Lisa, irritated, stop wasting time.
‘I know all that.’
‘I became obsessed with the sight of the dead and wounded. I was convinced that my brother and his friends had planted the bomb. That summer I left my family and Brescia for good, without saying anything — the act of a coward. I went to Milan to study. As soon as I got there, I joined Lotta Continua, which dissolved itself shortly afterwards. I felt as though I was losing my family a second time. I was very young, with no political training, and I did a lot of stupid things. I looted shops, attacked police stations, perhaps worse, and then I ended up here…’
‘What about Daniele Bonamico?’
‘I never saw him again. And I’ve never resumed any contact with any member of my family. I was very fond of my two sisters, and really missed them. That’s the way things are where I come from. If you stray, you’re dead to your family. I found out later from a classmate I met up with in Milan that Daniele had kept in touch with Andrea for a while, and then he and my brother had a falling out, apparently a violent one. I don’t know why. Daniele reportedly had to leave Brescia. Then he changed his name. When my friend ran into him in Milan, he was called Luciani, and he pretended not to recognise him. I discovered all that some time ago, by chance, and I didn’t think anything of it until I saw Daniele Luciani’s name in the papers.’
‘So, in your view, he could be playing the agent provocateur?’
‘I didn’t say that, and I have no idea. I’ve told you what I know for certain. And what I’ve heard trusted friends say. No more.’
‘Let’s suppose that this Daniele is working with the cops. If Filippo has a genuine alibi for the time of the bank robbery, people will say that the cops mistook a novel for real life and they’ll look ridiculous.’
‘But they know he hasn’t got an alibi.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You said so yourself at the Sunday meeting just after the book came out, over a month ago, don’t you remember? What do you imagine? That everything said in those meetings remains confidential?’
Lisa sinks deeper into her chair, hands pressed together, her face burning, and says very quietly: ‘It’s true. You’re right.’
After a long silence: ‘Do you have any proof of what you’re saying?’
‘No. I’ve told you what I know, and I don’t intend to start again. I came to see you because I admire your courage and your obstinacy. You never give up. There’s something classy about that. I’m different. I’ve found a real job I like at last, in Brittany. I’m going to move there, and it’s goodbye to Italy and the Italians. I don’t want to be accountable to anyone, do you understand? I just want to forget. It’s been nothing but calamity. As for the proof, you’ll have to sort that out yourself.’
It is long past midnight, Lisa and Roberto are still at their usual table in their favourite Chinese restaurant on the corner of the Rue de Belleville. Even at this late hour, the service is discreet and fast.
‘There, Roberto. I’ve told you everything. What do you think?’
‘Pier-Luigi may be genuine, but he might also be working for the Italian secret service. His departure for a job in Brittany, right after telling you this story … in either case, it means that you’re spot on and that Carlo didn’t die in a simple bank robbery.’
‘Now what?’
‘Do you want to drop it?’
‘No. Especially not now that I finally have something resembling a lead.’
‘Well that sounds obvious. You’ll have to dig deeper, until you find something that either confirms or demolishes Pier-Luigi’s story. You’re our expert in this sort of work, and of course, I’m here if you need a hand with anything specific. Do you know Pier-Luigi’s surname?’
‘Of course. Tomasino. I didn’t need to ask him.’
‘Have you memorised the list of all the refugees?’
‘More or less.’
‘I think you should start with his family. It shouldn’t be too hard to find information about a prominent Brescia banking family, if they do exist.’
‘Supposing I manage to confirm Pier-Luigi’s story?’
‘If the cops’ surprise witness turns out to be a highly dubious character who was in jail with Carlo and then subsequently changed his name, you’ve won — the entire hold-up business stinks.’
‘So what do we do with that information?’
‘We talk to our lawyers first. They’ve asked us to be cautious and to go through them. The League of Human Rights, the journalists we know, and perhaps the publisher too. We go public, making as much noise as possible. Filippo is now famous enough for the story to make the news. But you have to tell him all this now, discuss it with him, tell him what we know, what we’re looking for, and try to get him to agree on the way to conduct this whole thing.’
‘I really have no wish to see him. I loathe the guy and I don’t understand him. He writes a novel, as of course he’s entitled to. What’s more, it’s a bestseller. Why doesn’t he state, once and for all, that he made up the whole story based on a newspaper article and that he has nothing to do with Carlo?’
‘Because he does have something to do with Carlo, whether you like it or not. They were cellmates, and clearly, from what I’ve heard and read, there was a strong bond between them that has nothing to do with politics, and they escaped together. We don’t know what happened afterwards. He gives one version of events, which isn’t the same as yours. The relationship between reality and fiction is always very complex. But one thing is certain: he shared a cell with Carlo for six months. What happened afterwards, what he felt, what he made up, it’s impossible to know. Thousands of people are moved by his story — he himself has ended up believing it. And he’s stuck. Not to mention that it might be true … I sometimes think that he feels guilty towards Carlo, perhaps because he helped him escape, and it ended in tragedy.’
Lisa lets this sink in. She recalls very clearly what she said to Filippo, the one time she met him, a lost kid: You’re to blame for that assassination. Devastating. No question of sharing this memory with Roberto. She smiles at him and reaches across the table to brush his cheek with her hand.
‘I’ve never understood a thing about men. Too unpredictable and too irrational for me…’
‘You’re so stubborn. It’s all very well changing the subject, but you’re going to have to cooperate with Filippo.’
28 June
Things are slow at the occupational health centre as June draws to a close. Cristina, one of the two doctors, has already gone on holiday and appointments are few and far between. Lisa takes advantage of the lull to bring her address book into the office — the precious address book in which she keeps every contact in media and cultural circles that she’s gathered over the years and scrupulously kept up to date. Names of all those who have severed communications are crossed out, others are annotated with details of their habits, tastes, weaknesses, favours granted or, more rarely, sought. It is her secret weapon, which she has never shown anyone, not even Roberto. Perhaps a feeling of shame at keeping tabs on her contacts. Armed with her little book she sets out with a sense of excitement, to find contacts who might be able to talk to her about Daniele Bonamico/Luciani. At least when she has a clear and precise task to occupy her, she forgets the heartache of exile, and feels alive, energetic.