But before the blow could land, the pair stumbled over some unseen obstacle. Pilcher slammed hard, back first, against the bay window. Its weathered wooden framework groaned, then split apart with the pop and clatter of shattering glass. The lamp slipped from Pilcher’s hand and tumbled out, through the void where the window used to be, to the ground below.
Leonard Pilcher found himself dangling in space—his body half-in and half-out of the broken, second-floor window—like a precariously balanced teeter-totter, his head outside, looking up at the stars. The only thing stopping him from plunging to the ground was Joe’s tenuous, one-handed grasp on the straining fabric of his jacket’s breast pocket. Joe’s other hand clung to the wall, the only way to keep himself inside and on his feet.
In a voice that seemed not to recognize he suddenly held the losing hand in this lethal game, Pilcher said, “If I die, my daddy’ll put you in the electric chair.”
“You and daddy can go straight to hell, Pilcher.”
There was a sharp crack as the lower sash gave way. The delicate balance was upset—Pilcher’s lower body began to slide out of the window opening. His hands grasped for Joe’s arm, but managed to clutch only the thin fabric of a pajama sleeve, which immediately tore away, a lifeline secured to nothing. As if in sympathy with Joe’s torn sleeve, the breast pocket on Pilcher’s jacket—the only anchor left in this roiling storm—popped a thread, then another—and in a swift chain reaction of failed stitching, the pocket tore free of the jacket…
And Leonard Pilcher fell, head first, 20 feet to the ground below. The muted thud of impact was masked by the loud, sickening crack of his neck breaking.
Then, for a few moments, the street was deathly quiet again.
Lights were coming on in the adjacent, closely-spaced homes. Doors opened, and half a dozen neighbors rushed to the Gelardi front lawn. They stood, silent and open-mouthed, in a circle around this broken, motionless stranger. Their uncomprehending eyes panned back and forth between the wheezing body lying before them and the stark face of their neighbor, Joe, standing in the ragged hole that used to be an upstairs window.
A siren wailed in the distance. It seemed to be getting louder and closer.
Pilcher’s body was paralyzed and he found it difficult to speak; his mouth was filling with blood. His glazed eyes cast a final, contemptuous glare at the people looming over him. Then, he closed those eyes and, gurgling like a man underwater, said, “Shit…Witnesses.”
Rattling, choking sounds—frightening to listen to—escaped his immobilized body. Congressman Leonard Pilcher was gagging on his own blood. The bystanders stepped back as those sounds quickly rose to a frightening crescendo, then just as quickly diminished in intensity and frequency until they seemed to cease. But there was one last rattle—and when it was finished, Leonard Pilcher was dead.
Chapter Ninety-Four
The golden summer of 1960 would soon be drawing to a close in Malmö. The entire city still seemed to be in vibrant celebration of the warm weather, but any celebration had its boundaries. Within the gates of the Jewish cemetery on Malmö’s outskirts, the somber mood knew no season.
Amidst lush shade trees, the headstones in neat rows were all topped with the Star of David. Before one such headstone, a rabbi offered a blessing. The headstone bore the inscription:
DAVID LINKER
SERGEANT, USAAF
FEBRUARY 6, 1926—SEPTEMBER 25, 1944
Standing next to the rabbi were David Linker’s parents, Isaac and Sarah Linker. They were finally able to make the trip to their son’s grave, courtesy of CBS News. It had been a small price for the network to pay in exchange for the Linker’s on-air interview following Leonard Pilcher’s exposure and downfall.
Behind Isaac and Sarah, a respectful distance away, stood Joe Gelardi and Pola Nilsson-MacLeish. For them, their coincidental trip to Sweden was a holiday with their children.
Isaac and Sarah clung to each other during the rabbi’s prayers, weeping gently. When the rabbi was finished, he whispered a few kind words to the grieving parents, then bid them goodbye. Isaac and Sarah lingered before the grave, still clinging to each other. They stepped forward, each laying a hand on the headstone, speaking soft words to their son Joe and Pola could not hear. Then, still holding her tightly, Isaac Linker escorted his wife from the gravesite.
