“So to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”
Ansel took the lead, as promised. “Sorry to intrude so late at night, sir.”
“Please, no worries on that account.” Major Ricca gestured to the piles of paper on his desk. “As you can see, I was hardly asleep.”
Ansel took a deep breath and tried again. “There’s been an unfortunate development. One I think you need to be aware of, sir.”
“Go on.” The major’s tone was pleasant, seemingly unconcerned.
“Stefano Conti showed up backstage of One Fine Mess, asking questions tonight.”
Nothing flickered in the major’s eyes at the mention of Sr. Conti, but that didn’t mean anything. Even second-rate actors could portray indifference. “There’s no law against civilians attending a USO show.”
“No, sir. But Miss Heart and her friends also received a note several days ago asking them to claim a watch. From his store near the Tiber.”
The major’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly, but Vi caught it. Vindication sang in her blood. She had been right about Sr. Conti being tied to the note somehow.
Major Ricca smiled apologetically at Vi and started to get to his feet. “If you wouldn’t mind stepping into the hall, Miss Heart. The sergeant and I need to speak privately for a moment.”
“You should also know that after I got the note, I went to that clock shop,” Vi said, wanting to get her version told first, one that didn’t include Marcie. “Because I thought the watch was Luciana’s and wanted to do her a favor. Only there was no watch. And then the little boy there asked if I was taking him to the US. Even more surprising, on my way out, I saw Luciana in the crowd, heading toward that store.”
Major Ricca paused and then sat down. “I see.”
“But I didn’t tell anyone else in the troupe,” Vi said in a rush. “Nor did I tell anyone about the note being tied to the partisans. And for the record, my knowing wasn’t Sergeant Danger’s fault. I shouldn’t have followed him last night, but I didn’t know he was going on a mission or that we were going to run into enemy agents or that Ansel would have to kill them.”
“The sergeant will get a chance to speak for himself in a moment, Miss Heart,” the major said coolly.
Ansel shot her an annoyed look. Belatedly, she realized she had used his first name in front of his boss and had probably revealed a lot more about the botched rendezvous than he had wanted her to.
Good job, Vi, she thought, wanting to kick herself.
The major’s gaze switched to Ansel. “Why do I not remember Miss Heart being mentioned in your report?”
Ansel shifted uneasily in his chair. “Because she’s not in there.”
“I see.” The major’s face was like a mask. “May I ask why not?”
“He likely didn’t want to get me in trouble,” Vi said, trying to draw the major’s ire away from Ansel. “I wasn’t supposed to leave the theater without my travel buddy.”
Major Ricca pinned her with a hard look. “Again, Miss Heart, I think the sergeant can speak for himself.”
“Miss Heart is correct,” Ansel said calmly. “I didn’t want her to suffer any repercussions for her unwitting involvement in last night’s mission.”
“Despite her being a possible security leak.”
Ansel met the major’s stare without flinching. “I judged her not to be one, sir.”
“Major Ricca, sir . . .” Vi hesitated, not sure if she dared ask but also desperately wanting to know. “Forgive me, but is the little boy from the clock shop, Enzo, all right? He wasn’t there today, and his mother looked like she’d been beaten.”
“I’m sure Sr. Conti won’t let any harm befall his only son,” Major Ricca said, flicking her an irritated glance.
Vi blinked in surprise. “Son? Sr. Conti is Enzo’s father?”
“He is.” This time only one eyebrow rose. “Are you shocked, Miss Heart?”
“Only by the fact that he would ask me out knowing I’d met his wife.”
“But I doubt you have. Sra. Conti is currently at their very nice villa fifty miles to the north of here, unaware her husband is in Rome for anything but business.”
“So Enzo is his illegitimate son.” She chewed on this new piece of information for a moment, and more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “Which is why Enzo’s mother panicked when her son mentioned going to the US, because if Sr. Conti found out she was going to take his only son”—she glanced up at Major Ricca for confirmation and received a slight nod—“out of the country, he would likely react badly. Perhaps even put her in the hospital this time.”
