Escape by Dominique Manotti Page B

repercussions! Are you kidding? What political repercussions? Since Carlo’s death, everything we feared, like everything we wanted to avoid, has happened in spades. The Red Brigades’ declaration was buried deep, it was never discussed or commented on by anyone. The left’s programme is the same as that of the right. First goal: massive repression of the far left, thousands of activists in prison, five thousand according to my figures, no amnesty, those turned informant, the traitors, held up as a pillar of justice and model citizens. And a new Law of Dissociation, a brilliant invention, that has hit us hard. Second goal: clear the assassins involved in the wholesale massacres, the secret service henchmen. In less than a year, they’ve had the effrontery to clear the Piazza Fontana killers, the Brescia and the
Italicus
train bombers. And no one protests. So they’ll continue. Result: some of our former activists, completely disoriented, can’t stop the violence. Two more supposedly political assassinations this month, for which there is no justification now that the war is over. From that point of view, you were right: setting up Carlo was pointless, we’re big enough to commit suicide all by ourselves.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear you say so.’
    ‘And the rot is contagious. As a result of being afraid to take us back, the Italian Communist Party is on its last legs, taking with it an entire shared political culture. People don’t do politics any more in Italy, they do business, it’s the grand ball of the corruptors and the corrupt.’
    She stands up, opens her arms and smiles at Roberto.
    ‘May I have this dance?’
    ‘Stop, you’re doing my head in. We know all that. Sit down and listen to me. I’m talking about the impact that this book might have here, in France. The papers say that Zuliani has applied for political asylum. If he gets it, he’ll be giving the Italian government the perfect excuse to ask the French to abolish political refugee status. You, me, lots of others, we’ll all end our lives in jail.’
    Lisa eats a pastry in silence staring out at the garden, and Roberto doesn’t rush her. Then he adds, ‘The lawyers will be there. Their opinion is decisive.’
    A fresh silence, then Lisa:
    ‘You win, Roberto, as always.’
     
    The vast, drab room where the meeting is taking place is packed. The discussion has not yet begun. People crowd round the copious buffet and the noise level is deafening. Lisa steps into the room, tense, as if she wishes she were elsewhere. Giovanni is sitting on a table right beside the door, legs dangling, glass in hand, talking and laughing loudly.
    ‘Carlo’s double, betrayed and assassinated by his accomplices in a spectacular coup, I’m sure Lisa appreciates that. Conspiracy theory and showmanship, it’s all there. She could almost have penned the scenario herself.’
    Lisa plants herself in front of him and hisses:
    ‘You’ll say anything to sound clever.’
    ‘And you love making an entrance. We’re quits, dear Lisa.’
    Those close to both Giovanni and Lisa start telling othersabout the heated exchange. Roberto senses a row brewing and hastily calls for silence, then opens the meeting.
    ‘We’re gathered here today with our lawyers to discuss Zuliani’s book and its potential repercussions.’ People turn towards Lisa who says simply: ‘The book is a novel. Like all novels, it is of no importance, now let’s change the subject.’
    While one of the lawyers explains that things aren’t quite like that, and that Zuliani, his publisher and the press are making the most of the ambiguous relations the author is alleged to have had with one of the Red Brigades leaders, Giovanni, sitting next to Lisa, leans over to her and whispers: ‘We robbed banks a few years ago, and better than Carlo. I remember a period when we were doing one a month. Nobody made such a fuss back then.’
    Lisa replies in an undertone: ‘But those were different times. That’s