The following day he came to see me, bringing a gadget of terrifying simplicity. How could that tiny jumble of wires and that alarm clock, the size of a parish priest’s turnip, possibly cause an explosion? And yet it does, Gaviali proudly assured me.
Two days later I went to explore the excavations, and with an air of idle curiosity I asked the workmen various questions. I found one point where you could easily climb down from the road to the level immediately below, to the entrance of a tunnel supported by beams. I don’t need to know where the tunnel leads, or even whether it goes anywhere. All I’d have to do is place the bomb at the entrance, and that would be that.
I don’t need to know where the tunnel leads, or even whether it goes anywhere. All I’d have to do is place the bomb at the entrance, and that would be that.
I had to be blunt with Gaviali: «I have great respect for your expertise, but your hands shake and your legs can barely support you. You’d never manage to get down to the tunnel, and who knows what you’d end up doing with those wires you tell me about.»
His eyes became tearful. «It’s true, I’m finished.»
«Who could do the job for you?»
«I don’t know anyone. All my companions, don’t forget, are still in Cayenne. You sent them there. The responsibility for that is yours. You want to explode the bomb? You’ll have to do it yourself.»
«Nonsense, I’m not an expert.»
«You don’t have to be an expert once you’ve been taught by an expert. Just look at these things I’ve put on the table. This is all you need to make a good time bomb. Any kind of alarm clock, like this, provided you understand the mechanism inside that sets the alarm off at the right time. Then a battery that, when activated by the alarm, activates the detonator. I’m old-fashioned, so I would use a Daniell cell. In this type of battery, unlike the voltaic battery, the elements inside are mainly liquid. Half of a small container is filled with copper sulfate and the other half with zinc sulfate. A small copper plate is put into the copper solution and a zinc plate into the zinc. The ends of the two plates form the two poles of the battery. You understand?»
«So far, yes.»
«Good. The only problem is that with a Daniell cell you have to be very careful in moving it, but until it’s connected to the detonator and to the explosive, whatever happens, there’s no problem. When it’s connected up it’ll be on a flat surface, I hope—otherwise the operator’s an idiot. For the detonator, any kind of small charge is sufficient. Finally we come to the charge itself. In the old days, you remember, I used to recommend black gunpowder. But ten years ago they invented ballistite—ten percent camphor and equal parts nitroglycerine and collodion. There was a problem at first with the camphor, which easily evaporates, making the product unstable. But after the Italians began producing it at Avigliana, it seems to be reliable.
Or I could decide to use cordite, invented by the English, where fifty percent of the camphor has been replaced by Vaseline, and for the rest they’ve taken fifty-eight percent nitroglycerine and thirty-seven guncotton, dissolved in acetone, then extruded it so it looks like thick spaghetti. I’ll decide what’s best, but there’s not much difference. So the first thing to do is set the hands of the clock to the correct time, then connect the clock to the battery, and this to the detonator, and the detonator to the charge, then activate the alarm. Remember, never reverse the order of the operations—if you connect first, then activate the alarm, and then turn the hands of the clock…bang! You understand? Then you go home, or to the theater, or to a restaurant—the bomb goes off by itself. Understand, Captain?»
«I understand.»
«I wouldn’t go so far as saying that a child could do it, but one of Garibaldi’s old captains surely can. You have a firm hand and a clear eye. Just carry out those small operations as I’ve told you. All you have to do is follow the right order.»
I agreed. If I succeed, it will knock years off me, and I’ll come back ready to trample underfoot all the Mordechais of this world. And that whore in the Turin ghetto. Gagnu, eh? I’ll take care of you.
I need to get rid of the smell of Diana in heat, which has been following me through the summer nights for a year and a half. I realize the whole purpose of my life has been to bring down that accursed race. Rachkovsky is right: hatred alone warms the heart.
I must complete my task in full regalia. I have put on my dress coat and the beard I wore for evenings at Juliette Adam’s. Almost by chance, I discovered at the bottom of a cupboard a small supply of the Parke & Davis cocaine I had obtained for Doctor Froïde. Who knows how it came to be there? I’ve never tried it before, but if the doctor is right, it ought to give me a boost. I’ve also had three small shots of cognac. And I’m feeling as strong as a lion.