“An interesting conjecture, Miss Heart.”
“Not much of a conjecture if you had seen what he’d done to her face!” Vi felt her temper spark. “Nor is it much of a stretch to think she might have told him about Luciana and the watch ruse and everything else that might have been going on. Did you think of that? Why else did he show up tonight, fishing around for the owner of the mythical watch? No, scratch that. I’ll tell you why. To warn off anyone who might be trying to take his son from him.”
“Interesting,” Major Ricca said, sounding anything but. “Assuming all that actually happened, why didn’t he just say his piece and leave once he found you?”
It was a valid point. Vi considered her response. “I guess, if it were me, I would be curious as to what my mistress and son were planning on trading for their safe passage. So I might not show my hand right away. Because she had to be offering something of importance. Something valuable enough to get the US Army involved.”
The major gave her an indulgent smile. “You have quite the imagination, Miss Heart.”
She straightened as something else clicked in her memory. She turned to Ansel. “You told me you’d just come from up north. Austria, I believe. And Luciana’s family, the ones she learned were taken by the Nazis, were also from the North, as I remember. And her cousin was a partisan . . . as was the redheaded woman looking for her that night in La Fiorentina . . . the one I saw last night in the stairwell. It all ties together.”
Ansel’s lips quirked, his expression seeming to be caught between dismay and rueful amusement.
Major Ricca rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. “Sergeant?”
“Now you see why I brought her here. Though, the good news is, it appears I’m the only one she’s told that theory to.”
“So far,” the major said dryly. He turned back to Vi. “Is there anyone else you’ve told this . . . tall tale to?”
Ignoring the question, which was clearly meant to make her doubt herself, which she didn’t, she returned to her real concern. “Major, this evening Sr. Conti made a point of singling out me and my friends. If he’s a threat to them, I need to know.”
“To do what, exactly?” he said, unmoved.
“Whatever I have to.” She leaned forward in her chair, her patience running out. “Look, I know something is up and that it involves the clock shop clerk, Luciana, the partisans, and Sr. Conti. That I’m here tells me that it’s serious. And as I’m in charge of Miss May’s safety, either tell me what’s going on or I investigate it myself.”
“She has his card, Major,” Ansel added. “Sr. Conti’s, that is. He told her to come by anytime.”
“He did?” The major sat back, his eyebrows raised. “That’s wonderful news. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Vi looked from the major to Ansel and then back. “Why’s that good?”
Ansel kept his eyes on the major, his expression tightening. “She’s a civilian, sir.”
“She’s part of the army, Sergeant.” Major Ricca rubbed his jaw. “But you’re right. Who was that other gal? Miss May, I think. In an earlier report, you mentioned she speaks Italian. And as I recall from Miss Heart’s conversation, Sr. Conti was interested in her friends, too. Perhaps we should send Miss May instead, given her language abilities?”
Vi jumped to her feet, horrified. “No! You can’t do that. Not Marcie!
”
Major Ricca flicked a glance at her. “Sit down, Miss Heart.”
“He’ll eat her alive. She has no experience with men. She’d be raped before you could say ‘jackrabbit.’”
“I said, sit down!” The major’s voice was like a whip.
Vi inwardly flinched but held her ground. “If you need someone to go, send me. I may not speak Italian, but I’m fluent in German—”
“Except we’re not in Germany, Miss Heart.” The major’s face was starting to flush with anger.
“For the record, Sr. Conti seemed perfectly fluent in English,” Vi continued, undeterred. “And I know how to defend myself if Sr. Conti should turn violent.”
Ansel snorted at that, no doubt thinking of her lack of success last night. But that fellow had gotten the drop on her, something she wouldn’t allow with Sr. Conti.
The major was quiet for a moment, his color returning to normal. Then he laughed softly. “You certainly don’t lack for courage. And you raise several good points.”
