piero&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[324],"tags":[664,666],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1520"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1520"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1520\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1538,"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1520\/revisions\/1538"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1520"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1520"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.thewildeye.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1520"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}