put an end to it. Be careful about everything, even eye contact. Still, what choice would he have?
It was a while before I realized the room was getting darker. No more umbrellas on the Zattere, just people hurrying home with packages. A few calles away, Mimi and my mother would be looking into mirrors, finishing their makeup while the maids stood by with their pressed gowns. Mimi’s palazzo was just up from the Dario, so the vaporettos stopping at Salute would see the lights coming on, the chandeliers in the great front rooms reflecting out on the canal. You could walk there from anywhere in Dorsoduro in minutes, but everyone would want to go by water and be seen. It occurred to me that Gianni would probably have a boat too, and I went downstairs to open the water gate and turn on the lights in the murky entrance where Claudia and I had kissed that night. Same gondola up on its storage rack, the pile of paving stones under a tarp, the utility boat bobbing outside near the mossy steps. If we’d followed the kiss, just left the house instead of climbing the stairs-but we hadn’t.
I left the connecting door open and put on the lights in the hall, once a single room that ran the length of the house, water to calle. Off it were some smaller rooms we never used, presumably old offices or receiving rooms, now just extra work for the maids. Good enough, however, for a conversation. It was already dark upstairs. Why bother with the chandeliers if I was about to leave too? No need to be polite-a few minutes, not even a drink.
I lit a cigarette and sat waiting in one of the chilly side parlors. Where was he? Now that I’d decided what to do, even convinced myself it was right, any delay seemed to stretch out the time, make it seem even longer than it was. I looked at my watch. Always late, my mother had said. I began to fidget, impatient, picking at the fraying upholstery on the arm of the chair. Maybe she’d called him after all, told him to go to Mimi’s. And maybe he was just late. I got up and walked toward the water entrance again, moving to keep warm. No sound of rain outside. Mimi might be lucky after all.
The street bell made me jump, the sound bouncing off the marble floors, jarring in the quiet house. Another ring, insistent, to make Angelina run for it. He had his finger up to ring again when I opened the door.
“Adam,” he said, surprised. He looked toward the dark stairs. “Where’s your mother? Am I so late?” He glanced down at his watch.
“No, she went over earlier to hold Mimi’s hand.”
“But you said-”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“Ah,” he said, noncommittal, still at the door.
I opened it wider. He was dressed formally, white tie, everything crisp and shiny. Even in the halfhearted hall light the shirtfront glowed. I had never thought of him as handsome before, but formal clothes brought out the best in him. The slicked-back silver hair, bright eyes, smooth-shaven skin-everything looked dressed up, stage romantic. When he reached into his breast pocket, I almost expected to see a silver cigarette case, but it was only a pack, not yet opened.
“So I’m not in the doghouse,” he said, pulling off the cellophane. “She says it’s terrible how I’m late. You’re expecting someone by boat?” He looked toward the water entrance, the dark canal beyond.
“I thought you might hire a gondola-for Mimi’s.”
“I don’t hire gondolas. I have a gondola. Anyway, I prefer to walk.” He lit a cigarette, peering at me as he closed the lighter. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I want to make a truce.”
“I thought we had a truce.”
“A new one. Different.”
“Ah,” he said, marking time. He gestured to the staircase. “You want to talk here?”
“It won’t take long. Anyway, you don’t want to crease your tails.”
“All right,” he said, displeased. “So?”
“Here’s the way this one works. You’re going to leave my mother, end it. I’ll take her away-home, if she’ll go. Anyway, not here. You won’t see us again.”
He sighed. “What a nuisance you’ve become. Like a child.”
“I can get her away in a week. Maybe two.”
“And when am I supposed to do this? Tonight, at the ball?” he said, toying. “Another scene? Will your friend be there? For the drama?”
“This week,” I said steadily. “Tomorrow, why not? Maybe you realized tonight, it can never be. Two different worlds-you figure out what to say. It wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”
He looked away, not rising to this, and started walking slowly toward the water entrance. “And why would I do this?”
“Because I’m going to do something for you.”
He turned. “Don’t do anything for me. I don’t want anything from you.”
“You’ll want this. I’m going to save your life.”
He stopped, staring at me. “What are you talking about?”
“Your trial.”
“My trial,” he said, toneless, waiting.
I moved toward him. “You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t started with the first lie. Your old friend Grassini. You didn’t expect it-it was all of a sudden, her coming at you, so of course you’d deny it. Anybody’s first instinct. But then you kept lying about it. Now why was that? Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even illegal. And you wouldn’t have been the only one. But here you are, just her word against yours and everybody happy to sweep it under the carpet, and still you get all excited. Ride it out? No. You try to get rid of her, make her go away. At the time, I didn’t think. I was ashamed for you. I thought this is how anyone would feel, to have this known. But you were never ashamed of that. Your reputation would have survived it. Others’ have. But you had to get rid of her. Now why was that?”
“This is so hard for you to understand? Talk like that.”
“No, that’s not it. You didn’t want people talking at all. Looking into it. Grassini meant nothing to you. But think what else they might find, once they started looking into things. That you had to stop.”
He picked up an ashtray from the hall table and rubbed out his cigarette. “Really,” he said finally. “What makes you think so?”
“Because I did look into it.”
“You did.”
I nodded. “With some friends in the AMG. They do fieldwork for war crimes trials. You scoop up a German, you’d be surprised what else swims into the net.”
His eyes widened. “What else?”
“A brother who ran errands for the SS and got bumped off by partisans. A whole series of cozy dinners at Villa Raspelli-no stethoscopes, just you and the boys in black. They have records. They also have the Germans. Can’t stop talking, it seems. Don’t care a bit what happens to their old Italian buddies. Happy to help out. See, once you start looking into things-”
“Why are you doing this?” he said, his voice quiet, stunned, the earlier smooth polish gone.
“To make a truce,” I said. “To get rid of you.”
“You hate me so much.”
“All of you. Look at you. Fucking Fred Astaire, and a year ago you were putting people on trains. Ever see what happened to them? I’d take you down in a minute if I could, but I’m not going to let you take my mother with you. So you get a break. Which is a lot more than you gave Claudia’s father, and who knows who else. Your famous partisan.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That was good. You explain away one lie with another. What made you think I’d believe the new one? You killed him too.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Had him tracked, I should say. You never pull a trigger yourself. A whole bunch of them this time, thanks to you. They’re preparing the case now. Check with the hospital-see if anybody called about the records, first week in October, 1944.”
“But it’s not true,” he said, pale now.
“You want to know something? I don’t give a shit. I think it is true. And if this isn’t, something else will be. One way or another, they’ll get what they need. They’re good. And you were so close-getting away with everything.