Gaviali wants to come with me, but I’m not going to let him—he’s too slow, he’d get in my way.
I understand perfectly well how it all works. This bomb is going to cause one hell of a stir.
Gaviali’s giving me the final instructions: «Watch out here, watch out there.»
For heaven’s sake, I’m not yet a decrepit old fool.
The End
Useless Learned Explanations
Historical
The only fictitious character in this story is the protagonist, Simone Simonini. His grandfather, Captain Simonini, is not invented, even if he is known to history only as the mysterious writer of a letter to Abbé Barruel.
All the others (except for a few incidental minor characters such as Notaio Rebaudengo and Ninuzzo) actually existed, and said and did what they are described as saying and doing in this novel. That is true not only of those characters who appear under their real names (and, though many might find this improbable, even a character like Léo Taxil actually existed), but also of figures who appear under a fictitious name, where for narrative economy I have made a single (invented) character say and do what was in fact said and done by two (historically real) characters.
But on reflection, even Simone Simonini, although in effect a collage, a character to whom events have been attributed that were actually done by others, did in some sense exist. Indeed, to be frank, he is still among us.
The Story and Plot
The Narrator is aware that, in the fairly chaotic plot sequence of the diaries reproduced here (moving back and forth, using what cineastes call flashbacks), the reader might have difficulty in following the linear progression of events, from Simonini’s birth to the end of his diaries. It is the fatal imbalance between story and plot, or even worse, as the Russian formalists (all Jewish) used to say, between fabula and sjuž. The Narrator, to be honest, has often found it difficult finding his own way around, but feels a competent reader need not become lost in the detail and should enjoy the story just the same. However, for the benefit of the overly meticulous reader, or one who is not so quick on the uptake, here is a table that sets out the relationship between the two levels (common, in truth, to every, what they used to call «well-made,» novel).
CHAPTER PLOT STORY
1. A Passerby on That Gray Morning The Narrator begins to follow Simonini’s diary
2. Who Am I? Diary 24th March 1897
3. Chez Magny Diary 25th March 1897 (description of meals Chez Magny 1885–1886)
4. In My Grandfather’s Day Diary 26th March 1897 1830–1855 Childhood and adolescence in Turin to death of Simonini’s grandfather
5. Simonino the Carbonaro Diary 27th March 1897 1855–1859 Working for Notaio Rebaudengo and first contact with the secret service
6. Serving the Secret Service Diary 28th March 1897 1860 Interview with heads of Piedmont secret service
7. With the Thousand Diary 29th March 1897 1860 On the Emma with Dumas; arrival at Palermo; meeting with Nievo; first return to Turin
8. The Ercole Diary 30th March and 1st April 1897 1861 Disappearance of Nievo; second return to Turin and exile in Paris
9. Paris Diary 2nd April 1897 1861– Early years in Paris
10. Dalla Piccola Perplexed Diary 3rd April 1897
11. Joly Diary 3rd April 1897, night 1865 In prison spying on Joly; trap for the Carbonari
12. A Night in Prague Diary 4th April 1897 1865–1866 First version of the scene in the Prague cemetery; meetings with Brafmann and Gougenot
13. Dalla Piccola Says He Is Not Dalla Piccola Diary 5th April 1897
14. Biarritz Diary 5th April 1897, late morning 1867–1868 Meeting Goedsche in Munich; killing of Dalla Piccola
15. Dalla Piccola Redivivus Diary 6th and 7th April 1897 1869 Lagrange describes Boullan
16. Boullan Diary 8th April 1897 1869 Dalla Piccola meets Boullan
17. The Days of the Commune Diary 9th April 1897 1871 The days of the Commune
18. The Protocols Diary 10th and 11th April 1897 1871–1879 Return of Father Bergamaschi; expansion of the Prague cemetery scene; killing of Joly
19. Osman Bey Diary 11th April 1897, evening 1881 Meeting with Osman Bey
20. Russians? Diary
