A truck and
two motorcycles
crossed paths on the corner of Moreno and Independencia, in Mar del Plata, after four in the morning on Monday.
The motorcycles began to
throw cuts, to make noise uncontrollably and on purpose
.
The front passenger of a Toyota Hilux shouted a short and harmless phrase towards the motorcycles that culminated in a four-block chase, a shot and a death: “Well there, king.”
Mauricio Alejandro Grasso
was from Moreno, he was 40 years old and had two children, one thirteen and the other four.
On Friday he had traveled with two friends from Moreno to Mar del Plata to spend the weekend.
On Sunday night, he had a barbecue with two friends from Mar del Plata and his two friends.
They decided to have dinner at one of their friends' house, since they wanted a quiet evening;
the noise was for later.
After the barbecue, the group of friends decided to go have a drink at a pub and then go to the “Momentos” bowling alley, in the center of Mar del Plata, a few blocks from the casino.
They were there until four o'clock, and when they left, they headed west in one of them's Hilux along Bolívar.
Seven blocks later, on Bolívar and Avenida Independencia, two motorcycles surrounded the truck and began
whellieing
and “throwing cuts,” as it is known in street slang for making undercuts and causing loud explosions with the exhaust pipe.
“Well there, king,” shouted one of the friends, the one who was a companion in the front of the truck, towards the bikers.
With that phrase, the certainties ended;
all except one: that four blocks later, Mauricio died as a result of
a gunshot that hit his head
after passing through the rear window of the truck.
Maru, the friend who accompanied Mauricio in the early hours of Monday, prefers not to speak to the media, but she did tell her friend's family the following: they, in the truck, felt afraid due to the presence and stridency of the bikers. that surrounded them;
and it was for that reason that the front passenger of the HIlux said, to try to be on good terms with those who were on the motorcycle, the phrase that resonates around the case today.
“Well there, king.”
She also said that the front passenger was still scared after saying the phrase and that Mauricio, who was in the back of the truck with her, tried to calm him down.
The truck crossed Independencia Avenue, on Bolívar, and Maru looked back through the rear window to see if the motorcyclists were still behind them: she not only saw that they were, but also that one of them was pulling out a gun.
—Drop down, Mauri.
They have a gun.
Please bend over,” said Maru, Mauricio's friend.
—It's okay, fat girl.
“Calm down,” Mauricio responded.
Immediately afterwards, Mauricio's friend said that she crouched down to take refuge in the back seat of the truck.
A few seconds later, she heard two gunshots, and when he stood up, she saw her friend covered in blood: a shot to the head.
The truck stopped instantly at 20 de Septiembre and Bolívar, after four blocks of pursuit.
The motorcycle continued its journey.
When the first ambulance arrived, there was nothing that could be done: Mauricio was already dead.
Mauricio Grasso was 40 years old and the father of two children.
They murdered him in Mar del Plata for nothing.
What is known, so far, about the two motorcycles?
Bit.
Some eyewitnesses, people who were walking in the area at that time, maintain that they were two couples;
others, that only one was transporting a couple, and that there was only a man on the other motorcycle.
Prosecutor María Florencia Salas, from UFI No. 1 of Mar del Plata, is the one who investigates the case.
So far, she has only been able to use security cameras to shed just a little bit of clarity about the murder of Mauricio Grosso.
Just a little clarity, since there are two issues to assess regarding this evidence: the identity of the attackers cannot be known by examining the
images from private security cameras
that are available until now;
and we are only trying to specify, therefore, the direction that the motorcycles followed after murdering Mauricio.
At the moment, all they know is that they headed down Bolívar in the direction of Jara Avenue, heading west.
The memory of Mauricio's brother
Martín Grosso is Mauricio's older brother, the only two boys of the eight siblings, all raised in the Lomas de Casasco neighborhood, in Moreno, west of the Conurbano.
Even though all of his brothers left the neighborhood, Mauricio stayed living there, partly to accompany his father.
"What can I say?
I'm devastated, without energy.
Mauri is a person loved by everyone who knows him, with a heart that does not fit in his chest,”
Mauricio's brother tells
Clarín .
Talk about him in the present tense.
“
Father of two beautiful children, a worker and entrepreneur to the max.
He is one of those people who stops what they are doing to help you,” he adds.
Mauricio had turned 40 less than a month ago.
He was the widower of the mother of the first of her children, 13, and was separated from the mother of the second, 4. However, he maintained a cordial relationship with the latter.
Martín says that his brother earned his income in several ways: he did repairs and remodeling, he had a hardware store and, together with a partner, he had a country house that he rented.
He also says, because it was one of the last conversations with him, that Mauricio was worried because on Monday he would be late to clean the fifth house, which would be rented in a few days.
“They were going to spend the weekend in Mar del Plata, to rest and have fun.
They left two children without their father.
They killed him for nothing!
”says Martin.
He adds that, as police sources confirmed to the family,
there was no prior discussion between his brother and his friends and the motorcycle drivers
, nor any attempted robbery.
They killed Mauricio for nothing.
The mayor of General Pueyrredón, Guillermo Montenegro, contacted Mauricio's family and offered to pay for his burial.
Prosecutor Salas contacted the family, offering them a meeting to tell them about the investigation.
“I didn't even ask nor did I want to ask what happened to those on the motorcycle, those sons of bitches.
“No matter what happens, nothing is going to change, nothing is going to give me back my brother,” concluded Martín Grasso.
Clarín Master's Degree / University of San Andrés
MG