As they walked—slowly, a bit unsteadily—Isaac turned to give Joe and Pola a harsh look that seemed a silent accusation. Sarah caught him doing it; she pulled him to a stop and said a few words—soft, reproachful words—to her husband. Joe and Pola could only make out one of Sarah Linker’s sentences, a simple demand: Go to them!
Reluctantly, Isaac released the grasp on his wife and approached Joe and Pola. He stopped a few feet from them, took a moment to compose his thoughts, then directed them to Pola with a stern face. “Back in 1944, you arranged this for my son?”
Neither Pola nor Joe could determine if this question foreshadowed praise or condemnation, but they feared it was the latter. “Yes, Mr. Linker,” Pola replied. “I was responsible for arranging the burial.”
While Isaac Linker took a few more moments to compose his thoughts, his stern expression began to soften and his eyes moistened. His voice quavered as he spoke. “The rabbi told us that everything was done properly according to Jewish law.” He stopped to dab at his eyes. “My wife and I…we want to thank you. Thank you both, very much.”
Isaac extended his hand. Joe took it first for a brief handshake. When Pola extended her hand, Isaac took it tenderly in both of his and kissed it.
Chapter Ninety-Five
After the graveside ceremony for David Linker, Joe and Pola wandered lazily back to the heart of Malmö. It had been a quiet and reflective walk through cobblestone streets that Joe had trouble recognizing; much had changed in 16 years. New, modern buildings were now interspersed among the old buildings he remembered. There were just two tasks left to accomplish before returning to the States. The first was to corral their precocious, adventurous teenagers.
Diane and Roddy, Pola’s 15-year-old son, had spent the morning at Ribersborg beach, swimming in Öresund Sound. Joe had permitted the outing on the strict condition that they stay away from the bath house, with its nude bathing. Pola had found it hysterically funny when he said to her, “I won’t have our kids running around staring at each other’s bare asses.”
When Pola finally stopped laughing, she said, “Oh, Joseph, that’s just so…American. Surely you remember the bath house is segregated? And don’t you realize Diane and Roddy consider themselves family now? Siblings would rather die than look at each other’s bare asses.”
The teenagers were right where they promised to be, at the airline ticket office. When their parents arrived at the appointed, mid-afternoon meeting time, they were in animated conversation, leafing through a book on Swedish tourist sites. Diane, full of excitement, blurted an urgent question. “Daddy, can Roddy and I go see a film? Right now?”
Joe answered with a question of his own, expressing his usual amount of fatherly concern. “What’s playing?”
Proud to show off her rapidly growing Swedish vocabulary, Diane replied, “Misen Son Rot.”
Joe frowned; he did not understand a word of what she said. Roddy stepped in to translate. “The Mouse That Roared, sir.” His flawless English shared his mother’s Scottish accent.
Until this moment, Pola had merely watched this scene with an amused smile. She turned to Diane and said, “But honey, it’ll be in Swedish, you know.”
Diane’s enthusiasm was not to be deterred. “That’s okay,” she replied. “Roddy can translate for me. If I need help, that is.”
Roddy chipped in an endorsement of his soon-to-be stepsister. “She’s a very fast learner.”
Joe and Pola exchanged a parental nod of approval and the teenagers, beaming with delight, streaked for the door. “Be back at the hotel by 1900 hours, you two,” Pola called after them. “We have to pack tonight…Early flight tomorr
ow.”
“Doctor Gelardi,” the ticket agent called from behind her desk. “We have your tickets all ready.”
Joe took the tickets as Pola chatted amiably in Swedish with the ticket agent. Everything seemed to be in order. There were four tickets, one for Joe, Pola, Diane, and Roddy. The itineraries were the same on each ticket: Malmö—London—Boston.
Now there was just one more thing to do before going home.
A beautiful sunset had begun to cast its orange glow across Malmö as Joe and Pola emerged from the staircase. They were at the top of the bell tower once again, the same tower from which they witnessed David Linker’s murder. The few pigeons perched on the deck’s railing were unperturbed; they did not fly away as the humans approached the railing.
