“Of course not.” Sandro’s father turned to Mayer. “There is no reason to search the synagogue. This is a place of worship. There is no radio equipment here or anything of the sort. This is outrageous.”
Sandro bit his tongue, frightened for his father. Nazi soldiers armed with submachine guns were already pouring through the door, positioning themselves behind Mayer in a show of lethal force.
“Stand aside,” Mayer said to them, then barked an order in German. The Nazi soldiers aimed their guns at Sandro, his father, and Rosina.
His father straightened. “Captain Mayer, you need not threaten us in this way. I merely sought to explain—”
“Move aside!”
They did so, and Mayer issued another order, causing the Nazi soldiers to lower their weapons. On the next command, the Nazis flooded the sanctuary, jogged down the aisles in their black boots, and rifled through the carved wooden seats. There were locked wooden boxes at each seat that contained prayer books, and they smashed the lids with the butts of their guns.
Sandro and the others watched, terrified and aghast. One cadre of Nazis hustled to the alms boxes, also locked, and broke them open the same way. Yet another cadre hurried to the front of the synagogue, climbed the steps to the bimah, and headed for the ark, which held the sacred Torah scrolls and other holy books, behind a brocade curtain.
Sandro clutched his father’s arm, and they stood in stunned disbelief as the Nazis yanked the curtain aside, exposing the holy books. They picked up two scrolls and threw them on the floor, a profanity.
Sandro’s father gasped. “Captain Mayer, that’s vandalism! Those soldiers are in a sacred area, where only rabbis are permitted. There is no radio equipment!”
Foà’s eyes rounded with alarm. “Captain Mayer, you can’t do this! This is a violation of Jewish law, and I cannot sanction—”
“Silence!” Mayer shouted. “I have orders to search the synagogue from top to bottom. You lost the war and are now under martial law. Quiet or I’ll have you taken to Via Tasso.”
Sandro’s heart hammered in his chest, and he looked over, horrified to see Nazis swarming the stairwell, running upstairs and down.
“Now, we go upstairs, everyone!” Mayer gestured to the stairwell, and Sandro and the others followed him and ascended to the second floor, only to be greeted by an appalling sight.
Nazis were ransacking the bookshelves in the conference room, tossing books and papers onto the floor. One side of the room held locked file cabinets, and Nazis broke them open and rifled through the contents. Other Nazis arrived with cardboard boxes and started packing the papers and files.
Sandro’s father frowned. “Captain Mayer, those are records of the Community. Why are they being confiscated? You said you wanted only to search.”
“We can search more effectively off the premises.” Mayer pointed at the bookshelf against the far wall. “Foà, what are those bound volumes?”
Foà hesitated. “The minutes of our meetings of the Jewish Council and financial ledgers.”
Mayer gave orders in rapid German, and Nazis tore the volumes and financial ledgers from the shelves and loaded them into boxes. “Foà, what are those index cards?”
Foà’s lined face fell. “The names, addresses, and genealogy information of our members.”
Mayer gave more orders, and Nazis began boxing the index cards. “Foà, I know the Community has a safe. Where is it?”
Foà sighed in resignation. “In my office.”
“Show me. Signora, remain here, please. The others, come with me.”
Foà crossed to his office and opened the door, followed by Sandro and his father. The room contained a desk covered with papers, a wooden cabinet, and a bookshelf filled with books, photographs, and a menorah of engraved silver. Sandro had never been in the office before.
Foà opened the cabinet door, revealing a black safe. “Here.”
“Open it.”
“The key’s in my desk.” Foà pulled out his desk drawer, produced a small gold key, then unlocked the safe.
Mayer looked inside. “How much money is that?”
“About two million lire.”
“Leave. I must use the telephone.” Mayer motioned them out and closed the door, while they waited in coerced silence. Sandro exchanged looks with his father, who looked angrier than he had ever seen him. Around them, Nazis ransacked cabinets and confiscated files, papers, and index cards. Sandro strained to eavesdrop on Mayer’s phone call, but couldn’t make out the German words.