There would be no bloodshed, no gun or other weapons. The mysterious man would come with them. Actually, his name was Ugo. A stout clerical worker who had two hobbies: he was a practitioner of judo and a fan of bondage. He liked to tie people up and watch their contortions. Some time ago, Ugo had entered the world of clandestine films; in particular, he produced films in which acts of violence were simulated or reenacted. Ugo wouldn’t know anything about the gold tokens; besides, all he cared about was tying people up and filming the scene. The plan, then, was simple. Peppe had persuaded Ugo to set up a real snuff movie, to sell later on the clandestine market. Peppe and Ugo would go into the agency, and tie up Matteo and Daniela. The whole thing would be filmed by a small camera. After that, while Ugo was preparing to film the two of them, bound and gagged, Peppe would hit him on the head, tie him up, grab the gold tokens, and deliver them to the kids. Francesco agreed to everything except one small detaiclass="underline" He wanted to take part in the robbery. Peppe insisted that he shouldn’t. Why take that risk? Francesco was ready for a risk. Francesco trusted Peppe only up to a certain point; he liked him but felt that basically Peppe would always be a piece of shit. Yet Francesco didn’t consider him a moron. Peppe, on the other hand, had understood Francesco’s doubt. More than legitimate. Good sign, Francesco was right not to trust him. Smart, that kid. He would let him come. The robbery couldn’t be fully set up in advance, they would have to act on the moment. When the storefront’s metal shutter had been lowered halfway. There, that was the signal. Ugo would be ready, he lived just across from the place. They would wait at his house for the right moment. There were plenty of films for diversion. Right, said Cinzia.
Peppe
On the morning of May 20, shortly before going to Ugo’s house as he had for the previous three days, to check on the activity at the agency, Peppe received a phone call. A kind, solicitous voice told him that he had better sit down. At the end of the call, Peppe said to himself: What do I do now, I don’t have a cent.
Ugo
Ugo had all the equipment ready.
Francesco
Around 11 in the morning, through a window at Ugo’s house, he thought he saw his father walking around the neighborhood. Odd, he said to himself, this isn’t his day to visit.
The Agency
Matteo lowered the shutter halfway down around 3. About a minute earlier two private guards had delivered several bags. Matteo seemed to be asleep on his feet.
The Architect
At 3 he had arrived in the neighborhood to begin his exploratory tour.
Peppe, Francesco, etc., and the Final Unfolding of Events, According to the Police Report
The three of them, Peppe, Francesco, and Ugo, entered the agency. The plan had been organized this way: Right after the robbery, Peppe and Francesco, on the motorcycle, would head for Tonino’s. The important thing was to deliver the gold tokens, get them to a safe place right away. Peppe and Francesco had discussed who should drive. Francesco wanted to drive, because, as he reminded Peppe, his brain, unfortunately, played nasty tricks. Peppe himself had told Francesco about the time he thought he was braking and accelerated instead. The first terrible symptom of the brain tumor. Peppe, however, insisted on driving: With him driving, they would seem a pair, father and son, and would attract less attention. And after that one day, it had never happened again. When he had to brake he braked, and when he had to accelerate he accelerated. That type of symptom had disappeared. In the end, the older man’s wish was respected.
Wearing ski masks, the three entered the agency at 3:50 p.m., and the first person they came across was, unexpectedly, Carlo, Francesco’s father. He was trying to take notes, in a notebook. Carlo, seeing the three in their ski masks, and imagining that they were there to grab the gold tokens, did something that he had never in his life done before and would never repeat: He violently struck the first man he came to — his son Francesco. Who, after the blow, stood absolutely motionless, as if he had received an order to stand at attention. Carlo stopped, in turn, because the blow seemed to have paralyzed his hand. At this point Ugo intervened and, with a handkerchief soaked in chloroform, immobilized Carlo, then knocked him out, while Peppe flung himself on Matteo, using the same approach. It didn’t take much; Matteo was already asleep on his feet and expected it. The only problem was Daniela, who started screaming, but she was immediately restrained. Once this was done, Peppe — while Ugo, already excited, began to tie up the three and film them — glanced at Francesco. The boy was staggering about the room, as if stunned. Peppe immediately grabbed the bags. They were very heavy. He put them in a gym bag, then made a sign to Ugo, who immobilized Francesco too. Francesco put up some weak resistance before the chloroform knocked him out. When he came to, he found himself in an embarrassing position: He was in his underwear, and his legs were tied together with his arms — like a salami. His father was next to him, bound in the same position. For all practical purposes, they were two morons. In front of them was Ugo, tied to a table. The camera was shooting him, half-asleep. Peppe went up to Francesco and said: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go like this. I found out a little while ago about a miracle — they made the wrong diagnosis. I’m not going to die, and that is good news; the bad news is that I didn’t have a cent — I’ve spent everything, and I’m desperate. I need money. I’m taking it all and getting out. When they find you, you’ll be able to say you were the victim of a robbery. Or confess everything, including my name. But don’t do that. First of all, because it will be too late, I’ll already be gone. Second, because if you become known at your young age, then you’re finished in this line of work. And you have the stuff. Don’t waste your talent.
After which Peppe got on the motorcycle and sped off in great excitement, the wind cooling his sweat.
It Was an Instant
The first symptom hinting at a brain tumor had been difficulty walking. Peppe had wanted to accelerate and instead he braked. It was an instant, then he retook control of the situation. When, shortly before the robbery, the doctor, a woman, in tears, apologizing over and over again, explained about the mistake — a simple, stupid, imbecilic mixup of X-rays — Peppe felt as if he had been reborn. And as a result of that sensation, he was like a child who has not yet learned to walk. For long minutes, in fact, he couldn’t remember how to walk. Now, on the motorcycle, with the gold tokens, he felt that he had regained full control of his faculties. He was happy. The horizon was clear.
He certainly didn’t expect a drunk to cross the street like that. Obviously Peppe tried to brake, but because of a sort of strange, unexpected symptom, he accelerated and hit the man.
The Architect
Riccardo came out of the bar and realized that he was about to faint. A classic drop in blood sugar. Riccardo often watched the TV show Paperissima, which featured people caught at embarrassing moments, and laughed heartily when he saw couples passing out at the altar from emotion. He couldn’t understand how it was possible to lose your strength like that, so that you seemed like a sack of potatoes left to itself, or someone who, given a push, staggers slightly, then, taking a dozen steps forward, falls flat on his face, powerless, like a dead man. He had the thought that the neighborhood was in the process of being renovated, before his sight darkened; and in spite of the blackness into which he was plunged, he took five steps, like a drunk, right into the middle of the street, and was violently struck by a motorcycle proceeding at high speed. When, after seventy-two hours, Riccardo finally regained consciousness, he realized, reading the newspaper, that he had been an involuntary hero, one who brings about the arrest of the foolish old protagonist of a comic heist of gold tokens, because, having fainted, he ends up under the motorcycle and flies forward a few meters. Every article he read emphasized the fact that the gold tokens, scattered all over the street, had been set upon by the neighborhood residents. Of every age, old and young, new arrivals and longtime inhabitants.