Dominique Manotti - Escape

A phone call to Roberto: ‘SOS, I need your company this evening. I can’t be on my own. Haven’t got the strength. And no questions.’

Her voice is uncertain and Roberto recognises the signs. They meet at the Chinese restaurant, which always stays open very late. Lisa swings between exhilaration and despondence, underpinned by profound anguish. She grazes rather than eats and downs large amounts of iced tea. Roberto remains calm and waits for her to speak. It is the only thing to be done, he is used to it. After a very long silence: ‘Roberto, I need you.’

He smiles.

‘Our conversations often begin like this. Can you be more precise?’

‘When I told you about Pier-Luigi, you said you could help. You said, “help with anything specific”. That’s exactly what I need. Help with something specific.’

‘So you haven’t dropped this Pier-Luigi business?’

Lisa smiles.

‘Of course not. Did you really think I’d let it go?’

‘I don’t know. You haven’t mentioned it to me for the last two or three weeks.’

‘I’m missing a central piece of the puzzle. Until I have it, I don’t want to talk to you about it. You’ll say I’m crazy and paranoid.’

‘I’ve never said you’re crazy or paranoid.’

‘No. But you’ve certainly thought it. And I don’t blame you.’

‘So what do you need me to do?’

‘I want to know if Carlo ran into a certain Daniele Bonamico or a Daniele Luciani when he was in prison.’

Surprised, Roberto raises his eyebrows.

‘I don’t know when exactly he changed his name. I didn’t ask Pier-Luigi the right question, and it’s too late now, he didn’t leave me a forwarding address.’

‘It’s impossible to ask the right questions when you don’t know the answers. I didn’t know that Luciani was supposed to have met Carlo.’

A silence. Lisa offers no further details.

‘Right, tell me what you want me to do.’

‘I want you to ask our lawyers to obtain that information. They can easily find out from Carlo’s solicitor in Italy. And they promised to help me.’

‘Why don’t you ask them yourself?’

‘Because I don’t want to have to answer their questions. I can just picture their faces. “And why do you need this information? What are you up to?” I don’t want to say anything until I’ve got all the information I need. It will be easier for you to say nothing because you don’t know anything.’

‘Do you badly need to protect yourself, Lisa?’

‘Yes, you know I do, and I’m relying on you to help me fend off trouble, as usual.’

‘OK. I’ll do it tomorrow. Let’s go back to your place and have a coffee, it’s better than here, and then you can make up a bed for me on the couch — it’s much too late for me to go home.’

‘Thank you.’

25 July (Monday)

Sitting in the big armchair, his back to the window, Roberto sips an iced coffee.

‘There you go. It took a little while, but I finally managed to get the information you want. Daniele Bonamico was in jail at the same time as Carlo in 1986, in the high-security prison. He had the benefit of a reduction in his sentence and was released a month after Carlo’s transfer to the second prison.’

Roberto stops speaking. Lisa is ashen, her features hard, set, she is no longer listening. Exactly the answer I was expecting and I was preparing myself for. Even so, it’s a hell of a shock. Carlo, ten years of underground struggle. As a rule the group’s logistics ran without a hitch, everything except a bolt from the blue. In prison, the love of my life became the friend of a right-wing extremist, a killer, thinking it was OK to associate with him, that he was apolitical and reliable. What ravages prison can wreak. Worse than exile. When he escaped, Carlo was already dead inside. He fell apart in prison, and I knew nothing about it. My love for him, a huge chapter of our lives in shreds. Will I survive? What for?

Roberto is growing impatient.

‘Enough beating about the bush, Lisa. Now you have to tell me everything you know, what it was that made you ask the right question.’

Lisa starts, then picks up the thread.

‘Listen carefully, I’m going to tell you the whole story. Daniele Bonamico is a working-class man from Brescia, on the far right (you’re aware that there is such a thing, aren’t you?), the sort who get used as goons. He’s well in with the Tomasino family, doing dirty deeds with the eldest brother Andrea and involved to some extent in the 1974 massacre — we’ve already talked about that — but he doesn’t know his place and, even though he looks like a low-life thug, he gets one of the Tomasino girls pregnant. He’s run out of Brescia by the family. Then he hangs out with the secret service, lends a hand here and there, and ends up in jail with Carlo, before getting himself transferred. I don’t know whether Bonamico is already receiving orders, or whether he jumps at the opportunity and negotiates afterwards. I’m inclined to think the latter, but it doesn’t matter, the fact is that he becomes close to Carlo. You can imagine how he embroiders the tragic story of his love affair, thwarted by the rich bastards, omitting his political activities, of course. You know Carlo as well as I do. A sentimental romantic and an incorrigible womaniser…’

‘And prison is unlikely to have helped, seven years of going without…’

‘Once he’s understood what makes Carlo tick, Daniele’s sitting pretty. He tells Carlo he has a plan for getting his own back on the Tomasinos, obtaining some money and eloping with his beloved. A robbery on one of their old banks, he knows the layout of the premises well from having more or less worked there, and he says he’s got contacts inside the bank, people who are prepared to help him, so there’s absolutely no risk. It’ll go like clockwork, and win them a packet of money to boot. It is even possible that he passed off the girl who was with them as the Tomasino girl. She was in Zuliani’s first version of the breakout, the only one I accept as true. All he needs is an accomplice. Carlo’s up for it. Just think: an operation to recover loot from the rich to avenge an impoverished lover, involving no violence and no risks, offering him the chance of a new life … Oh, and the former Tomasino bank is located at number 10, Via Del Battifolle in Milan.’

Roberto winces.

‘Are you making this up?’

‘No, I’m not making it up. The bank is a former Tomasino establishment, and could be, if I’ve understood correctly, the Milan head office. To continue. Carlo begins to dream. Then he’s transferred, because there’s no escape from high-security jails, and Daniele is released a little later. The Red Brigades’ open letter gives Carlo the green light. After that, things move very fast. I’ve always been intrigued by the apparent ease of their escape. From what we know, Carlo had accomplices among the truck drivers, but how did he find them? A mystery. Filippo himself, in his initial account, has no idea. Has anyone investigated? Apparently not. The trucks’ pick-up schedule is changed and they’re half an hour late. None of the security guards seems concerned, nobody keeps an eye on the rubbish collectors while they load the skip. In my view, I think the only thing that hadn’t been planned by the prison management, or by Carlo, is that Filippo gets mixed up in the whole thing. Daniele and the girl are waiting for Carlo at the dump, and drive him to the mountains, carefully concealing themselves from that parasite Filippo. Once they’re rid of Filippo, Daniele drives Carlo to the Milan bank. There, once again, it’s a cinch, Carlo and his accomplices know the security guards’ timetable down to the minute, even though it changes daily. They are anticipated and Carlo is shot down by Brigadier Renzi. Bonamico then takes off and disappears, having fulfilled his contract.’