“I never said I harmed him. Simply that once a course is set, it must be followed.” He straightened his shoulders and held his head high, a newfound confidence replacing the display of weeping sorrow. “Please, call Inspector Cipriano, and ask him what charge can be brought against me. Actually, it was I who was assaulted tonight. Only my blood was shed.”
Kaz, Diana, and I retreated to the hallway, leaving O’Flaherty standing guard over Bruzzone.
“I don’t like it,” Diana said. “He is probably a little crazy, but smart. He went right back to his original story.”
“He’s gotta be a little nuts. We should have had Cipriano here to see all this,” I said. “But he was a possible suspect too.”
“Bruzzone was obviously under a lot of pressure,” Kaz said, “keeping everything bottled up. Now that he has confessed his sins, he has retreated into self-preservation. After months of deceit, it is likely second nature to him. What should we do? He is right that our standing here is precarious as best.”
“I’m going to try something,” I said. We went back into the room.
“Are you going to let me go?” Bruzzone asked.
“I think we can put together a case against you with Inspector Cipriano,” I said.
“Of course, I forget. I stole a cheese knife as well. Good luck, my friend.”
“Okay,” I said, shaking my head as if we’d been outfoxed. “Let me congratulate you. You’re doing everything right. Stick to your story, I’m sure that you’ll be able to hang on here until the Allies arrive.”
“Yes,” Kaz chimed in, already with me. “Then there will be a different police force in Rome. They will certainly take up the case of the murder of an American monsignor.”
“So sit tight,” I said. “You know that Corrigan was friends with Wild Bill Donovan, head of the OSS? I’m sure he’ll send in a team with the first Allied troops to enter Rome. It may be a month or so, but your day will come. Enjoy the time you have left.”
“I will go to the Germans. I cannot be kept here against my will.”
“Don’t you be so sure, Renato,” O’Flaherty said. “Inspector Cipriano may put you in protective custody. Monsignor Corrigan has a lot of friends here who may wish you harm, regardless of the legal issues. It would be for your own good.” O’Flaherty was quick on the uptake himself.
I watched Bruzzone’s eyes go from calm and confident to wary and worried. We had him. “There is another way,” I said.
“What?” he asked.
“I need to close out this case. Write out what you told us here-”
“Never!”
“Just as you told us. Nothing about crimes committed in the Vatican. But Genoa, Rossi coming here, contacting the Gestapo, Koch, all that. Nothing that Cipriano could arrest you for.”
“And what will you do for me?”
“I will get you out of here by noon today. I’m in contact with a German intelligence officer who can take you north. He’ll want to hear about you contacts with the Gestapo and Koch. Maybe they’ll set you up with Mussolini in Salo, on Lake Garda. Ought to be nice there in the spring. The Fascists could use a tame priest, don’t you think?”
We went back and forth for a while before Bruzzone caved. I had him convinced it would be either a short wait for the Allies and a possible OSS assassination team or a chance to leave the Vatican behind and head north with a German escort, putting miles and a lot of munitions between his own precious self and the advancing Allies. By the time he’d written out his statement, he was chuckling over what a great deal he’d made.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
A few hours of sleep later, Diana and I stood by the white border in Saint Peter’s Square, her face turned up to the warming sun. Kaz and Abe stood a few yards back with Bruzzone, each of them grasping an arm. It was a pleasant day.
“What’s the purpose of the statement, Billy? You can’t use it for anything. Nothing legal, anyway,” she said.
“Right, but I needed Bruzzone to believe it was worth something to me. And he thinks it will put him in the good graces of the Germans, having warned them of an Allied agent at the Spanish Steps.”
“But he doesn’t know that you are turning him over to one of Colonel Remke’s men.”
“Exactly. I mentioned an intelligence officer, but he didn’t put two and two together. He was so desperate to find a willing sponsor to take him north, away from the Allied armies, he didn’t consider that possibility.”
“So the confession is really for Remke,” she said, her eyes still closed and lifted toward the sky. “Funny.”
“What?”
“That if Bruzzone were not so desperate for his own life, he might have taken the time to think it all through. Now, his lust for life will be the death of him.” I didn’t agree that it was funny, but I didn’t quibble about it either.
A few minutes later, a staff car rolled up and stopped by the white line. Bernard rolled down the driver’s window and gave a wave. Dieter got out on the passenger’s side, his arm in sling, but with a smile on his face. Nice to have pals among your enemies.
“It seems you owe us an automobile as well as a uniform,” Dieter said, clicking his heels and executing a slight bow in Diana’s direction. I decided the friendliness was especially directed toward her. But I was used to that.
“I didn’t think you’d want the car back full of holes. But I do have your uniform, cleaned and pressed. Boots shined as well,” I said, as I handed him a small valise.
“Thank you, Billy. I do not think I will see Italy again for a long time. I am glad at least to leave with my hand-tailored uniform and good Italian boots.”
“I have something else for you,” I said, handing him the paper and gesturing with my thumb toward Bruzzone. “A murdering monsignor. He’s the guy who tipped off Koch about our meeting.”
“And the man who killed Monsignor Corrigan and Commissario Soletto?” Dieter asked.
“Word gets around,” I said. “Your informers are quick off the mark. Yeah, that’s him.”
“Why give him to us?” Dieter asked. “Not that I mind getting my hands on the man who was the cause of my wound.” He rubbed his arm as he eyed Bruzzone.
“Certain legal questions have been raised. The Lateran Treaty, jurisdiction, that sort of thing. There’s a chance he could get away with it, given the current situation.”
“He doesn’t look worried,” Dieter said, glancing at Bruzzone.
“Well, he doesn’t know who you are. He was trying to get in good with the Gestapo, so they would protect him from any charges. He thinks you’re the next best thing. I promised him you’d take him north.”
“He is the murderer, you are certain?”
“We are,” Diana said.
That seemed to settle that. “He will be taken north, you have my word.” Dieter nodded to Bernard, who bundled Bruzzone into the back of the car. I thought I saw a look flash across his face, concern perhaps, or maybe the ache in his head had worn off and he was thinking more clearly. But it didn’t last. I could see the killer’s wheels spinning, the process of rationalization kicking back in. He was telling himself a story and willing it to be true. He was going north, yes.
We waved good-bye.
“Let’s walk through Saint Peter’s,” Diana said after we’d watched the car drive off. Rino and Abe had disappeared, and we were as alone as we’d been in a while, the huge square behind us.
“I don’t know,” I said as we neared the entrance. “I don’t know if I want to go inside.”
“Billy, it’s beautiful. Awe-inspiring. And I’m not even Catholic.”
“That’s just it. I am. But the people I’ve seen here are no different from people anywhere. Some decent, some bad, and a lot in between. I thought it would be different at the Vatican, like a shining city on a hill. But it’s
