«Aren’t we safe here?» asked Letizia.
«At the moment yes, but if Giulio wants you to move soon he has some good reason.»
He called him by name, noticed Letizia. They had to be friends. Probably they had known each other for many years and she was sure Tettamanzi could have told her many things about the charming captain. It wasn’t that one the right moment but maybe the day after, during the trip she might dare to ask him something.
«Where are we going?» asked Alessandro.
«To Rome.»
«Rome? But it is full of police there! A lot of patrols and maybe they’ll have already organized check points!» exclaimed Letizia.
«If Giulio has decided that way it means that we’ll do it whatever your opinion is. I’ll pick you tomorrow morning around five. Now, try to rest» answered Tettamanzi putting the wine near his guests.
He went away closing the door and hiding it behind the barrels without saying another word.
«I guess we should eat something» said Alessandro trying to get back some of his usual good mood.
«I’m not hungry» answered Letizia sullenly.
«We have to be fit tomorrow. We’ll have a long day. Don’t be childish or is your plan to faint in the captain’s arms?» joked Alessandro.
«Pass me the bread… and don’t make fun of me» answered Letizia with a smile.
As always food put Alessandro in a good mood. He was convinced that with his belly full he was thinking much better and the ruby wine he drank and enjoyed showed him a light on the mystery.
«I think I understood!» he said suddenly.
«What?»
«The sonnet is part of the map.»
«What do you mean?»
«That the sonnet is part of the map! Wait – he answered taking out his notebook where he wrote it down – Here. It says: If I were Pope, I’d been my father / Who the red Fire from my mother stole. The red Fire has to be the ruby missing on the medallion.»
«So what?»
«It goes on like this: If I were emperor, you know what I’d do? / I’d give a truce to my Jewish ancestors. Now it is quite clear.»
«I am sorry. I don’t get it.»
«If the red Fire is the ruby, it has been stolen by our scarlet Lady’s father from her mother. A ruby that was on the medallion originally but was later used for something else, a ring probably.»
«A ring? How can you be so sure?»
«Because the scarlet Lady says that her father was the pope! He probably used the stone for his cardinal’s ring. She says it herself. Moreover in the first verse of the last tercet she even tells us her name: If I were of the Abrabanel, as in fact I am. If her father was the pope, her Jewish ancestors have to be from her mother’s side: a Jewish woman belonging to the Abrabanel family.»
«Abrabanel. The name doesn’t tell me anything.»
«Leave the name for a moment. The most interesting thing is who her father was. She clearly says she is the daughter of the pope. Which one? Isn’t she writing about a certain Vannozza who became the lover of her father after her mother?»
«Vannozza Cattanei! One of the most well- known lovers of pope Alexander VI, the Borgia!»
«And mother of a certain Lucrezia – concluded Alessandro – who our Lady quotes in her papers.»
«I can’t believe it! The scarlet lady wrote everything I needed to know and I didn’t see it!»
«Sometimes if you want to make something go unnoticed, the best way is to put it in full light. Our Lady was the daughter of a pope and a Jewish woman. She had to have an interesting childhood» commented Alessandro eating another piece of cheese with great enjoyment.
Many things now made sense.
«It is clear now. Our Lady and her lover wanted to flee to Ferrara to Lucrezia Borgia who, if she was living there, had to be already married with Alfonso I d’Este. So we are some few years later than we thought at the beginning. Let’s say in between 1510 and 1519 when Lucrezia dies giving birth to her sixth daughter.»
«And Giulia, the woman sleeping in black sheets has to be Giulia Farnese: Alexander VI’s favourite.»
«As art historians we always wondered who the three women who posed for Raffaello’s Three Graces were. Now we know it. I just hope we will be able to tell it to the rest of the world as well, soon or later» said Letizia.
Alessandro poured two full wine glasses and proposed a toast.
«To our scarlet Lady! A passionate and untamed woman who created some little problems for us but who pushes us towards extraordinary discovers and a great treasure!»
The glasses jingled and they drank. Letizia thought about the treasure and she couldn’t help thinking that the scarlet Lady had already made her find the most important one: Giulio de’ Risis.
They finished their dinner and talked a little more. They would have liked to read a bit more in the secret papers but the wine, even if it untied their tongues, confused their thoughts and slowly a powerful tiredness overcame them.
Rome, Royal army base “Macao”, 7.00 p.m.
While Letizia was falling asleep the captain arrived in Rome. It was not too late and the evening was not cold. As usual he parked in the service area in front of the officers’ quarters in the army base where he was sent on his first arrival in the capital.
He had been sent to the Macao base in the district called Castro Pretorio. It was still called that way because of the ancient Praetorians base built there by order of the emperor Tiberio in 23 a. C. The Jesuits later established themselves in that same area in XVII century after coming back from the missions in Asia, in memory of which they called the area Macao. Later, during the second half of the XIX century the castrum went back to its original function housing first papal soldiers and then the Royal ones.
