Anna appeared from the woods, still aiming her pistol at Carlo’s body as she bent down to take his weapon. She felt his pulse before looking up and saying to the still stunned men, ‘he’s dead, and it’s all over now.’ She ran to Enzo, hugged him with relief, and kissed him. She was still shaking with emotion as she said, ‘I heard loud voices coming from over here so I crawled over to investigate. I moved slowly through the undergrowth hoping that the shooter wouldn’t see or hear me and when I saw Carlo holding Enzo I positioned myself behind him, stood up and fired.’ She turned to face Angelo, ‘Marco’s been shot and he’s lying on the ground back there.’ She pointed behind her. ‘I think he’s unconscious.’
Enzo thought for a moment, ‘go down and radio in for assistance Anna, you’re the fittest one here. We’ll go and see what we can do for Marco.’
At that, the two men, rushed over to where Marco was and did their best to stem the flow of blood from his arm. Angelo used his trouser belt as a tourniquet on the injured arm. At the same time Enzo, using his pocketknife, began to cut some wood for a makeshift stretcher. The two men used their shoelaces to tie some cross bars to the frame, and after ten minutes or so, they were finished. They gently lifted Marco, who was still unconscious, onto the stretcher. Angelo then lifted the briefcase and placed it at Marco’s feet. They then lifted the stretcher, and slowly carried him down the hillside, with Angelo leading the way. Their progress was quite slow as they were careful to avoid tripping over anything in their path.
Just as they reached the road, they heard the sound of sirens. An ambulance and two police cars were speeding towards them. They lowered the stretcher and waited on the vehicles reaching them. Instinctively, Angelo took the briefcase from the stretcher.
The ambulance pulled up beside them and they were both surprised when they saw Anna getting out of the front. ‘I met them at the car park below and jumped in to show them where you were. How is he?’
No one answered her. They lifted Marco gently into the ambulance. Angelo then climbed inside, still clutching the briefcase. With the siren blaring they were about to move off when there was a loud banging noise on the back doors. When the attendant opened them, Anna was standing there with tears streaming down her face. ‘Please let me come with you in the ambulance Signor Corti, I love your son and I don’t want to leave him like this.’
Angelo was visibly moved. He gave Anna his hand and helped her climb in. He looked at her tear-stained face and reddened eyes and felt unexplainably close to her. He hugged her and said ‘You love my son?’ She stopped crying and said to him, ‘yes, I really do.’ Angelo nodded and turned to the driver saying, ‘Ok, let’s get my son to the hospital.’
Enzo, who had stayed behind to direct the removal of the dead terrorist’s body, pulled another cigarette from a packet and put it between his lips. With a practised flip of his Zippo, he lit it and revelled in the private cloud of smoke billowing from his nose. He drew deeply on the cigarette until the lit end glowed deep red.
How had it come to this? He thought. Eight people killed over some letters from people who are long dead. He thought of the hours of report writing he had in front of him, and the endless meetings with SISI and his own superiors because of these damn letters. He drew deeply on his cigarette and cursed. He was retiring next year and his only thought was for a quiet time, and now this. He wondered if it would have been any different if he had managed to have that talk with Carlo before all this started. Perhaps it may have changed things, who knows. With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled out another cigarette.
Through the cloud of smoke, he reflected on Togneri’s role in recent events. Who was he representing? Was he Red Brigade or not? He remembered a story a Mafioso he arrested some years ago had told him. The Mafioso had said there was someone high placed in the Lucca Carabinieri who was a Made Man in the Cosa Nostra, and who had infiltrated the Red Brigades posing as an activist. The allegation was that he, under orders from his Don, had been using the Red Brigades as the Mafia’s private assassination squad whenever they required someone done away with. The police investigation that would then follow focused on the Red Brigades, and the Mafia, as usual, stayed silent in the shadows.
Enzo wondered if the story was true. Internal Affairs had investigated the allegation, but had found no evidence to support it. He laughed at this. He well knew that there was nothing, simply nothing that happened in Italy without the knowledge or consent of the Cosa Nostra, or Our Thing. The organisation without a name.
