He was setting his hat on his head, when someone knocked.
“Come in. I’m just getting ready.”
Pietro’s secretary. She looked upset.
“Mrs Sala?”
“They’ve taken the minister.”
He should have gone out into the hallway. “What are the charges?”
Mrs Sala shook her head. “I wasn’t able to hear them.”
“Call the Villa Adige and inform my family that Minister d’Oro and I will not be home for lunch. Do not tell them why. Just say an urgent matter has come up.” He had another idea. “Please call Colonel Grimani first. Tell him to meet me at the police station.”
She turned to go.
“And Mrs Sala? Tell the Colonel to come immediately. His meal can wait.”
He took the stairs down to the police quarters to enquire about the charges, to at least get hold of the man responsible for the case. He was surprised when the man in charge offered to let him see Pietro right away and led him to a holding room in the basement.
Pietro was standing under the window and smiled, but defeat dimmed his eyes.
“How are you?” Angelo asked.
He gestured to a chair. “They plan to only question me. I haven’t been arrested yet. I imagine they could charge me with anything as little as abusing my power and manipulating bids to as much as treason. Any of it, of course, quite incorrect.”
“I’ve called for the Colonel.”
“Ah.”
“You could have just retired when they asked you to, the way the Colonel advised you.”
“He warned me, Angelo—he did not advise. I do not take warmly to warnings.”
“You wonder where Chiara gets her fighting spirit.” They both grinned, and Angelo relaxed a little. “They won’t prosecute you.”
“No, Angelo, if I go quietly, they will install you as minister. And you will take over quietly.”
Angelo wanted to say something positive. Instead, he felt angry. “You fed too long on the successes of the German League. Count Edmond promised you too much when he promised to fight for your position. If the Tyroleans had gained control, even then there would have been nothing he could have done for you. They are just as anti-Italian as we are against the…”
“See? Violence begets violence.” Pietro’s smile turned from knowing to apologetic. “You must admit it was all rather exciting. The League made much progress. We believed we were running to win the race. Basic human rights. Bilingual access to all minority groups. The Tyroleans demanded only that, and yet they deserve more.”
“Yes,” Angelo said sharply, “and the Fascists crushed them. Even the count is in exile. You should have stopped it all then.”
“I’m sorry that I convinced Edmond to flee,” Pietro said.
“Why? The League was disbanded. The Fascists beat him up in the street, in broad daylight. There’s nothing for him to do here now. And the countess, well, Susi should have gone with him. I don’t understand why she decided to stay behind.”
“Because it’s her country.”
Angelo gritted his teeth. “It’s Italy now.”
Pietro cocked his head. “It must be difficult for you, son, to be trapped in the middle of us all. Chiara. Me. Nicolo. Don’t look at me that way. I know where you’ve been all those nights and weekends, at your father’s side. I could try and explain this all to Chiara, but she is absolutely unforgiving about such things. You know she values honesty and justice and righteousness above all else. Yet I suspect that she loves you enough to protect herself. She swats away the rumours about your activity in the Fascist party because it’s easier that way.”
“Chiara’s the main reason I’m active. To protect her.”
Pietro shrugged. “You mean should her political activities—the causes she so passionately believes in—create trouble for her? Or make it uncomfortable for you?”
Angelo looked down at his lap. “You know I don’t subscribe to any of it.”
“That is the danger, Angelo. The members prey on you because they believe you are weak. Do you truly believe you have the strength to take them on if you’re dressed up like them?”
“Yes.”
“You seem pretty certain about that.”
“I wasn’t before. I am now. Do you want to know the story? The one about when the Colonel handed me those orders? Then I’ll tell you.
“It was on the Marmolada. My men and I were on a mission to spy on those Austro-Hungarians and the Prussians up on the peaks. This was an easy assignment for me because I’ve been skiing those mountains since I was a child. I know them blindfolded.
“My troops and I could get very close to their nest. We studied the enemy for weeks. We knew when they slept, we knew when they ate and what they ate, we knew when they were drunk, and we knew where and when they pissed. We even knew the lyrics to their folk songs and could have sung with them.
“Then the day came when my father, the Colonel, came on tour and began giving us orders. It was crazy, those last months of the war, Pietro. Really. There were soldiers from the navy stationed in the mountains, and fathers as commanding officers. When my father mapped out the strategy he had in mind, I saw immediately how devastating it would be to us. I sought to speak with him, but he refused to listen to me and degraded me. I know that he was under a lot of pressure. And I…” Angelo sighed. “I was afraid of him. So I put my tail between my legs, went back to my unit, and explained that we were to proceed as ordered.
“My best friend, Gasparo Farinelli, was also with me and was my first lieutenant. Before we were deployed, he asked me again to speak to the Colonel. We all knew we were being sent to a slaughter, and they thought
