desperate final search for the map, to a real plan,which had already involved Aglie, Rakosky, Rachkovsky, Ragotgky,the bearded gentleman, and the Tres, not to mention the Templars ofProvins. Which story in turn was based on the assumption that thecolonel was right. Except that he was right by being wrong, becauseour Plan, after all, was different from his, and if his was true,then ours couldn't be true, and vice versa, and therefore, if wewere right, why had Rakosky, ten years ago, stolen a wrong documentfrom the colonel?

Just reading, the othermorning, what Belbo had confided to Abulafia, I felt like bangingmy head against the wall: to convince myself that the wall, atleast the wall, was really there. I imagined how Belbo must havefelt that day, and in the days that followed. But it wasn't overyet.

Needing someone to talkto, he telephoned Lorenza. She wasn't in. He was willing to bet hewould never see her again. In a way, Lorenza was a creatureinvented by Aglie, and Aglie was a creature invented by Belbo, andBelbo no longer knew who had invented Belbo. He picked up thenewspaper again. The one sure thing was that he was the man in thepolice drawing. To convince him further, at that moment the phonerang. For him again, in the office. The same Balkan accent, thesame instructions. Meeting in Paris.

"Who are you, anyway?"Belbo shouted.

"We're the Tres," thevoice replied, "and you know more about the Tres than wedo."

Belbo took the bull bythe horns and called De Angelis. At headquarters they madedifficulties; the inspector, they said, was no longer workingthere. When Belbo insisted, they gave in and put him through tosome office.

"Ah, Dr. Belbo, what asurprise!" De Angelis said in a tone that suggested sarcasm."You're lucky you caught me. I'm packing my suitcases."

"Suitcases?" Was that ahint?

"I've been transferredto Sardinia. A peaceful assignment, apparently."

"Inspector De Angelis, Ihave to talk to you. It's urgent. It's about thatbusiness...."

"Business? Whatbusiness?"

"The colonel. And theother thing... Once, you asked Ca-saubon if he'd heard any mentionof the Tres. Well, I have. And I have things to tell you, importantthings."

"I don't want to hearthem. It's not my case anymore. And it's a little late in the day,don't you think?"

"Yes, I admit it. I keptsomething from you years ago. But now I want to talk."

"Not to me, Dr. Belbo.First of all, I should tell you that someone is surely listening toour conversation, and I want that someone to know that I refuse tohear anything and that I don't know anything. I have two children,small children. And I've been told something could happen to them.To show me it wasn't a joke, yesterday morning, when my wifestarted the car, the hood blew off. A very small charge, hardlymore than a firecracker, but enough to convince me that if theywant to, they can. I went to the chief, told him I've always donemy duty, sometimes went beyond the call of duty, but I'm no hero.My life I'm willing to lay down, but not the lives of my wife andchildren. I asked for a transfer. Then I went and told everybodywhat a coward I am, and how I'm shitting in my pants. Now I'msaying it to you and to whoever's listening to us. I've ruined mycareer, I've lost my self-respect, I'm a man without honor, but I'msaving my loved ones. Sardinia is very beautiful, I'm told, and Iwon't even have to lay money aside to send the children to thebeach in the summer. Good-bye."

"Wait, I'm introuble...."

"You're in trouble?Good. When I asked for your help, you wouldn't give it to me.Neither would your friend Casaubon. But now that you're introuble... Well, I'm in trouble, too. You've come too late. Thepolice, as they say in the movies, are at the service of thecitizen. Is that what you're thinking? Then call the police, callmy successor."

Belbo hung up.Wonderful: they had even prevented him from turning to the onepoliceman who might have believed him.

Then it occurred to himthat Signor Garamond, with all his acquaintances¡Xprefects, policechiefs, high officials¡Xcould lend a hand. He rushed tohim.

Garamond listened to hisstory affably, interrupting him with polite exclamations like "Youdon't say," "Of all things," "Why, it sounds like a novel." Then heclasped his hands, looked at Belbo with profound understanding, andsaid: "My boy, allow me to call you that, because I could be yourfather¡X well, perhaps not your father, because I'm still a youngman, more, a youthful man, but your older brother, yes, if you'llallow me. I'll speak to you from the heart. We've known each otherfor so many years. It seems to me that you're overexcited, at theend of your tether, nerves shot, more, tired. Don't think I don'tappreciate it; I know you give body and soul to the Press, and oneday this must be considered also in what I might call materialterms, because that never does any harm. But, if I were you, I'dtake a vacation.

"You say you findyourself in an embarrassing situation. To be frank, I mightsay¡Xnot to dramatize¡Xbut it would be unpleasant for GaramondPress, too, if one of its editors, its best editor, were involvedin any kind of dubious business. You tell me that someone wants youto travel to Paris. It's not necessary to go into details; Ibelieve you, naturally. So go to Paris. Isn't it best to clearthings up at once? You say you find yourself¡X how shall I putit?¡Xon conflictual terms with a gentleman like Count Aglie. Idon't want to know the details, or what happened between the two ofyou, but I wouldn't brood too much on that similarity of names youmentioned. The world is full of people named German, or somethingsimilar. Don't you agree? If Aglie sends you word to come to Parisand we'll clear everything up, well then, go to Paris. It won't bethe end of the world. In human relationships, it's always best tobe straightforward, frank. Go to Paris, and if you have anything onyour chest, don't hold it back. What's in your heart should be onyour lips. What do all these secrets matter!

"Count Aglie, if I'veunderstood correctly, complains because you don't want to tell himwhere some map

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