As a sometime documentarist, I became involved in this case when it was still in the news.On a rather cold, early summer morning, I decided to travel out to the southeast of Paris to visit him in his solitary cell.Once inside the old brick prison, I was placed in the charge of a tall warden. I followed him as he turned left, then right, then up one set of steps, and then another, until we reached the third floor, an area of cream-white walls and metal grills. When we finally stopped, it was outside a small door in one corner of the building. Over the door, in faded blue paint, was the number 43.The warden pulled opened the door, sending an echo booming through the building, and ushered me in.(10)Inside was a narrow room with a bed fastened to the wall. Sagawa sat on the bed, perched, facing us. There was a window immediately behind him, and the light streaming in threw his face into shadow. However, I could see that he looked at me with some surprise. Slowly a smile spread across his face, and he nodded a slight bow.
đang được dịch, vui lòng đợi..
