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To my parents. And theirs.
Giada Trebeschi
The scarlet
Lady
Novel
Oakmond Publishing
Cover illustration: Paolo Avalle
All rights reserved.
Original title: La Dama Rossa
Original language: Italian
Translation by: Giada Trebeschi
Chosen for you by: The Raven
ISBN 978-3-96207-040-3
© 2017 Oakmond Publishing GmbH & Co. KG
Günzburg - Deutschland
www.oakmond-publishing.com
Released in English language: 21st July 2017
Wine pairing
What’s divine in wine?
Man’s hand.
Wine, symbol of divinity and blood, of blessing and life, isn’t just born from grapes but from the hard work and know-how of the people producing it.
From the very beginning, from Egyptians to Greeks, from the Old Testament to the Gospel, from Persians to ancient Rome, from medieval monks to Omar Khayyam, wine has been symbol of both humanity and divinity.
Siduri, the girl making wine in the Sumer tradition is a semi-Goddess who lives in a world in between earth and sky. But aren’t poets and artists living in that same place?
It is only technique knowledge, perseverance, creativity and hard work that can produce good wines. It’s the same for art and literature.
For this reason, at Oakmond publishing we decided to pair all our books to wine, two different products sure, but both to be tasted with senses and intellect, both divine pleasures created by men’s talent and knowledge.
With The scarlet Lady we suggest
to pair a Barbera d’Asti.
Main Characters
Letizia Cantarini: art historian, chief-in-charge of the restoration works at palazzo Biraghi
Giulio de’ Risis: Royal Army captain
Alessandro Romei: called the Great, medieval art historian
Alessandro Kornblum: called the Little, modern art historian
Mrs. Rosa: owner of the hotel in Poggio Catino (Rieti)
Ugo Morelli: consul of Voluntary Militia for National Security (Blackshirts)
Luca Giacoboni: chief maniple (Blackshirts)
Gennaro Boriello: adjutant (Blackshirts)
Antonio Musone: centurion (Blackshirts)
Saverio Tucci: coroner
Mario Tettamanzi: cowboy from the Agro Pontino
Cesare: carriage coach, ex university professor
Vittorio: squadron chief (Blackshirts)
Sarah e Isaac Kornblum: parents of Alessandro the Little
Dolores: brothel-keeper
Messalina: prostitute in Dolores’ brothel
Mary de’ Risis: Giulio de’ Risis cousin
Pietro: Mary de’ Risis husband, administrative official at the War ministry in Rome
30th November 1938
Poggio Catino (Rieti), hotel “Da Rosa”, 6.00 p.m.
The evening shadows enveloped the room as if the window had suddenly been blinded with a heavy black curtain. Letizia let the papers that fascinated her fall on the bed. She hadn’t noticed the time passing, and only now she felt cold, her body lightly shivering.
She picked up the shawl that lay abandoned on the armchair and wrapped it around her. She neared the window rubbing her ice-cold hands.
The sky was livid and crossed by purple clouds.
«It will soon rain» she thought absent-mindedly.
Heavy steps invaded the courtyard’s gravel. She quickly looked in the direction of the hotel entrance. She had already been living there for a few weeks since she had been entrusted with the restoration works of palazzo Biraghi in Poggio Catino.
Men in uniform entered the hotel.
She didn’t like soldiers.
She abruptly closed the curtain and went towards the bathroom: it was nearly time to go downstairs for dinner.
Someone knocked.
She was frightened and instinctively hid the papers she had been studying in the wardrobe under her clothes; she quickly looked at herself in the mirror adjusting her dark wavy fashionably styled hair and, armed with an innocent smile, she went to open the door.
«Good evening Miss Cantarini, I’m captain Giulio de’ Risis.»
She had to admit that the man who was offering her his hand was certainly appealing, even though he was a soldier.
«The consul Morelli of the Militia for National Security[1] would like to ask you some questions. Would you please follow me to the living room downstairs? There we won’t be disturbed.»
Letizia tightened her shawl around her shoulders and followed the captain without saying a word. At the end of the stairs she saw the owner of the hotel, Mrs. Rosa who looked quite nervous. She hoped it was only her imagination.
In the living room were waiting two very well dressed civilians with two soldiers who, as soon as Letizia entered, rushed over to the door. The gesture alarmed her.
One of the civilians walked in her direction.
«I finally have the pleasure of getting to know you, Miss Cantarini, I’ve heard so much about you, but I didn’t imagine you were so young.»
The man was tall, thin, grey-haired and spoke in an affectedly irritating tone. He was all smiles.
Letizia didn’t like him at all.
Ever since she was a little girl, she had shown an extraordinary ability to understand people at first sight: she seldom made a mistake. It seemed as if she was equipped with a sort of device that, in the same way as the cat’s whiskers, allowed her to understand what the others were not able to guess.
