Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

next best thing. He put a small suitcase on my desk, and when heopened it, there lay three little bombs."They may be small," he said to me, "but they're powerful.They're the ones we used in the attacks on the Spanish consulate inPerpignan and on the Bordeaux-Marseille train."Dumbfounded, I asked him what he wanted and why he'd cometo me. He replied that he had no intention of hiding his Fascistsympathies (he was a member of the Condor Legion) but that he wasdoing this because he despised his superior!"I want him arrested," he said simply. "Why is none of yourbusiness. But if you want to meet him, come to La Coupole tomorrowat five o'clock. He'll be the man on my right. I'll just leave thesewith you, then."As soon as he'd gone, I told Araquistan, who phoned the prefectof police. When their bomb experts got through with their analysis,it turned out that our terrorist had been right; they were more potentthan any others of that size.The next day, I invited the ambassador's son and an actress friendof mine to have a drink with me at La Coupole. The Colombian wasexactly where he said he'd be, sitting on the terrace with a group ofpeople. And as incredible as it may sound, I knew the man on hisright, and so did my friend. He was a Latin American actor, and weall shook hands quite amicably as we walked by. (His treacherouscolleague never moved a muscle.)Since I now knew the name of the leader of this terrorist group,as well as the hotel in Paris where he lived, I contacted the prefect,who was a Socialist, as soon as I got back to the embassy. He assuredme that they'd pick him right up; but time went by, and nothinghappened. Later, when I ran into the boss sitting happily with hisfriends at the Select on the Champs-Elysks, I wept with rage. Whatkind of world is this? I asked myself. Here's a known criminal, andthe police don't want any part of him!Shortly afterward, I heard from my Colombian informant again,who told me that his leader would be at our embassy the next day