Ansel stiffened in his chair. “Sir, you can’t be thinking—”
“She already knows more than she should and has even secured an invitation to Sr. Conti’s private apartments, something our other agents haven’t been able to do.”
“She’s not been trained for this,” Ansel said a little desperately.
“Oh, come now, Danger,” the major said, admonishing him. “We’ve been using civilians in more dangerous operations than this for months now. All she need do is seduce Conti into telling her where the item is. How hard can that be?”
“She’s an innocent,” Ansel ground out.
“Then we can use one of the other dancers. I believe your report mentioned another girl—”
“No,” Vi interrupted. “The person you want is me.”
Ansel’s hand grabbed her arm. “No, Vi—”
She shook his hand off as she turned to Major Ricca. “If you need someone to seduce Sr. Conti, I’m your gal.”
“Vi!”
She drew a deep breath, her heart breaking as she prepared to fall on her own sword. But it had to be done; she had to protect Marcie. “Actually, seducing men is something I’m quite good at. Far better than Marcie could ever be. Better than anyone else in the cast. Because, you see . . .” She couldn’t look at Ansel, couldn’t bear to see his reaction, his look of disgust. “I used to do it for a living. I was a striptease artist in Chicago . . . and a prostitute. So you see, if anyone could handle a randy Italian nobleman, it would be me.”
The silence that followed her confession was like a knife in her soul.
No more Broadway dreams. No more touring with the USO. No more Ansel, because who would stay with her after such an admission?
But Marcie would remain safe and out of Sr. Conti’s clutches. Vi likely wouldn’t be around to keep her friend out of future trouble, but maybe she could find someone else to take over that duty for her.
“How about we just knock him unconscious so we can strip-search him somewhere more convenient than his apartment?” Ansel asked, his voice flat.
“Actually, I could help with that, too,” she said, squeezing her hands in her lap to keep from showing her distress. “All I would need is some chloral hydrate, some strong booze to mask the smell, and a little ice to kill the taste, and he’ll never know what hit him.”
The major stroked his chin thoughtfully, seemingly unfazed by her confession. “Interesting. In fact, that might solve a number of problems. It will shield our contact in his household from reprisal, deflect suspicion from the partisans, and introduce what could be a useful level of confusion on his part. Yes. I like it.” He picked up his pen to make a note on one of his papers. “I believe it was Giulia who said she knew someone on the staff of a local hospital who could be trusted.”
Ansel turned on her angrily. “You do know what Conti will do to you if he figures out you’re trying to drug him? You saw what he did to his mistress!”
“Don’t worry.” Vi waved the possibility away, even as a little thrill that the sergeant might still care about her warmed her frozen hopes. “I’ve slipped Mickeys to more dangerous men than him and always gotten away with it.”
“When?” Ansel demanded, his arms crossing over his chest as he continued to stare.
She had opened her mouth to tell him about Tony when the major interrupted.
“Now, now, Sergeant. Didn’t your mother teach you it’s impolite to doubt a lady’s word?” The major finished his note, sat back, and smiled. “I’m so glad Sergeant Danger brought you here tonight.”
“Me too.” Vi tried to smile back but failed, too aware of the grim soldier next to her. Come on, Vi, you wanted to secure Marcie’s safety, and now you have.
She just hadn’t expected it to come at such a high price.
“We’ll just need to check out your story, take a look at your passport.” Major Ricca folded his hands on the desk and cocked an eyebrow. “That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”
Vi shifted nervously. “I—I don’t have my passport with me.”
“I see. But all the information on there is correct, yes?”
“Uh . . .”
“I suspect it has her stage name on it,” Ansel said coldly, not looking at her. “She told me her real name is Violet Ernte of Chariton, Iowa. But seeing as she also said she was a stripper from Chicago, maybe that isn’t her real name.”
Oddly, the major’s smile deepened. “Don’t be disappointed, Sergeant. I’m sure she has a dozen or so names.”
Vi stilled, aware of a curious shift in the room’s atmosphere. “Is it a crime to have more than one stage name?”
