Romanian Police in action!

SO.. imagine this:
You're 55ish, your husband is 60ish. You live in a small town in central Transylvania (Romania), where nothing ever really happens, mainly because half of the population has fled to work in Italy. Your main pass-time is gardening and watching soap-operas on TV. Your daughter has emigrated to Canada, your son joined the Italy-bound self-exiled crowd. Your phone only rings because one of the following 4 people are calling you: your sister from across the street, your niece from across the street, your estranged ex-coworker and friend (once a month), and your daughter (every other week).
You can't imagine that? OH, darn! Well, I'm telling ya the story nevertheless!

So you noticed how your son is not on the list of 4 people who call you, right? Good, I like to think my readers are sharp! Marius doesn't call. He's just like that, he suffers of phonephobia. So my parents have to call him once in a while, to see what the weather is like in freaking SanRemo where he is right now (life is unfair, I know, I got to wear my freaking leather jacket in June!). The fact is, you just got off the phone with your son this morning - he was working away, planning to come back home soon for a short visit. The call made your heart warm up a little and your worries for your little babies shrunk a bit, moving somewhere to the background of your troubled, always-concerned soul. You go on with your day, taking care of your small garden, wondering who this 62 year old man resting in the shade is (no, really, my parents are still crazy about each other). But then, as you get back home in the evening, something weird happens: the phone rings, and it's not your sister or any of the people listed above. It's your brother, whom, since he joined the Liberals, you only get to see at election campaign parties. You would try to tell yourself it's just a thank you call for all your support, but his voice is rather shaky. He's calling because he got a call from your husband's sister (who lives in a bigger city), who in turn got a call from the police from yet another city. The police had called to inform my aunt (who shares our family name), that Lucian Serb had a fatal car accident and they need someone to go over and identify him. My brother's middle name is Lucian.
Ok, stop pretending you're my mom, cause you can't. My mom totally lost it. I don't know how she even managed to stay conscious, and tell my dad about the chain of calls. My dad is the rational one - he remembered they just spoke with my brother in the morning, and he was in Italy, for God's sake! But, as my brother takes unexpected decisions, there was a possibility for him to have left Italy in the morning, and have made it to that city with the car accident... My dad has a heart condition, mind you, he suffered 2 heart attacks three years ago. (I just want to go slap that policeman who called my aunt!) Anyhow, my dad keeps his cool, dials my brother's Italy cell number. My brother picks up. Yes, he's still in Italy. Mom, take a deep breath, mom! No, he's not planning to come home for at least another week, he told you that this morning, dad! "Gee, can I get back to work now? What? Mom's crying? For goodness sake! That guy's name was Lucian, my name is Marius Lucian, gee.. relax! ok, I'll call you tomorrow!" That's my brother for ya, nothing can move him. :)
My mom debated for an entire day whether or not to tell me about this, as she thought she'd get me worried. Honestly, I did not. I knew nothing had happened when she started the story. But now that I think about how they had to deal with it, I think they should sue the freaking Romanian Police. And so should all the other people who share our last name and got a call from the police asking them to go identify a potential member of their family! Gee! Does this happen anywhere else but Romania!???!?