She perceived something bad in this man. He wasn’t particularly distasteful but his turbid and elusive glance contradicted his attempts to show cordiality.
«My name is Ugo Morelli, consul[2] of the Milizia. You have previously met our captain, and this is my assistant, the chief maniple[3] Luca Giacoboni – he said pointing to the other civilian, a little stocky man who had to be in his fifties and was concentrating on stubbing his cigarette out – I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour, but it is a matter of great importance.»
Instinctively Letizia took a step in the direction of the captain who, unlike Morelli, had immediately inspired her trust.
«Please, don’t hesitate to tell me how I can help you, Mr. Morelli» she said.
«Captain, your men.»
The military man nodded and the two soldiers left the room closing the door behind them.
«Now that we are among friends we can speak freely. It has been weeks since you started working here, and your superior told me that a few days ago, together with Vincenzo Biraghi, the owner of the palazzo, you witnessed an extraordinary discovery. Did you?» started Morelli.
«Indeed. We discovered a room within the palazzo’s main bedroom. It can probably be dated to at the end of XV century.»
«A secret room then.»
«If you want to define it so. But I would rather say a prison.»
«A prison?»
«The entrance was hidden by a wall. In this little secret room we found a chained skeleton.»
«A prisoner punished with a terrible death… who could that have been? And what could this person have done to undergo such punishment?»
«I am working on it.»
Morelli looked at her as an inquisitor would have done. She shuddered.
«From now on, my dear, you must inform me of any new discovery, of every little detail. The highest officials
are extremely interested in your studies. I hope you’ll be, let’s say, collaborative. And you will be collaborative this time, even if I know very well you had problems in the past with it, hadn’t you, my dear?»
Why the hell was someone in the high-ranks interested in her work? Who exactly was this Morelli? How unbearable was his my dear! She had never given him permission to address her that way. It was outrageous. What right did he have to order her to share her results with that scum? They were the same Blackshirts who had brutally killed her dad who was guilty of not being collaborative.
«I would be very sorry if a pretty and intelligent young woman like you were to repeat the same mistakes as her father – went on Morelli – I hope you have learnt something from that terrible experience. The mistakes of others always teach us something, don’t you agree, my dear?»
Letizia didn’t utter a word.
She was staring at Morelli trying not to show him any emotion.
«Starting from tomorrow morning our captain and his men will be sharing your work and they will inform us of everything, in the unlucky case you forget to do it. I’ve also heard that, at the moment, you are the only person who has entered the room. Did you find or see something else besides the skeleton? And another question, if I may, why didn’t you let anybody else enter?»
«My work, Mr. Morelli, is like that of a detective. If someone changes even one little detail of the crime scene then it would be more difficult to find the guilty one, right? This is why everything has to stay as it has been found, at least for the moment. After I have finished all the necessary surveys I will let the rest of the team in.»
«Someone says there were some papers that now seem to have disappeared…»
«The opening is still very small and not being directly in front of the place where I found the papers, I doubt someone from outside the room could have noticed anything else apart from the skeleton. In any case, there were a couple of bowls, writing material and three sheets. Two of them were white, on the third one a sonnet is written, but they are still in their place. You will forgive me if I ask, but why are you so interested in this discovery?»
«Pure curiosity and love for archaeological research. Go on with your work without worrying about us. The important thing is that you keep us informed. My dear, it has been a pleasure to get to know you. We’ll meet soon again. Captain, are we going?» Morelli walked resolutely to the door and his assistant Giacoboni murmured a barely audible good evening.
«See you tomorrow, Miss Cantarini – said the captain with a charming smile – I will try not to hinder your work» he added before following the two men out of the room.
The captain was not speaking like a fascist. Luckily.
She stood still until she heard their footsteps leaving the hotel then she approached the fireplace trying to warm up again. Staring at the shining flames she concentrated on the hidden papers. It was her discovery and she had to be the first one to study them. This time the results of her work would be published under her name, not the name of someone else as she had already experienced at the beginning of her career in university. It had been her essay on the painters from Bologna, the brothers Annibale, Ludovico and Agostino Carracci.
Thinking back she only felt anger.
She remembered perfectly the moment when she had found on professor Boriello’s table the book that he had received as a present. It was an essay collection on the Emilia Romagna painters from the end of the XVI century and, in between these essays, there was the one she had written signed by an old friend of her professor, a man called Musone, not by her! What a petty thing! She swore to herself that it would never happen again: she was not going to turn over the papers she had found with the skeleton to anyone, whatever was written on it, whoever in the higher-ranks was interested in her researches.
She remembered that in the days after the discovery something strange had happened. She hadn’t believed it important at first but part of her team had been substituted and, this was the worst part, she had been unable to find her notebook anymore. Maybe it was only a coincidence. Maybe not. In any case, she thanked her instinctive prudence which had lead her, from the very first moment, to hide the papers immediately without speaking about it to anyone. Because she knew someone could have looked into the opening and noticed the writing material, she had decided to leave two white papers there as well as the one with a strange sonnet written on it.
