Except Claudia came back.”
He stared at me, not saying anything, his eyes still wide.
“The problem is, they want me to testify.”
“Testify? To what?”
“Our little heart-to-heart about the partisan, for one thing. It gives the story a certain heft. Not to mention it’s a confession about Claudia’s father, which isn’t going to win you any friends in court.”
“You can’t prove any of this,” he said, panting a little. “A trial. They can’t prove anything.”
“Well, they might. In fact, I’d bet on it. On the other hand, anything can happen in court. I’ve seen it. You might get lucky. But either way it’ll be a circus. You don’t want me on the stand, and I don’t want to put my mother through it. So this time you really get lucky. No trial. You just go away. No, better-we’ll go away. All you lose is the money.”
“Bastard,” he said, trying to control himself. “Keep your money.”
“I will. I guess the usual thing would be to buy you off, but I figure you’re getting a great deal anyway. You go on as if nothing ever happened. Of course I can’t say about later-this kind of stuff has a way of coming out. But I can stop it for now, and that’ll buy you time. Then, who knows? Things change.”
“Stop it how?”
“I’ll get them to close the case. I can do it. I guess it’s obstructing justice in a way, but I’ll do it. That’s the truce. I don’t want a trial.” I looked at him. “And neither do you.”
“ Marmocchio,” he said, almost under his breath, a rumbling. “ Sei uno stronzo. Cazzo.”
“Not very nice, I guess. Whatever it is.”
“You shit. No, you know sciocco? Fool. You are a fool. I’ve tried everything with you.”
“Then try this. We’ll go away and your troubles will be over.”
“My only trouble is you. Crazy. Maybe that’s it, still crazy from the war. Maybe it affected your mind. You think you’re still in Germany? Always the Jews. Here, it’s another place. Not Germany, not the same. You want to put people on trial? For what, suffering in the war?”
“Not everybody suffered. You look like you’re doing all right.”
“It’s that Jewish whore. She makes you crazy. A woman like that. How many did she sleep with there? They should put her on trial.”
I stared at him, not responding, clenching my hands.
“But right now,” I said finally, “they’d rather have you.”
“You did this. You made this trouble.”
“No, you made it. But I can stop it. That’s the deal.”
He turned to leave. “You can go to hell. Do you think you can come here and put me on trial? Like a criminal? No, it’s a farce. You will be the one with the bad name, not me. A shame to your mother. Saying lies-and then, where’s the proof? Nowhere. No proof. You can’t prove anything.”
“Well, see, that’s the thing. They don’t necessarily have to prove it.”
“What?” he said, stopping.
“Not the people I talked to, anyway. They prefer it-professional pride. But sometimes, with the right guy, it’s enough just to say what they know, go public with it. Somebody else figures out the rest. Old partisans, maybe. Then they take care of it their own way.” He had paled again. “I told you I wanted to save your life. They did it to your brother. They wouldn’t think twice about doing it to you. Not once they know.” I looked at him. “You don’t want this trial.”
“It’s lies,” he said quietly.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“You don’t understand anything here-what these people are like.”
“I thought they were friends of yours. The one you helped-he’d speak for you, wouldn’t he? Or was he in the house that burned?”
“You-” Not finding the word, sputtering.
“Of course, they didn’t know about your other friends, over at Villa Raspelli. What are you going to say that was?” I shook my head. “It’s a great cover until the Germans talk. You know how they are, keeping track of everything. Reports to Berlin. Duplicates here. Verona, I guess. Everything that happened. All their little hopes and dreams. Their friends.” I stopped. “You don’t want this trial. They’d knock you off before you were halfway through. I don’t want any part of that. Not that you don’t have it coming. But I’m not going to be the one to do it. Make the truce.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“Make the truce.”
“ Cazzo, make it yourself,” he said, throwing up his hand as he brushed past me so that it accidentally caught my shoulder. I reacted by flinging up my arm to push it away. A flicker of motion, but enough to trigger an alarm in his head. I didn’t even see the hand come up, just felt it on my chest as he pushed me back in a fury, banging my head against the wall. “Don’t you dare raise a hand to me,” he said, panting, holding me.
“Let go,” I said, seeing only the blur of his white front, his hand coming out of a starched cuff. Then his face, clearer now, eyes glaring at me.
“You think I wouldn’t do it? Bah.” He loosened his hold, then dropped his hand. “And make more trouble. So you can run to Mama.”
“That’s right,” I said, staring at him. “You like someone else to do it. Even better when it’s official. When it’s the right thing to do.”
“Go to hell.” He started toward the door, smoothing back the sides of his hair, then turned. “I warn you.”
We stared at each other, a standoff, broken suddenly by the front doorbell. For a second neither of us moved, not yet jolted out of ourselves, then I stepped away from the wall.
“Fix your tie,” I said, brushing past him.
“ Cazzo,” he said, spitting it, but he went over to the mirror to adjust himself, public again.
I opened the door to Claudia, looking worried, her hair a little scraggly in the moist air.
“So you are here,” she said. “The lights are out upstairs.”
“Didn’t you get my message?”
“Yes, but it’s late.” She stopped, seeing Gianni in the hall. “Oh.”
“Ha, the whore,” Gianni said. “Now everything is complete. The cazzo and his whore. A perfect couple.”
“Shut up,” I said.
“Why is he here?” Claudia said.
“To listen to nonsense. Now I go.”
Claudia looked at me. “What nonsense?”
“Nothing,” I said, drawing her in. “Just a little talk.”
“Talk,” Gianni said. “Nonsense.”
“You’re right,” I said, turning to him. He was elegant again, his hair back in place. “It is nonsense. Why bother? I don’t want a truce either. Not anymore.”
“No? What do you want?”
“I want to nail you. I want people to know.”
“At my so-called trial.”
“That’s right, at your trial. I’m looking forward to it.”
“What trial?” Claudia said. “What are you talking about?”
“More drama for you,” Gianni said. “You like so much to make scenes. Now you can tell everybody where your bed was at the camp. All your special privileges-how you earned them. He wants you to tell everybody. He wants people to know.”
“Stop it,” I said.
“My lawyer will ask the questions. I guarantee it. At this trial you want.”
Claudia moved from the door, backing into the hall. He followed her with words.
“You think I don’t know about you? Someone attacks me, I ask questions. I find out. Vanessi, the man at the camp-you think he would keep a woman out of pity? No. And not once, months. Not forced, a mistress. Someone who liked it. Who liked him, maybe.”
