It’s even surprising how much this novel resembles the famous film “17 Moments of Spring” in the way the hero plunges into the world of his thoughts, doubts, quests and anxieties. Perhaps the reason for this is the spirit of the times, since Semenov’s “moments” were written just a year later, in 1969, and, undoubtedly, were influenced by the same methods that dominated the art of intelligence. True, in the film, based on the novel by Rainov, in which he was also the screenwriter, Emil Boyev’s long and difficult thoughts were not conveyed verbally, but were only briefly and conventionally depicted using dramatic techniques, but this film does not last twelve episodes, as “17 moments,” but judging by the hour and a half length, only one or two.
Naturally, for this reason, many important plot points were not included in the film, which is why the film narrative may seem rather chaotic and completely incomprehensible to a viewer who has not read the book, but brevity also has its benefit. We must pay tribute to the cast of this film, especially those who played Emil and Edith, Georgiy Georgiev-Getz and Elena Rainova, who managed to enrich the tough spy-detective plot with strong lyrical feelings and experiences.
The second chapter of the novel begins with Boyev’s analysis of the consequences of the deaths of Angelov and Conti. He has no illusions about the progress of the investigation and immediately says that both crimes will not be solved. The reader is further informed that even before the cascade of murders, Emil perfectly understood how complex and difficult the intelligence task assigned to him was.
The elimination of two characters in a short time showed him that this mission, among other things, was of increased importance, although Boyev could not understand what exactly it was. He notes that in the struggle between two intelligence services, murder is not at all an ordinary thing, and even calls such an opinion “an invention of novelists.”
On the contrary, in the work of spies, taking a person’s life is an extreme measure, from which it follows that the enemies who killed Angelov sought at all costs to avoid the disclosure of certain important information. It was the fear of possible exposure that prompted them to remove Conti as well.
In connection with this determination in eliminating the people who interfered with them, Boyev cannot understand why the enemies so generously left alive an official from the Venetian branch of the Zodiac, Carlo Morandi, who contacted a Bulgarian employee recruited by Western intelligence, handed him a radio station and ordered him to begin work. After all, Lyubo Angelov considered Morandi the only thread that could help unwind the tangle of enemy plans.
This question haunts Emil, who, for the sake of secrecy, is constantly in the thick of tourist crowds and therefore studies the sights of Venice far and wide. In the end, he decides that Morandi was left alive so that he could serve as bait for intelligence officers from the socialist camp, quite possibly still conducting their activities in the ancient Italian city.
It must be admitted that it is difficult to deny Boyev’s insightful mind, as well as his ingenuity. Having waited for Morandi to leave for Geneva, Emil, in order to obtain additional information about him, simply begins an affair with Anna Ferrari, Morandi’s mistress. Having used generous gifts and taken his new girlfriend to luxurious restaurants, he quickly wins Anna's favor and learns from her that Morandi used to visit behind the Iron Curtain on official errands.
The author pays quite a lot of attention to the presentation of Boyev’s train of thought in the process of recruiting this woman. It shows that the Bulgarian intelligence officer is confident that it is easy to start a relationship with a lady, showering her with jewelry and buying her a large number of clothes.
At the same time, Anna’s other gentlemen, including Morandi, seem to be rather poor and even beggarly men who do not have the same elastic wallet as Boyev. It is possible that this storyline contains an ideological order to portray Western men as losers, unable to create for their women the same luxurious living conditions that may appear to them at the wave of the hand of visiting representatives of the socialist camp.
It should be noted that the realities of the late sixties were somewhat different, and therefore it is difficult to imagine that an ordinary resident of a socialist country would so easily have an affair with a Venetian woman, generously spending a lot of money on her. Alas, if the Eastern European builder of communism had not been an intelligence officer with solid material resources at his disposal to complete the task, he would not have even bought the Italian lady a pair of expensive shoes.
By the way, Boyev is also in no hurry to turn his romance with Anna into a fabulous fireworks display and is thinking about how to keep the funds spent on this luxurious woman within reasonable limits so that “expenses do not exceed income,” although he leaves money here and there that is not his own , but state ones.
Thus, the author did not miss the opportunity, voluntarily or unwittingly, to introduce an ideological haze into his novel and through it to show that life in Western countries is far from being as easy and wonderful as the residents of Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, embittered by socialist realities, might have thought, readers from which are clearly also had in mind when writing this book.