The scarlet Lady

by Giada Trebeschi

  «Please.»

  «What might the two art historians have done to be at the centre of such a search?»

  «Mr. Romei seems having helped a Jew to flee. Miss Cantarini is accused of murder for what happened at the sanctuary of Saint Michael.»

  «Wasn’t it self-defence?»

  «For me and the other three witnesses it was. But for Musone and Mr. Morelli clearly not.»

  Silence.

  The two Carabinieri were probably thinking the same as the captain.

  «You did a good job tonight; go and rest. Now the case is in the hands of Mr. Morelli. They will certainly let us know if they still need our help.»

  The two men went away and the captain called the Marshall who was resting in the nearby room.

  «Marshall Fantoni, the command is back in your hands. I will rest a bit on one of the cots in the lodge and then I’ll go back to my military base in Rome. You know where to find me if there is news.»

  It was nearly ten. Laying on the cot the captain closed his eyes and, even if he was still a bit jealous because of what he thought he had seen the night before he still saw Letizia’s beautiful smile.

  Tettamanzi’s farm, 9.55 a.m.

  At that same moment Letizia woke up abruptly.

  She had the impression that something was walking on her legs. She realized with disgust that it was a rat. She cried out loud.

  «It is only a little country mouse, he isn’t going to eat you, not yet at least» Alessandro reassured her.

  «It is disgusting. I hate rats, mice or whatever they are!» answered Letizia double checking that it was not under the covers.

  «Come on, don’t exaggerate. It has been attracted by the smell of food. Luckily the pot is closed and the bread well wrapped in a kitchen cloth. Speaking of food, would you like some?»

  Now that Alessandro was speaking of it Letizia realized she was hungry. It was nearly two days since she had touched any food and now she was eager to eat. In the pot there was pasta with tomato sauce and, even cold, it was the best she had ever had. In the kitchen cloth there was bread and a good piece of pecorino cheese that restored quite some of Alessandro’s good mood.

  After eating, Letizia briefly told her colleague and friend what was written in the part of the manuscript she had already read then, by the light of a little oil lamp, she took the papers out and started reading aloud from the point where she had stopped earlier.

  My secret is a Jewish secret.

  My secret is protected by Christ. And his blood is its purest seal.

  Revenge grew from priest of Salisano’s hate. He never understood my refusal or maybe he believed he could get both, myself and the treasure, I can’t say.

  What I know is that the secret is buried here with me.

  Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, seized me with pleasure of Pierangelo Orsini so strongly that, as you see, it doesn’t yet desert me. Pierangelo never looked at me like an inanimate thing. Without his love I wouldn’t have been closed alive in my own grave, but I would have lived without love, which is a life in death. I was Geppo Colonna’s favourite lover; Pierangelo was one of his knights. Maybe Geppo even loved me, I can’t tell. My only daughter is not his. She is the daughter of my only and true love, the most wonderful present I’ve ever received.

  We were secret lovers for two years, Pierangelo and I, then we plot my kidnapping and came here to Poggio Catino to hide. It was the best time of my life.

  As soon as Geppo got to know of our betrayal he lost his mind and you can see easily where his inhuman cruelty lad.

  Some voices suddenly reached them.

  One was Tettamanzi and with him there were at least two other men and a woman. Alessandro and Letizia tried to understand what they were saying, even though the voices were quite far away and they could only understand a few words.

  It seemed they were speaking about them. They both clearly understood the words fugitives and Poggio Catino sensing that the voices belonged to some of Morelli’s Backshirts. The female voice had to be Tettamanzi’s mother. She confirmed her son words saying that they hadn’t seen any strangers. She would definitely have got to know it; she always knew everything that was happening in the area.

  After a few more minutes the voices were gone. They heard the noise of a motorbike leaving.

  «If they’ve reached here they will probably intensify the search in the area as well. I just hope they won’t find him.»

  «Who?»

  «The Little. They are probably thinking we asked for help from some of my relatives or friends in Sora or Frosinone where I went to school. I’m afraid that while they looking for us they’ll find the Little instead. I hope don Gino hid him well.»

  They stopped speaking. Each of them was silently praying for their friend.

  «Come on – said Alessandro after a while – go on reading. It is totally useless to worry now. We can’t do anything about it anyway. Let’s see if we can at least solve this puzzle which is calling from the past.»

  Letizia drank a glass of water and started reading again.

  From Poggio Catino we wanted to go to Ferrara. Lucrezia was waiting for us there together with our daughter. But as soon as our plan was ready the prelate of Salisano sold us to Geppo.

  One night, with the horses’ hoofs wrapped up in shreds and the doors of Poggio Catino opened by a traitor, Geppo arrived here with his soldiers.

  Hand in hand, my love and I, were presented in front of Geppo and then I passionately kissed Pierangelo on the mouth. A blind rage possessed Geppo who took his sword and pierced my true love’s heart. I got what I wanted: Pierangelo was not going to be tortured.

  I became their entertainment. They cut my hair and tore my crimson clothes. The castle was ruined and I was walled-in alive in my own grave. They left me only my purple petticoat as a shroud.

