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admitted to having anything to do with the placement of the bomb, and the other statements shed no light on who had built it or who could have had a motive for placing it.
    El Chimo was arrested because he had boasted about having been behind the bombing to a friend, who turned out to be a police informant. After ratting out the boy, his so-called friend, and fellow rapscallion, Marcelino, received from a policeman—a certain Officer Quintela—a dinner, some clothes, and twenty-five pesetas for his work. Once in custody, El Chimo started talking, recognizing that he had transported the bomb and that Rosa Mestres had put him up to it.
    The case against him was, in my view, very flimsy, overseen by a military judge—as Barcelona was at that time under martial law—and had a great many holes in it. During the trial, following my advice, El Chimo recanted his original statements, saying that he could not recall exactly what he had done the day of the incident, though in the morning he had been with a kid named Moreno, with whom he “went robbing” (
sic
), and swore that he had given his initial testimony “in order to appear in the newspapers.” In response to my questions he reported that his informer, Marcelino, had come up with the bomb idea, and realized when the explosive went off that he hadn’t been in Rosa Mestres’s house in two months.
    Everything was rather convoluted, with diametrically opposed testimony given.
    I gave my closing statement in the trial’s fourth session. After acknowledging the magistrates, the jury, and the prosecution, I began by describing the trial underway as a process arising out of vanity, for it was vanity—his desire to see himself portrayed and appearing in the papers—which spurred El Chimo to declare himself guilty of a crime that he did not commit.
    I railed against the “special” treatment my client had received from the police, at which point the chief magistrate called for order in the court. I explained that I had taken the case in response to the entreaties of an aunt of the accused, and because I was convinced of El Chimo’s innocence (as Caballé had nothing to do with trade unionism), and that he had had nothing to do with the attack. I added that, after taking charge of the defense I had received many anonymous letters (which was true) to which I had paid no heed.
    I then reviewed the facts attributed to Caballé in detail, paying attention to all the records on the case. Although one of the witnesses said that he recognized El Chimo as the one who had left the cart next to the palace, other reports and statements contradicted this, stating that the person who took the cart with the bomb in it to Las Cortes Street was a tall, slender man with a dark mustache wearing a blue suit and espadrilles.
    “Is this any description of the defendant?” I asked rhetorically. “No.” Only one of the witnesses said that he looked like the one with the cart, from the back.
    With regard to the statement that landed my client in jail, I argued that Marcelino Ferrer, the informant, had been compensated for his testimony with money and clothing, which called entirely into question the veracity of his words.
    I described El Chimo as a victim of social marginalization, and urged the jury not to hand down a punishment on someone against whom there was no evidence at all. “The prosecutorbegan his statement with a triple request for peace, evoking the motto of the Catalonian somatenes. I, then, ask for justice, justice, and always justice.”
    I continued by exclaiming, “I cannot believe that Barcelona as a society wishes, in response to the attack it has suffered, to take revenge against a child, a braggart, a puppet, and a swindler like El Chimo. I cannot believe,” I insisted, “that tomorrow the criminal hands which placed the bomb will be making paper airplanes with the newspapers reporting the defendant’s conviction!” The whispers that spread throughout the chamber