It had been a good decision.
«Miss Letizia, is everything all right?» asked a female voice.
«Yes, Mrs. Rosa, thanks. Everything is fine» she answered distracted from her thoughts.
The hotel owner, a glowing woman with mottled grey hair gathered in a low chignon, smiled and, collecting the ashtray to empty, announced that dinner was going to be served in ten minutes.
Letizia spent a few more minutes watching the fire then went into the dining room. It was not very full; the village highlights were the castle and some nice walks in the woods but certainly not at the end of November. In that period, the only hotel guests were Letizia, her team and, for the first time that very night, two new clients.
Letizia’s job was uncommon for a woman and many viewed her with suspicion. She was not an angel of the hearth even if she didn’t exclude the possibility of becoming one, one day. She loved archaeology and art history and after a short teaching experience she started working together with the very well-known professor Nicola Argentini, the art historian initially designated to lead the restoration at the noble palazzo in Poggio Catino.
His esteem for Letizia was so strong that when he had to leave because of his bad health, he left her as chief-in-charge of the restoration works.
Every evening she had dinner with two colleagues both called Alessandro. To distinguish them she used the nick names the Great and the Little because of their appearance. The first one was as big as a mountain, nearly two meters tall, in love with good wine and food, cheerful, ironic and specializing in medieval history of art. Working with him was a real pleasure. The other one was, at the contrary, not very tall, thin and delicate but a tireless worker specializing in modern art. Letizia genuinely appreciated his clear mind, his extraordinary breadth of culture and his absolute dedication.
She sat at the table where Alessandro the Great was already waiting.
The Little was not there.
«Do you know where the Little is?» she asked to her friend.
«No idea. Probably preparing one of his concoctions to cure cold, headache, colitis or whatever else he has this time.»
«Don’t make fun of his health. He is not like you.»
Mrs. Rosa brought a tureen and put it on the table whispering mysteriously «I’ll be back soon» before going to serve the two new clients.
Letizia couldn’t help observing them.
She had never seen them before and they didn’t seem to be from the area. Both in their fifties, they were eating and whispering to one another. The oldest one was familiar. He had thick glasses and a ridiculous comb over attempting to cover his baldness. He reminded her of a person she would never want to meet in her life again. She told herself it was only a strange affinity and she looked back to Alessandro who was busy with the soup-tureen.
A few minutes later Mrs. Rosa returned; from the smirk on her face, Letizia understood that her curiosity about the new clients was soon to be satisfied.
«Tonight chickpea soup, you like it, right?» Mrs. Rosa said loudly.
Then she came neared and whispered: «Those two are wearing plain clothes now, but they are also members of the fascist Militia. They are here for you, so try to ignore them.»
She raised her voice again.
«I prepared it as you like, Mr. Alessandro. Here, I will serve it immediately. Would you like another sip of wine?»
The woman went to the kitchen and, coming back with a bottle, she left also a note on the table. Letizia immediately recognized the Little’s handwriting. Alessandro pulled his notebook out of h
is jacket and slipped the paper into it.
«Letizia, look, this is the result of my observations. I tried to make a scheme out of it» said Alessandro handing the notebook over.
Hodie vesperi cum vobis non cenabo. Dicite Rosae me non valere: apud me manebo. Magna quercu media nocte. Facite ut nemo vos sequatur was written on the note.
The Little was informing them that he was not going to have dinner and he asked them to tell Mrs. Rosa that he was not feeling well. At the same time he made them an appointment for midnight at the big oak, begging his colleagues to be sure not to be followed.
«I think the results are very interesting, but we still have to work on it. Tomorrow we’ll discuss how» answered Letizia trying to disguise all the anxiety that the message created.
Mrs. Rosa was approaching. Alessandro smiled and told her that his friend was not feeling well and that he wouldn’t be joining them for dinner.
«That delicate young man! He should do something for his health, he always has some illness.»
«Imaginary, Mrs. Rosa, imaginary! Since I have known him he has had all the illnesses of the medical encyclopaedia.»
The woman laughed loudly, left the bread basket and went back into the kitchen.
The two men of the Militia were observing them constantly. Alessandro and Letizia went on eating and chatting about the researches at the castle in technical language that only a few would have been able to understand. In any case, there was no doubt that Letizia was annoyed by that type. He reminded her one of the most disgusting people she had ever met and now he shamelessly turned to stare at her again.
As soon as they finished eating Letizia stated in a fairly loud voice so that everyone could hear her, that she was very tired and she just wanted to go back in her room to sleep. Leaving the dining room she had to pass near the table of the two new guests. They wished her a ridiculously gallant a good night.
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