The captain didn’t dislike it. He was there, being a soldier exactly in the same place where two thousand years ago braver and stronger men soldiered as well. And when he was forced to attend to training or some military parade, he could easily escape it imagining those ancient Romans. The fascination for the place was so strong that he was almost able to hear the clanging of ancient daggers instead of the hated fascist slogans.
Walking to his billet he met a couple of colleagues and stopped a few moments to chat before entering the little apartment they had assigned him, he switched on the light on his working table. Everyone at the base knew that he often worked or read till very late and the light in his room was clearly visible from the service area.
He washed, changed his shirt and put on a grey suit, the hat, a dark coat and a pair of fine gloves. Then he left the place leaving the light on and being very careful not to meet anyone. He walked to the station in the direction of the house of his friend Cesare.
Cesare was a former university professor of legal history who, after losing his job and all his belongings because of his anti-fascist ideas, started working as a coachman transporting goods rather than people.
Cesare had adapted an old shoemaker’s workshop into a house with a little stable at the front. He used to say that it was a temporary accommodation but he had already been living there for quite some years together with his only true friend: Don, his horse.
When the captain knocked on his door Cesare was finishing supper.
«Who is it?» he asked in the unfriendly tone of those that don’t want to be disturbed.
«An old friend» answered the captain.
«Giulio! – he exclaimed opening the door – what the hell are you doing here at this time?.»
«I need your help – answered the captain – They captured a German Jew and it looks like they want to send him back to Germany. He is an art historian and if he is repatriate…»
«Where is he now?»
«At the Ministry of War.»
«What? Are you sure?»
«Yes.»
«He has to be significant if they’re keeping him there.»
«Not really. They just want to keep a low profile. They think he knows extremel
y important information which they need to know before sending him back to Germany.»
«It is difficult if not impossible to get in there without being noticed.»
«I have a safe contact there. He is a high administrative official at the ministry of war. He’s waiting for us.»
Cesare didn’t waste time. He left his supper, took Don and attached him to the coach left, like every other evening, in front of the entrance door. The captain helped him to load a couple of old barrels and sat near him. Don started slowly but he was a good horse: it didn’t take long before they arrived.
De’ Risis got off in a side street and walked to one of the building’s side entrances. Pietro, his cousin’s husband was waiting for him with a bundle of clean clothes. Cesare loaded the bundle and stopped not far away, he lighted a cigarette and waited.
«They shut him in one of the interrogation rooms. I really don’t understand why they took him here and not at the Carabinieri station or at the Militia headquarters» whispered Pietro entering the ministry followed by the captain.
«They don’t want it to be official. They just want the information before sending him back to Germany. No publicity, you know.»
«But, for us it is much better like this. There are only two Blackshirts on watch. It shouldn’t be too difficult to free him.»
Pietro took a little glass bottle and two handkerchiefs from his pocket.
«Here is enough chloroform to put both guards to sleep. Don’t ask how I got it.»
Pietro crossed the room and very carefully opened the door that gave access to the corridor where the two Blackshirts were on watch.
«They are smoking and they are not far away. It shouldn’t be a problem to get near them without being noticed. I’ll take the one on the left, I leave the bigger one to you» he said smiling.
They were both wearing gloves and held their breath while preparing the handkerchiefs with the chloroform. Then they slipped into the corridor.
The two Blackshirts didn’t hear them coming and the handkerchiefs were under their noses in an instant. They didn’t even have the time to shout before falling on the floor unconscious.
Pietro extinguished the cigarettes the two men dropped, put the handkerchiefs into a little bag that disappeared into one of his pockets and snatched the door keys of the prisoner’s room.
When de’ Risis entered he found Kornblum half-naked crouched in a corner. On his body the signs of torture were obvious and no torment had been spared. His legs and chest were covered with cigarette burns, his face horribly bruised. The captain didn’t need to see the bucket full of excrement near the man: from the smell in the room it was more than clear that the victim had been forced to drink an abundant portion of castor-oil.
Kornblum lifted his eyes and the captain saw pain and rage.
«Don’t be afraid, we are here to help you» he whispered taking his coat off.
Pietro helped him to get up and the captain covered him with his coat.
«Let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time. Don’t worry, we’ll take you to a safe place» urged de’ Risis supporting him along with Pietro.
Kornblum let them take him away without a word.
Cesare was waiting outside and they reached his coach without meeting anyone. They hid Kornblum in one of the big barrels and Pietro silently disappeared into a narrow alley.
4th December 1938
Rome, Ministry of War, Morelli’s office, 5.30 a.m.
That morning the captain was woken up at five.
Morelli sent one of his men to inform him that Kornblum had escaped and that he wanted to see him as soon as possible. The search had of course already started but with no result. The Blackshirts on watch couldn’t say how long they were unconscious before being able to warn the others and they couldn’t say anything about the people who helped the prisoner to flee. They were convinced it had to be at least two people but they were not able to remember anything else. It was as though a thick fog had descended upon them deleting some hours from their brains. Moreover they were still so sick that they couldn’t think clearly.
