The One-Armed Man

Recall my friend who had that little scare from the police while working one evening at the pub? All of that has seemingly calmed down but he received another reminder of his status about three weeks ago. At about five o'clock, he heard a ring from the main doors. He wasn't expecting anyone over and people don't generally just drop by. He answered but there was no one there. He thought it was probably just a person ringing a lot of apartments so they could come in and put advertisements in the mailboxes, it happens often enough. He thought nothing of it but then a minute later someone was ringing the actual doorbell! Odd. He looked through the peephole and said, "Si?" The reply was chilling, "Polizia Municipale". The police were after him! The world was closing in on him. He was trapped like a rat! For a fleeting moment he thought about jumping off the balcony and making a break for it in a fashion even Dr. Richard Kimble would admire. Wisely, he decided against it. Pause for a deep breath. With a pounding heart, he opened the door to greet the police officer. Now face to face, he asked again, "Si?" The police officer asked him if he was "Davide Pagliucci" or something like that, he replied "No." The officer looked him up and down and tried to peer into the apartment. Then the officer asked him if this was the correct number of apartment and correct address and if he knew "Davide" or if he lived in the apartment. Throughout this my friend was worried that he would have to show his passport or identification of sorts but the officer didn't actually ask to see it. "Davide" had obviously given the police a false address for some reason, it just so happened to be his! Of all the addresses in Rome, he gave one that belonged to a guy who had just weeks ago run for his precious life! Then a couple hours later, the pub called my friend and told him that when he arrived at the pub to just have a seat rather than start immediately because the police were there! My friend thinks it is time to go.