The last hours of Mario Biondo, a documentary that will premiere on Netflix on August 3, begins by lying. At least, the trailer that serves as a letter of introduction: Mario’s family, a television cameraman found dead at his home in Madrid in May 2013, never received a call from Emme Team – an office that presents itself as an agency specializing in telematic crimes – to help them find out what happened that morning. It was Santina D’Alessandro, mother of the young Italian, who turned to them.
Desperate for so many years without answers, the Biondos grabbed at any burning nail as long as they knew why their son died, convinced that he was murdered. Ten years later, they have their guesses but are very careful not to make them public. Ten years later, they still trust that the Spanish Justice will open an investigation into a death filed as suicide.
Mario’s family agreed to participate in this new report on the death of their son – they have already participated in others – and they were interviewed in Rome last winter. When they made themselves available to the production company, always under the reliable Netflix seal, they could not even remotely suspect that Guillermo Gómez was behind it all, Raquel Sánchez Silva’s representative for many years and who protected her like a centurion the months after Mario’s death He isolated her from all controversy while the family racked their brains trying to understand why Mario was dead.
Relations between widow and parents soon soured. She sued them for harassment on social media and they accused her of hiding something. When they learned from another of the interviewees, the former Mossos d’Esquadra agent and judicial expert Óscar Tarruella, that the person who was Sánchez Silva’s goalkeeper was behind the report, they felt deeply deceived. Both Tarruella and they sent two burofaxes to Netflix demanding not to appear in this documentary.
In autumn, the Biondos put themselves in the hands of the Barcelona firm Vosseler Abogados to file a complaint on Spanish soil in order to find out what happened to their son at dawn on May 30, 2013, once the investigation in Italy had closed. During all these years, the Palermo Prosecutor kept the file open, carried out two autopsies, received dossiers signed by independent experts and in his conclusions, the magistrate Nicola Aiello was categorical: everything pointed to a homicide although, ten years later, he recognized that it would be more than improbable to find the authors.