  I used to dress only in red.

  Red, like blood, passion and love.

  Giulia and my mother used to sleep in black sheets so to intensify their skin’s whiteness; I was using only crimson dresses to show the world I don’t fear anything.

  Clothes red like fire; like God’s mercy and Christ’s blood. Red as the power of kings and the princes of the Church.

  «And now we know why she was wearing a red petticoat – interrupted Alessandro – even if it seems our Lady wants to tell us something else. I don’t know, it’s as if this choice of dressing only in red makes her a kind of simulacrum, the symbol of something I still don’t know.»

  «I wonder if she was also wearing jewels of the same colour. Maybe she only owned rubies, garnets and corals.»

  «Rubies! It’s the connection! You are a genius!» exclaimed Alessandro.

  «Thanks a lot but I have no idea what you are talking about.»

  «In the manuscript she seems to simply tell her story. In reality she constantly hides clues in it. The story is only a pretext. If we are able to read in between the lines we’ll get to the treasure.»

  «Yes, but what about the rubies?»

  «The word ruby, as you well know, comes from the Latin ruber that means the colour red. One of these gems was always set on the front of the crown of Spanish catholic kings in memory of Jesus’ martyrdom. But the ruby also represents power in its most extended symbol and it is also the stone of the cardinal’s rings. Isn’t our scarlet Lady indicating it herself? Red clothes as the power of kings and Church princes. She represents that ruby. She is the seal for the treasure.»

  Actually, it was crazy but it made sense. My secret is protected by Christ. And his blood is its purest seal. Maybe it was really referring to a ruby.

  «Let me see the medallion» said Alessandro.

  Letizia unhooked her necklace and handed it to him. He held it near to the feeble light of the lamp and smiled.

  «Look, I was right. In the central bezel the stone is missing. If you look carefully it seems that in this medallion there is some kind of mechanism hidden that needs the central stone to work. I think th
is is the map to the treasure. To be able to read it we have to find the stone that fits. I bet the missing stone is a ruby.»

  The missing stone. Where could that have been? It definitely wasn’t in the secret chamber with the rest. Where then?

  «If you are right and she is the simulacrum of the ruby, then for sure she had the medallion on as we found it, without the gem. She probably hid the stone somewhere else and then she became herself the image of the missing ruby. In this way it’s clear why she was always wearing red clothes and why as she says, she was not scared. Nobody could have got to the ruby if she didn’t want them to» said Letizia.

  «But in her prison she knew she had to leave some clues to perpetuate her secret and it looks as though she wants us to get it. We only have to understand where she hid the gem which is considered the symbol of fire» concluded Alessandro.

  Tettamanzi’s farm stable, 4.20 p.m.

  Tettamanzi was busy in the stable currying the horse when a beating of wings and a soft coo got all his attention.

  Under the stable’s roof there was a little pigeon house he had taken care of since he was a boy. And now one of its guests was back. The bird was perched on one of the roof beams waiting for him. Tettamanzi had the feeling that the bird was observing him.

  He placed the currycomb in its box and went towards a pot where he kept wheat seeds. He took a handful and offered them with the open hand to the pigeon that first flew on one of his shoulders then onto his arm and finally started pecking. Tettamanzi let the bird eat then he gently took it in his hands and pulled out the message attached by a ring the pigeon had around one leg.

  «Thanks my dear friend. Welcome back home» he said bringing the bird back to the pigeon house.

  It had to be a message from captain de Risis. Long ago he had personally given him a cage with four of his birds in case he had to communicate secretly. He knew Giulio always took them with him. The first two birds had arrived to tell him about Alessandro and Letizia’s arrival. Now there was a new message: Santa Prassede, on frid. for vespers. A farmers’ couple.

  Tettamanzi went back in the house and threw the paper in the fire. His mother was cooking potatoes pie.

  «Prepare more – he said trying a potato – I’ll be out a couple of days. I have to bring the calves to Sora.»

  «My friend Maria lives in Sora. Why don’t you go to visit her? She has three nice daughters…»

  «Mum please, don’t start again.»

  «What did I say? I only said she has nice daughters not yet married. Maybe you’ll like one of them and finally come back with a wife.»

  «Please mum, stop it.»

  «A man in your age has to get a wife. You need a woman in this house, I am getting old. And in any case, I’d like to have grandchildren before I die.»

  «All right, all right. I understand.»

  «You understood but you do what you want anyway. I don’t know why you don’t listen to me. I speak out of experience…»

  He went out of the kitchen while his mother was still speaking. With her it was always the same. She wouldn’t stop it until she had seen him in front of the altar with the priest and a bride.

  Back at the stable another pigeon had arrived. He had brought the same message as the first one.

  As usual, the captain had sent both birds with the same message so that if something had happened to the first one, the message would have a second chance to arrive.

  Tettamanzi finished taking care of the horses, and finished some more jobs at the farm, waiting for his mother to go to Mass before bringing the news to the two art historians hidden in his cellar.

  Poggio Mirteto

  Carabinieri Station, 4.45 p.m.