Enzo pulled out another cigarette, and wondered what truth was. His father used to say that in an argument the truth had three sides to it. Both parties presented their interpretation of it, and then there was the true truth.
He threw down his cigarette and again thought of the report writing and endless meetings in front of him. What he didn’t need was another can of worms opened up regarding some speculation, without evidence, of Cosa Nostra involvement. He drew another cigarette from his pack and decided to let sleeping dogs lie. He wasn’t about to take on the Organisation himself.
Chapter 16
Spring had turned into summer and Marco stood at the window watching with delight the antics of the birds playing in the trees. It felt good to be alive, and especially today. Anna was coming to the hospital to pick him up for the ceremony taking place at the town hall in Lucca,
He was being decorated with the Order of the Cavaliere Della Merita by no less a person than the President of the Italian Republic. This was the closest to a British Knighthood that the Italian State could bestow on one of their citizens and Marco was thrilled to be considered for this award.
After the shooting, he had been taken to the intensive care ward at Lucca hospital, where he had remained unconscious for three days. During that time the doctors had fought hard to save his life. He had lost a lot of blood and his wound had become infected. The Doctors thought they would have to amputate his arm, and had told his parents and Anna to be prepared for the worst. Slowly he had responded to the treatment, and the arm was saved. That had been six weeks ago and now he felt ready to carry on with his life. The wound in his arm was healing well. He knew that he had lost part of the muscle and that it would never be the same again, however, he was alive and in love. He adjusted the sling around his neck slightly.
Anna had been to visit him every day, and they had spent many hours alone in the ward talking about the future. He had made up his mind that this was the day he would ask her to marry him. They were deeply in love and couldn’t bear to be apart from each other. He planned to ask her after the ceremony and he wanted it to be a big surprise to her. He loved her with all his being. He was sure of this, not for the joy he felt when they were together, but for the ache in his heart when they were apart. He knew for sure that this was true love and he was sure that she felt the same towards him. He had been planning the surprise for a few days now, and had even asked a jeweller to visit him in the hospital to show him some engagement rings. He had finally made his choice. A single diamond solitaire on a gold shank.
Anna looked even more stunning than usual. She was wearing a light blue two-piece suit, with a matching hat. The skirt, almost reaching her knees, showed off her long slim legs and the overall impression was one of beauty and elegance. She was also wearing diamond earrings with a matching pendant that had belonged to her mother.
The events of the last few weeks had disturbed Anna more than anyone realised. Being involved in the recovery of the letters and in the deaths of so may people had led her to question her role in the Carabinieri. A few days ago, she had come to the decision that she needed to resign from the force and take some time off to consider her future. However, all that was for another time. Today was a celebration.
She knocked on the ward door and went in.
Marco’s face lit up when he saw her. ‘You look so beautiful I could cry,’ said Marco as he held her close to him. ‘Just be careful of my makeup,’ she said, pulling back slightly. ‘Let me look at you
Cavaliere Corti.’
Marco stood back and bowed for effect. ‘I’ve never seen anyone close up in tails before’, said Anna smiling. ‘You just look so handsome. Let me see you with the top hat on.’ Marco put on the top hat self-consciously and posed a little more.
‘I think we should leave now,’ said Anna, ‘before I voice my wicked thoughts.’ They both laughed and made for the door. The band was playing the Italian National Anthem and the watching public were standing out of respect for it. When they finished playing and the people sat down, the Italian President walked onto the podium. He took out his notes and began to speak: ‘Dear friends, honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen. We have come to this place, in the beautiful city of Lucca, to pay homage to a very brave man who by his actions has enriched the Italian nation. By these actions, with disregard for his own life when he was wounded, he recovered valuable documents that shed light on a period of history when the world went mad. These documents are now being examined by academics from around the world and once their studies have been completed they will, on rotation, be displayed in museums throughout Italy. Today, I am pleased to announce that the Italian State is honouring this brave man with the Cavaliere Della Merita and I ask him to come forward to receive it.’
Marco stepped onto the platform to the sound of thunderous applause. He walked up to the President and stood to attention before him. The President opened the decoration’s clasp and pinned it on Marco’s jacket lapel, to yet more applause. The President kissed Marco on both cheeks, shook his hand and led him to the microphone.
