It was the voice of Master Ninuzzo, whom Simonini was quite sure he had left with twenty inches of dagger in his stomach, at the powder magazine in Bagheria.
«I’m alive, you see, thanks to a merciful soul who was passing in those parts just after you and came to my rescue. I spent three months between life and death. There’s a scar on my stomach that goes from one hip to the other…But as soon as I got up from my bed I began my search, looking for anyone who’d seen a priest of such and such an appearance. It turned out that someone had seen him at a café in Palermo talking to Notaio Musumeci and thought he looked very much like one of Garibaldi’s men from Piedmont who was a friend of Colonel Nievo. Then I heard that Nievo had been lost at sea, as if his ship had disappeared into thin air, and I knew all too well how and why it had disappeared, and who’d done it.
From there it was easy to trace him to the army of Piedmont, and then to Turin, and I spent a bitterly cold year in that city questioning everyone. Finally I found out that this Garibaldino’s name was Simonini, who ran a notary’s office. But he’d sold it, letting slip to the purchaser that he was leaving for Paris. I still had no money, and somehow—don’t ask me how I did it—I got to Paris, except that I had no idea the city was so big. I was wandering about for a long time before I tracked you down. And I made my living on streets like these, holding a knife to the throat of any well-dressed gentleman who’d taken a wrong turn—one a day was enough to keep me alive. I always wandered these parts, imagining that someone like you would go to the tapis-francs, as they call them here, rather than to decent places. You should have grown a fine black beard if you didn’t want to be recognized so easily.»
It was at that time that Simonini had adopted his bearded bourgeois appearance, though he had to admit he had done far too little to cover his tracks.
«But I’m not here to tell you my whole history,» Ninuzzo concluded. «All I want is to slash your stomach the same way you did mine. But I’ll do it properly this time. No one passes here at night—just like that powder magazine at Bagheria.»
The moon had risen, and Simonini could now see Ninuzzo’s bulldog nose and evil, glistening eyes.
«Ninuzzo,» he had the presence of mind to say, «what you don’t know is that I did what I did in obedience to orders—orders from very high up, and from an authority so sacred that I had to carry them out without any care for my own personal feelings. And it is in obedience to those same orders that I am here, to prepare other actions in support of throne and altar.»
Simonini was panting breathlessly as he spoke, but saw that the point of the knife was very gradually moving away from his face. «You have dedicated your life to your king,» he continued, «and you must understand that there are missions—sacred missions, let me say—when it is justifiable to carry out an act that could never otherwise be pardoned. You understand?»
Master Ninuzzo did not understand, but indicated that vengeance was no longer his only purpose. «My stomach’s been empty for too long, and seeing you dead isn’t enough. I’m fed up living in the dark. Since I caught up with you I’ve seen you going into gentlemen’s restaurants. Shall we say I’ll let you live in exchange for a sum of money each month, enough for me to eat and sleep like you, and better than you.»
«Master Ninuzzo, I promise you more than a small sum each month. I’m preparing an attack on the French emperor—and remember, your king lost his throne because of Napoleon’s secret help to Garibaldi. You know a great deal about gunpowder. You should meet the group of valiant men who are working together in rue de la Huchette to prepare what can truly be called an infernal machine. If you join up with them, you’ll not only take part in an act that will go down in history, while also proving your extraordinary ability as a gunpowder expert, but—remembering that this attack is being supported by people at the highest level—you’ll have your share of a reward that will make you rich for the rest of your days.»
The mention of gunpowder was enough to calm the rage that had festered in Ninuzzo since that night at Bagheria, and Simonini realized he had him in the palm of his hand when he asked, «So, what do I have to do?»
«It’s simple. In two days’ time, at around six o’clock, go to this address, knock, enter the warehouse and say that Lacroix sent you. Our friends will be expecting you. But you must wear a carnation in the buttonhole of your jacket so they’ll recognize you. I will arrive around seven—with money.»
«I’ll be there,» said Ninuzzo. «But remember—if it’s a trick, I know where you live.»
The next morning, Simonini returned to Gaviali and warned him that time was growing short. They should all be there at six the following afternoon. First a Sicilian explosives expert would arrive, sent by Simonini to check on their progress. He would appear shortly afterward, then Monsieur Lacroix himself, to give all necessary guarantees.
Then he went to Lagrange and told him he had information about a conspiracy to kill the emperor. He knew that the plotters would be meeting at six o’clock the following day in rue de la Huchette to hand over the explosives to the people they were working for.
«But beware,» Simonini said. «You once told me that out of every ten members of a secret society, three of them are spies working for us, six are fools and one is dangerous. Well, you’ll find only one spy there, which is me. Eight of them are fools, and the one who’s really dangerous will be wearing a carnation. And since he’s also a danger to me, I’d like a small disturbance to break out, and this fellow not to be arrested but killed on the spot. Believe me, it is a way of making sure this business causes as little fuss as possible. Heaven help us if he starts talking, even to one of your people.»
«I accept what you say, Simonini,» said Lagrange. «The man will be eliminated.»
Ninuzzo arrived in rue de la Huchette at six o’clock wearing a fresh carnation. Gaviali and the others proudly showed him their bombs, and Simonini arrived half an hour later announcing the arrival of Lacroix. At six forty-five the police burst in. Simonini shouted that they’d been betrayed and pointed a pistol at the police, but he fired in the air. The police responded by shooting Ninuzzo in the chest. And since everything had to be done properly, they also killed another conspirator. Ninuzzo was rolling on the ground, uttering colorful Sicilian blasphemies, and Simonini, pretending once more to shoot at the police, delivered the coup de grâce.
Lagrange and his men had caught Gaviali and the others red-handed, with the prototypes of half-constructed bombs and a pile of handbills explaining why they were making them. During a heated interrogation, Gaviali and his companions gave the name of the mysterious Lacroix who had betrayed them—or so they thought. One more reason why Lagrange decided to get rid of him. The police report suggested he’d been involved in arresting the conspirators and had been killed by a shot fired by one of the villains. An honorable commendation.
As for the conspirators, it seemed pointless to attract publicity with a trial. There were repeated rumors of attacks on the emperor at that time, as Lagrange explained to Simonini, and it was thought that many of these stories were not genuine but had been cunningly circulated by republican agents to encourage fanatics to follow suit. It was useless to spread the idea that attacks on the life of Napoleon III had become a popular sport. The conspirators were therefore shipped off to Cayenne, where they would die of malarial fever.
Saving the life of the emperor had been most profitable. While the Joly assignment was worth 10,000 francs, discovering the conspiracy brought Simonini another 30,000. Rental of the warehouse and purchase of the bomb-making materials had cost him 5,000 francs, leaving him a clear 35,000—more than a tenth of that 300,000-franc capital he was hoping for.
Though
