Branko and I never had sex. We never had anything between us but her.
A few months later, he broke up with her. He couldn't take her accusing him of stuff all the time.
She went nuts when he did that. I just laughed — like, you deserve it, bitch — but we still hooked up sometimes.
But who knew she was that nuts? I never imagined how far she would go to get back at him.
An excerpt from the unpublished memoir of Branko P. about his involvement with the Strangers and the Meredith Kercher murder trial.
Sitting in the emergency room in Italy was strange. We couldn't really understand much of what they were saying. I guess Juan could understand more than me, given that he's Latino. Some of the words make sense. But still I don't think he gets much. It goes by so fast.
The driver of the other taxi, a thin guy in his twenties, sat across from us, staring at the floor. Juan and I weren't hurt, just a few bruises. Both cars were mangled. We wanted to leave, but were told we had to stay for X-rays. Our driver was in examination. Juan was done. I was next. Juan nursed some coffee. I wanted to sleep. The hospital took my want to sleep as a sign that I might be hurt.
I thought, We should be tired. It's two in the morning. It's been three hours since the accident. The nurse warned me not to sleep. The doctor told Juan the same thing.
We were wet and cold. That's why we had blankets over us. It was nice of them to give us covers. I figured it meant we weren't going to be arrested.
We landed from LA via Madrid yesterday. Took a bus into Rome proper to get something to eat. That was all great. Found a cheap local place that served great pasta and mediocre wine. We didn't drink, so that part wasn't a problem. Walked around a little to see the sights. As it got later, we thought it best to just catch a cab to the train station. We wanted to catch the evening train to Perugia.
We had a little trouble with the cab driver. He didn't work his English much and we didn't know Italian. I said to Juan I thought he was high or something. And Juan said he thought so, too. I wondered if it wasn't me or us jetlagged — maybe our judgment was off. He said no, that wasn't it, this guy was fucked up.
That's when it hit me, and I said it to Juan, "This guy is going to get us killed." We have no control over that, Branko, it's in the hands of God. Juan said it just like that. I looked at him like, what is he talking about, and told him something about our having a choice and we can get out of the taxi right now. Nothing's stopping us.
The guy looked to be nodding at the wheel. We tried to switch cabs, but the other cabbies in the line refused to take us. He was next in line. That's how it worked. We got back in. So much for our having a choice. We pulled a map out and pointed to the train station.