The lovers were silent for a few minutes, basking in the beautiful view and evening breeze. The city below them seemed to be gilded. “Didn’t I tell you it was beautiful?” Pola asked.
Clinging to each other tightly, they turned as one to look down at the police barracks roof. It looked exactly the same as the last time they had seen it, with one big exception. This time, it was devoid of people.
They found no words to say, but they both knew they were sharing the same somber reflection: we did wrong…we fixed it the best we could.
Almost in unison, they both took deep breaths and turned to face the sunset once again. Joe’s lips found Pola’s and they kissed tenderly. He nodded toward the bells hanging motionless and silent, their slack lanyards swaying easily in the breeze. He sounded a bit concerned when he asked, “What time did you say they go off?”
Before Pola could answer, the ropes tightened and jerked—and the bells began to swing. The pigeons took flight; the lovers clamped their hands over their ears, their laughter drowned out by the thunderous pealing.
Joe could read the answer to his question in Pola’s lips. Now! she was saying, her eyes bright and happy, but her voice stood no chance against the power of the bells.
And when the tolling of the bells was finally done, their hands found each other once again. As they embraced, a solitary pigeon feather that had settled on the railing was swept up by the breeze and floated downward, gently downward, to the cobblestone street below.
###
About The Author
History is a parade of chance outcomes, influenced by any number of natural forces and human whims. As a lifelong student of history and lover of alternative historical fiction, William Peter Grasso’s novels explore the concept change one thing…and watch what happens. The results are works of fiction in which the actual people and historical events are weaved into a seamless and entertaining narrative with the imagined.
Focusing on the WW2 era, Grasso’s novels have spent several years in the Amazon Top 100 for Alternative History and War.
Retired from the aircraft maintenance industry, Grasso is a veteran of the US Army and served in Operation Desert Storm as a flight crew member with the Civil Reserve Air Fleet (CRAF). These days, he confines his aviation activities to building and flying radio-controlled model aircraft.
Contact the Author Online:
Email: William Peter Grasso
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https://www.facebook.com/AuthorWilliamPeterGrasso
More Novels by William Peter Grasso
Moon Above, Moon Below
A Moon Brothers WW2 Adventure
France, August 1944. In this alternate history WW2 adventure, American and British forces struggle to trap and destroy the still-potent German armies defending Normandy. But the Allies face another formidable obstacle of their own making: a seething rivalry between generals leads to a high-level disregard for orders that puts the entire campaign in the Falaise Pocket at risk of devastating failure—or spectacular success. That campaign unfolds through the eyes of two American brothers—one an idealistic pilot, the other a fatalistic tanker—as they plunge headlong into the confusion and indiscriminant slaughter of war.
Operation Fishwrapper
Book 5
Jock Miles WW2 Adventure Series
June 1944: A recon flight is shot down over the Japanese-held island of Biak, soon to be the next jump in MacArthur’s leapfrogging across New Guinea. Major Jock Miles, US Army—the crashed plane’s intelligence officer—must lead the handful of survivors to safety. It’s a tall order for a man barely recovered from a near-crippling leg wound. Gaining the grudging help of a Dutch planter who has evaded the Japanese since the war began, Jock discovers just how little MacArthur’s staff knows about the terrain and defenses of the island they’re about to invade.
The American invasion of Biak promptly bogs down, and the GIs rename the debacle Operation Fishwrapper, a joking reference to their worthless maps. The infantry battalion Jock once led quickly suffers the back-to-back deaths of two commanders, so he steps into the job once again, ignoring the growing difficulties with his leg. When his Aussie wife Jillian tracks down the refugee mapmaker who can refine those fishwrappers into something of military value, the tide of battle finally turns in favor of the Americans. But for Jock, the victory imparts a life-changing blow.
Operation Blind Spot
Book 4
Jock Miles WW2 Adventure Series
After surviving a deadly plane crash, Jock Miles is handed a new mission: neutralize a mountaintop observation post on Japanese-held Manus Island so MacArthur’s invasion fleet en route to Hollandia, New Guinea, can arrive undetected. Jock’s team seizes and holds the observation post with the help of a clever deception. But when they learn of a POW camp deep in the island’s treacherous jungle, it opens old wounds for Jock and his men: the disappearance—and presumed death—of Jillian Forbes at Buna a year before. There’s only one risky way to find out if she’s a prisoner there…and doing so puts their entire mission in serious jeopardy.