Marco looked out at the crowd, paused for a moment, looked directly at the TV cameras then said. ‘Your Excellency, honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen and last but not least, my parents. I am honoured and delighted to be awarded this prestigious decoration, for myself and for my parents Elizabeth and Angelo. I thank you all for coming here to join me in this celebration and I thank the President for taking time out from his busy schedule to present me with it. Thank you all.’
The audience applauded and cried out bravo, bravo. He signalled for them to stop and sombrely said into the microphone. ‘One last thing before I go. I would like to ask my girlfriend Anna Bastiani, the most beautiful girl in the world, in front of the TV cameras, to do me the honour of being my wife. I love you very much and I want to marry you very very soon. Please say yes.’
The crowd went wild, as only an Italian crowd could do. Even the President was applauding. They began to chant Anna, Anna, Anna. Anna, who was sitting near the front with Marco’s parents, was stunned. Eventually she came out of her daze and stood up, smoothed her suit and ran towards the platform She couldn’t get up beside Marco as her skirt, was too tight until Enzo and Angelo came to her rescue and lifted her up between them. She stood facing Marco with her eyes sparkling with joy and kissed him fully on the lips. After what seemed an eternity, she tore herself away from him, reached for the microphone and shouted ‘yes, yes, yes,’ into it. They embraced and kissed again, then waved to the applauding crowd. Marco then went down on one knee and opened the ring box he held in his hand. He took the ring out and put it on Anna’s finger. Anna cried with delight, and with unrestrained joy danced a little jig on the platform.
Chapter 17
The wedding ceremony took place in Lucca at the church of San Michele in Foro in the main square with all Marco’s and Anna’s friends and family present. Anna had asked Enzo to give her away and her Aunt Rina was delighted to be her Matron of Honour. Anna wondered if Enzo could last the whole mass without a cigarette.
Marco had been in contact with his old army friend, Dusty Miller and he was over the moon to be asked to be his best man. Dusty was now a car salesman in Manchester, still single, and looking forward to catching up with his old buddy again.
The reception after the nuptial mass was held in Il Bugno, a restaurant in Fornaci di Barga, a village not far from Angelo’s birthplace of Coreglia. Il Bugno, which means beehive, was a large restaurant set in the Tuscan hills of la Garfagnana, (the great woodland) with lots of room for dancing. Just perfect for a wedding celebration.
Angelo stood up after the meal to say a few words,’ it is with great joy in our hearts that Elizabeth and I welcome Anna into our family. She is a special girl and we love her as a daughter. I hope that she and Marco will be as happy in their life together as Elizabeth and I have been in ours. So raise your glasses in the time honoured way and say together Cent Anni, Cent Anni.’
The guests responded by tapping their wine glasses with a spoon, along with the cry of a Hundred years a hundred years, echoing round the room.
After the toast, a small rotund figure slipped out of the restaurant and stood in the restaurant car park with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. The metallic click of a Zippo lighter could be clearly heard as a small flame lit up his moustached face.
Chapter 18
14th September 1998
It was Angelo’s tenth birthday and he was enjoying the moment as all small boys do. His mother and father had taken him on holiday to Italy and they were now standing in front of a glass display case in the Lucca museum. ‘Is that one of the letters you saved from the Red Brigades dad?’ the small boy asked, with the direct innocence that most children have. Marco answered him, ‘yes there were quite a few letters son. The rest are being shown in museums throughout Italy.’ Angelo looked at his dad with doubt written on his face, ‘did you and mum really fight them before I was born dad?’ Marco looked at his son and ruffled his hair as he said, ‘Yes Angelo, we did. And I don’t know anyone who could fight with your mum and win.’
‘Can we go for ice cream now mum?’ Anna answered, ‘Ok, but I’m sure it won’t be as good as the ice cream we make at home in Scotland.’
‘When are we going home mum?’ Asked Angelo.
‘Tomorrow son, tomorrow we fly home to Scotland.’
Legacy of Sorrows Page 26