“Stage name? No. But that’s not what we’re talking about here, is it, Miss Heart?” The major’s gaze sharpened. “Or should I call you Fräulein Ernte?”
Alarm bells rang in her head, turning her stomach to ice. “Wait! What?”
“Not that it matters.” The major stood. “Thank you, Sergeant, for bringing this young lady tonight. I’ll take it from here.”
“Sir, I don’t think—” Ansel began, also getting to his feet.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Vi asked, glancing uncertainly between the men.
The major started walking toward the door. “What’s going on, Miss Heart, is you’re under arrest.”
Chapter 30
“What? No! Why?” Vi’s whole universe shrank to just those two questions. Her ears buzzed. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe she had fallen asleep backstage and this was just some weird dream . . .
“Oh, come now, Miss Heart.” Major Ricca gave her a disappointed look, as if he’d expected better of her. “A German-speaking American who just happens to intercept a partisan message, then shows up at the store and attempts to interrogate one of our contacts. When that fails, she then tails Sergeant Danger to a partisan rendezvous—”
“But that’s not how it happened,” she said desperately.
“A rendezvous,” he continued over the top of her, “which was conveniently visited by not one but two SS agents, ultimately allowing her to save the day and gain the trust of the partisans—as well as Sergeant Danger here. And now that same young woman is more than happy to take on the task of seducing a dangerous man—one that is, perhaps not coincidentally, also of interest to the Nazis because he stole something from them—because, as she so readily admits, she has experience drugging men.”
“I’m not a spy,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Really?” The major cocked an eyebrow at Ansel. “Sergeant, what do you have to say in the matter?”
He sighed. “I was told the circumstances surrounding Miss Ernte joining the show were a bit irregular. An anonymous tip had a dancer fired right before the troupe left New York, and Miss Ernte was hired by the director shortly afterward. Sight unseen, as near as anyone could tell.”
“I can explain that,” Vi said, her heart beating wildly in a panic. “I know it looks bad, but it’s not what you think.”
; “I’m sure it isn’t, but I’ll leave that to the interrogators to sort out.” Major Ricca started walking toward the door.
“Wait,” Vi said, desperate now. “Yes, I took Janet’s spot. And yes, I’m here under an assumed name, but I can explain. It’s not because I’m a spy. It’s because I’m hiding from the police.”
“As alibis go, that’s a rather weak one,” the major said as he put his hand on the doorknob.
“I’m not working for the Nazis. I’m . . . I’m working for the Mob.”
A look passed between the major and Sergeant Danger, and the major returned to his chair and sat down.
“Tell me more.”
Vi’s breath released. The dam broken, she poured out her story about Tony’s death, and Sal finding her this position, and her orders to keep Marcie safe from oversexed soldiers and the girl’s own impulsivity, and how the whole reason she had followed Ansel the night before was to keep Marcie out of trouble.
Exhausted and finally out of words, she braced herself for the major’s verdict. She couldn’t even look at Ansel, too afraid of what she might see in his rugged face after this new revelation.
Someday she would learn her lesson and never again dream of redemption. Her bad choices in life had forever ruined her. She needed to just accept that.
“We’ll need to verify your story, of course,” the major said, finally. “Given the sensitivity of the situation, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay under guard until we do.”
“What is the Mob’s real hold on you, Vi?” Ansel asked, startling her.
“Isn’t avoiding arrest reason enough?” she asked with a careless wave of her hand, hoping he’d let it go. She’d shared enough secrets tonight.
“No.” Ansel pinned her with a hard look. “I don’t think so. If that were it, you could’ve skipped town, given yourself a new name, and started over somewhere else. The police would’ve had no real reason to pursue you. Not over a mobster’s death.”
“But the Mafia would have,” Major Ricca pointed out.
“The Mafia thinks she’s innocent,” Ansel said, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Otherwise why employ her to guard Miss May? So, what is it, Vi? What are you hiding?”
The Long Path Home Page 27