THIS HAS been a week when the dirtiest five-letter word in the Italian language has once again raised its ugly head: Mafia.
Much media attention has understandably been focused on the arrest in Sicily last Friday of Pietro "U Sigurinu" Aglieri, one of Italy's most wanted godfathers. He is believed to be responsible for some of Italy's infamous Mafia killings, including that in March 1992 of Salvo Lima, the Euro MP and long-time political ally of seven-times prime minister Giulio Andreotti.
Not for the first time, the arrest of a wanted godfather was not without a cinematic quality.
Aglieri (38) had been on the run since 1989, and had recently been patiently tailed for months with the Palermo "Flying Squad" finally tracking him down to a converted farm building near Bagheria, east of Palermo.
Using long-range telescopic lenses, police were sure that they had found not only Aglieri but also two of his accomplices, also on the wanted list.
To make doubly certain, however, they took some long-range pictures and then sent them north to the high security prison of Rebibbia near Rome where another Mafia godfather, Giovanni Brusca, himself arrested last year, confirmed the identification.
When the police force finally burst in upon Aglieri and friends at around 10 a.m. last Friday, they came across some unexpected sights.
The Mafia mobster had created a little altar for hiniself within the farmhouse, complete with a picture of the Virgin Mary, candles, catechism, a Bible and a bench for prayer. Aglieri also had some books with him in his temporary hideaway including a work by the philosopher Kierkegaard and Introduction to Philosophical Thought by Edith Stein.
All this could lead one to imagine that Pietro Aglieri was a normal human, probably of above average intelligence. He may well be, but he is also accused of having been a cold-blooded murderer.
For example, Palermo investigators are convinced that he was the man who early one hot Sicilian summer morning 10 years ago ran the doorbell on the apartment of Giovanni Bontate, mafioso and brother of Palermitan godfather Stefano Bontate, who had been killed in internal Mafia warfare in 1981.
Bontate had been living in fear. He knew his days were numbered. He lived under tight security, opening the door only to trusted friends. The man who came to the door that morning 10 years ago was invited in and offered coffee. He sat down at the kitchen table with the Bontates. When police found the dead bodies of Giovanni Bontate and his wife, three cups of coffee on the breakfast table were still warm.
Police believe that Aglieri was the man capable of such cold-blooded betrayal and murder.
In the wake of the arrest of a mafioso such as Aglieri, there is always a strong media temptation to describe the event as a "significant blow" against the Mafia, with the implication being that this time, the Mafia may not recover from the blow. Mafia investigators and Sicilian commentators know better.
They know that no matter how many godfathers they arrest, the hydra monster that is the Mafia will sprout forth a new "Boss of Bosses". The arrests of such as Toto Riina in 1993, his right hand man Leoluca Bagarella in 1995 and Giovanni Brusca last year have not prevented the Mafia from continuing to grow.
Earlier this year, Confcommercio, the confederation of small business, calculated that the Mafia today accounts for a turnover of $2.5 billion (£1.66 billion), that 20-25 per cent of movements of money in Italian banks have "obscure origins" and that three out of 10 Italian companies are controlled, directly or indirectly, by organised crime.
Pietro Aglieri's arrest also prompted thoughts about those who have chosen to fight the Mafia and paid a heavy price. Innocenza Losicco, for example, was a small Palermo builder who made the mistake of applying for and winning work contracts without the Mafia's permission. Eventually, the "men of honour" came looking not just for protection money but nearly all his profits.
After years of suffering such mafioso extortion, Mr Losicco went to the Palermo police. By way of response, he was put on a state protection scheme and told that he and his family had to leave Palermo, where their safety could not be guaranteed. He and his family now lead what he calls a "squalid" life, far from Sicily and with little money.
One morning in September 1990, Naples-based Piero Nava, a man with his own security locks business, was driving along a main road between Agrigento and Canicatti in Sicily when he saw a car forced off the road. He then saw the car's driver jump out and run down the embankment chased by two men with a gun. Piero Nava did not know it then but the man running literally for his life was Judge Rosario Livatino, about to be killed by the Mafia.
Piero Nava did his civic duty and came forth with his eyewitness evidence, which proved vital in the trial and sentencing of Judge Livatino's killers.
Today, however, Piero Nava lives far from Italy in a cold Northern climate, in fear of his life and unsure if he will ever be able to return to his native land. Italy's fight against the Mafia still has a long way to go.