Murders, however obnoxious, always attract attention. The most gruesome seem to appeal the most. While bringing us face to face with the worst in us, murders also appear to remind us just how resilient, and sometimes heroic, we are when it comes to living with difficult others.
Murders do not let us forget how low we, as human beings, can stoop, but they also bring out, indirectly, our best social and political qualities.
All of us, given the circumstances, are probably capable of murder. It is perhaps not infrequent that we covertly harbour murderous feelings towards certain people. There may be many reasons for not carrying out such ruminations.
Contrary to common perception, it is practically quite difficult to kill someone. What’s more, today it is very unlikely to get away with murder, especially where the forensic sciences are highly advanced.
All of this was very different in the 18th century. One murder committed in 1738 might fascinate some of us for its intrigue, intricacy and bafflement. The victim was a young Maltese Dominican priest of 34, Vincent Grimani, who was brutally stabbed to death in his own bed within the sanctuary of his conventual cell.
Almost instinctively, one’s curiosity is piqued. Why was he slayed? Who had put him to death? Was the case solved? What became of the murderer?
Vincent Grimani was brutally stabbed to death in his own bed within the sanctuary of his conventual cell
This Grimani wasn’t exactly a nobody. He was the rector of the University of Portus Salutis which the Dominicans had in Valletta since 1729. Though young, and not in possession of a masters yet, his academic prospects seemed very promising. He might have grown up into one of the most illustrious members of the Maltese Dominicans.
His murder cut him short and, alas, consigned him to a forgotten past. Only one fortuitous detail, however, denied that his name went unnoticed forever. It was a folk song (għana) in Maltese composed in the wake of the murder and sung in the streets and taverns of Valletta.
Opportunely, a priest took note of it and wrote it down in his records, thereby preserving it for posterity.
In a book which is soon to be released, Min Qatel il-Patri? (Who Murdered the Friar?), published by Klabb Kotba Maltin, folklorist Marlene Mifsud Chircop and myself conduct a meticulous investigation into the murder of Grimani, its surprisingly complex background and its likely motives.
Fully researched from original manuscripts held in various archives in Malta and abroad, the book also studies the anonymous folk song which drew attention to the murder in the first place, together with other compositions on the same murder written contemporaneously in Italian and Sicilian.
Why a perfect murder? Because the killer who committed the hideous crime might have remained undiscovered forever.
The official launching of the book will be on Friday at 7pm at the convent of the Dominican friars in St. Dominic Street, Valletta.
Carmel Cassar and Bernard Micallef will address the gathering. Folk singer Calcidon Vella will also take part.
The public is encouraged to attend and entrance is free of charge.