Operation Easy Street
Book 3
Jock Miles WW2 Adventure Series
Port Moresby was bad. Buna was worse.
The WW2 alternative history adventure of Jock Miles continues as MacArthur orders American and Australian forces to seize Buna in Papua New Guinea. Once again, the Allied high command underestimates the Japanese defenders, plunging Jock and his men into a battle they’re not equipped to win. Worse, jungle diseases, treacherous terrain, and the tactical fantasies of deluded generals become adversaries every bit as deadly as the Japanese. Sick, exhausted, and outgunned, Jock’s battalion is ordered to spearhead an amphibious assault against the well-entrenched enemy. It’s a suicide mission—but with ingenious help from an unexpected source, there might be a way to avoid the certain slaughter and take Buna. For Jock, though, victory comes at a dreadful price.
Operation Long Jump
Book 2
Jock Miles WW2 Adventure Series
Alternative history takes center stage as Operation Long Jump, the second book in the Jock Miles World War 2 adventure series, plunges us into the horrors of combat in the rainforests of Papua New Guinea. As a prelude to the Allied invasion, Jock Miles and his men seize the Japanese observation post on the mountain overlooking Port Moresby. The main invasion that follows quickly degenerates to a bloody stalemate, as the inexperienced, demoralized, and poorly led GIs struggle against the stubborn enemy.
Seeking a way to crack the impenetrable Japanese defenses, infantry officer Jock finds himself in a new role—aerial observer. He’s teamed with rookie pilot John Worth, in a prequel to his role as hero of Grasso’s East Wind Returns. Together, they struggle to expose the Japanese defenses—while highly exposed themselves—in their slow and vulnerable spotter plane. The enemy is not the only thing troubling Jock: his Australian lover, Jillian Forbes, has found a new and dangerous way to contribute to the war effort.
Long Walk to the Sun
Book 1
Jock Miles WW2 Adventure Series
In this alternate history adventure set in WW2’s early days, a crippled US military struggles to defend vulnerable Australia ag
ainst the unstoppable Japanese forces. When a Japanese regiment lands on Australia’s desolate and undefended Cape York Peninsula, Jock Miles, a US Army captain disgraced despite heroic actions at Pearl Harbor, is ordered to locate the enemy’s elusive command post.
Conceived in politics rather than sound tactics, the futile mission is a “show of faith” by the American war leaders meant to do little more than bolster their flagging Australian ally. For Jock Miles and the men of his patrol, it’s a death sentence: their enemy is superior in men, material, firepower, and combat experience. Even if the Japanese don’t kill them, the vast distances they must cover on foot in the treacherous natural realm of Cape York just might. When Jock joins forces with Jillian Forbes, an indomitable woman with her own checkered past who refused to evacuate in the face of the Japanese threat, the dim prospects of the Allied war effort begin to brighten in surprising ways.
Unpunished
Congressman. Presidential candidate. Murderer. Leonard Pilcher is all of these things.
As an American pilot interned in Sweden during WWII, he kills one of his own crewmen and gets away with it. Two people have witnessed the murder—American airman Joe Gelardi and his secret Swedish lover, Pola Nilsson-MacLeish—but they cannot speak out without paying a devastating price. Tormented by their guilt and separated by a vast ocean after the war, Joe and Pola maintain the silence that haunts them both...until 1960, when Congressman Pilcher’s campaign for his party’s nomination for president gains momentum. As he dons the guise of war hero, one female reporter, anxious to break into the “boy’s club” of TV news, fights to uncover the truth against the far-reaching power of the Pilcher family’s wealth, power that can do any wrong it chooses—even kill—and remain unpunished. Just as the nomination seems within Pilcher’s grasp, Pola reappears to enlist Joe’s help in finally exposing Pilcher for the criminal he really is. As the passion of their wartime romance rekindles, they must struggle to bring Pilcher down before becoming his next victims.
Unpunished Page 34