  The captain was able to rest for a few hours before being waked up by a call from Frosinone. It was Morelli informing him that he hadn’t found Alessandro and Letizia but he had compensated for that by arresting Kornblum.

  «Tonight we’ll bring him to Rome. I’ll wait for you tomorrow morning at nine in my office at the ministry of war. Then we’ll interrogate him. Do you have any good news for me?»

  «None.»

  «Damn. But we’ll find them. We will. See you tomorrow.»

  «Goodbye.»

  De’ Risis didn’t understand why Morelli wanted him to be there to interrogate the Jew. There was something strange. And what’s more, he was sure they had interrogated Kornblum immediately in Frosinone. He thought it was simply because Morelli didn’t trust him and wanted to observe his reactions to certain methods of questioning.

  What Morelli couldn’t guess was that the captain was extremely good at pretending and that he had proved it many times after entering the army. He had to deal with people like him all the time and Morelli was certainly no cleverer than many men the captain had met before, only more wicked.

  He didn’t put down the telephone but directly called another number.

  «Hallo, Mary, is it you? Remind Pietro that tonight for dinner there will be a new guest. He needs new clothes. Yes, don’t worry I’ll be on time. Yes, always the same time. Thanks my dear. Kiss the children for me.»

  One of the Carabinieri approached him with a cup of coffee substitute that de’ Risis was happy to accept.

  «I didn’t know you had children» he commented giving him the cup.

  «I don’t. They are my cousin’s children.»

  After a few minutes the captain left.

  The air was quite cold but de’ Risis breathed in with pleasure. A pleasure that didn’t last long, walking to the car, his thoughts turned again to Morelli and an unpleasant feeling took possession of him.

  He didn’t know exactly why, but he couldn’t help remembering the time when he decided to join the military academy in Modena.

  His father, the count Umberto, colonel of the Royal army, nearly had showed him that he was touched by his decision. Many years had passed but he remembered it as just like the day before. Just as he remembered perfectly when they called him to tell him about the tragedy.

  It was his fifth year in Modena when his cousins carried out their stunt. If he had been in Rodengo he would have convinced them not to risk so much, or maybe he would have joined them. He still could not say which. He felt guilty about this as well.

  The de’ Risis cousins always did everything together. They came from a big family, they were like brothers: twelve cousins, seven girls and five boys all growing up in the same huge family house.

  That day, some young people from the recently established fascist Militia bothered two of his sisters and a cousin coming back from piano lessons. The cousins decided to protest against those gasbags with a peaceful but firm reaction: they borrowed one of the farmer’s donkeys and dressed it up like a fascist complete with black shirt, fascist emblems and fez.

  They walked with the donkey all around the town making many people laugh and some others angry. In front of the Militia headquarters they started calling out loud the names of those who had bothered the girls.

  In a little town everybody knows everybody, the kids go to school together and you become friends from an early age. But when young minds are brainwashed by the politics of hate and racism, people eventually don’t even recognize their class mates.

  That same evening the cousins of the captain had been arrested. They were interrogated by brutal methods nearly all night and one of them had been thrown out of the window. Seeing it, two of the cousins reacted by attacking the Blackshirts. In the end they were also thrown out of the window but before that, they were able to throw two Blackshirts themselves and take three with them. The last cousin, the little one, had been killed by beating under the unperturbed eyes of his old friend who was by then a Squadron Chief[7].

  Nine young men died that night. When dawn arrived the town woke up and saw the corpses motionless in the street. From every alley, corner or plaza a terrible cry of pain arose.

  Giulio de’ Risis got the dreadful news and came home that very evening.

  The Blackshirts were
waiting for him.

  He didn’t like the new Prime Minister who had been installed a couple of years before and he had no respect for the paramilitary organization that was born from the action teams that had marched with the Duce on Rome. For him, a descendant of that nobility who created the history of Italy, the fascist Militia was only an arrogant action group who organized troops of dangerous amateurs who believed themselves to be someone only because of the stupid black shirt they were wearing.

  At his cousins’ funeral he swore to himself he would never serve the Duce. He would become an officer of the Royal army and would have to obey only the King.

  When he closed the door of the car and heard the noise of the motor, the river of sad memories went back into some corner of his soul.

  He never understood why but driving relaxed him. While driving he was able to reorganize his thoughts and feelings and now he really needed it. He had planned the escape of Letizia and Alessandro but maybe it was now the moment to change the plan and improve it. Moreover there was also Kornblum to think about now. If Morelli decided to consign him to the Germans he would be lost.

  Leaving the village the captain smiled: the road to Rome was not very long, but in those couple of driving hours he would definitely develop a good plan to save Letizia.

  Tettamanzi’s farm, 5.40 p. m.

  Tettamanzi knocked in code: twice and then three times. It was the signal they had agreed. Letizia had her medallion back on her neck and Alessandro had just time to hide the secret papers when he entered. They trusted him but the less he knew less he could confess if they discovered him.

  «I brought you something to eat, some fresh water and a bottle of wine. I make it myself with the grapes of the vineyard behind the house. It’s a little bit strong and I am sure it will help you to sleep better. Tomorrow we’ll start at dawn.»