«Good Morning, captain – said Morelli – I am sorry I had to send someone to wake you up at this hour but Kornblum escaped and I think he has been helped by the same persons who helped Miss Cantarini and Mr. Romei. It’s a conspiracy, I am sure. There must be someone who wants to keep some very important information for himself. Information belonging to the government.»
The captain concealed a smile.
«Maybe we made a mistake. Maybe the other two art historians didn’t go to Frosinone but came here and now God only knows where they are hidden. We lost a lot of time but we’ll find them captain, we’ll find them, we’ll search all Rome.»
Morelli collapsed in the leather armchair in front of his desk and looked at the captain in the eyes. He suspected him but he wasn’t sure. The best thing to keep him under control would be to force him to help in the search.
«I believe you should tell me all the details. Did Kornblum confess something before escaping? – asked the captain understanding Morelli’s game – Something that might help us to find him. The name of a friend or a place? Any hint we could use?»
«No, nothing. We didn’t interrogate him before bringing him here. I wanted to do it this morning with you, captain, so that a member of the Royal army could witness it» lied Morelli.
«We have to search in his past. What do we know about him?» asked the captain thinking that they should have given Morelli a prize for how easy it was for him to lie.
«We don’t know a lot. His real name is David Kornblum, he is the son of a German intellectual and his mother is an Italian Jew. When he was in university he wrote a political pamphlet clearly against Hitler. There is no other information about him until he reappeared under a false name in Poggio Catino. His parents are living in piazzetta Mattei. His mother is working as a cleaning lady in nearby houses and his father is a translator but at the moment he can’t work because he is very ill.»
«Nothing else?»
«Nothing. My men are already searching the area where his parents live. Maybe some of their friends are hiding him.»
«I believe you are right. In any case, at the moment, this is the only possible direction to take»
«Vittorio! – Morelli suddenly called out loudly – Vittorio! – he repeated when a young man entered the room – This is captain Giulio de’ Risis. You’ll assist him in the search. Please give him any information he needs and follow his orders as if they were mine. Captain, my men are waiting for you to cooperate. Do everything possible and also the impossible if you need to, but bring me Kornblum.»
Without adding anything else the captain left the office followed by Vittorio. He knew absolutely that the young man was going to become his own shadow and that Morelli, who did not trust him, controlled him in every gesture, every word, every reaction. He was in a difficult position but he still could take advantage of it.
De’ Risis didn’t waste time but started immediately to organize the search with the men they gave him. His self-confidence in managing it, his intelligence and the wicked orders he gave even gained the favour of the initially reluctant Blackshirts team. Later, when he went to his car followed by Vittorio, the young man seemed to be happy to work with him and he was even more so when he saw the car. The captain smiled seeing his surprised face and thought that it was not going to be very difficult to hide his real plans from him.
Somewhere on the street Tivoli-Rome, 9.30 a.m.
They started at dawn.
Alessandro was wearing some of Tettamanzi’s clothes who, although not being small wasn’t tall enough to reach his height. The trousers were too short and he had to roll up the shirt sleeves so as not to show it didn’t really fit him. Luckily the improbable disguise had been hidden by a long cape tailored the way the cowboys and farmers of the region used to wear it. The problem was the shoes: it had been impossible to find another pair of the right size so they dirtied the shiny leath
er shoes Alessandro was wearing when they ran away from Poggio Catino.
They were refreshing themselves at a drinking trough when a man with a rifle on his shoulder approached. Letizia pulled down the scarf she was wearing to cover her forehead and lowered her eyes pretending to look for something in her basket and Alessandro hid his shoes in high grass. Tettamanzi remained calm.
«Good morning. As punctual as always» the man with the rifle greeted them.
«Here are the calves I promised you. As you see it’s a bargain» answered Tettamanzi.
«You are right. They are really wonderful. I am happy to buy them» said the man, paying for them.
When the man with the rifle and his calves disappeared behind the trees running alongside the fields Tettamanzi reprimanded his companions.
«You have to try to be more natural. Keep calm if not they will discover you. Let’s go now, we have still a lot of roads to cover»
They moved on without saying anything even though Letizia would have liked to tell him off as well: he could have told them that he was going to meet that man to sell the calves. She thought the animals were only part of their masquerade. Keep calm, he told them. But in that situation it wasn’t exactly easy.
After half an hour of walking she had forgiven him. And she didn’t want to lose the precious opportunity to ask him something.
«Have you known the captain for many years, Mr. Tettamanzi?»
«Yes» he answered laconically.
«How did you meet?»
«He was my superior during my conscription.»
Alessandro smiled. Tettamanzi wasn’t very talkative and Letizia with all her questions wasn’t going to get a lot out of him. He only said mysteriously that the captain saved his live. Letizia continued but the next series of questions was answered with monosyllables. The situation was making Alessandro laugh and she hated it. So she sulked and didn’t speak till they arrived near Rome’s gateway. There were quite a few military on the street.
The scarlet Lady Page 11