“What difference does it make to you, whether they go to Fossoli or out of the country?”
“If the Simones go to Fossoli, it gives me more time to petition for their release. I intend to ask everyone I can. There are so many important people among our clientele, like you. I’m going to ask every one of them to help. I have a chance if Sandro and his father are sent to Fossoli, but not if they’re deported.” Elisabetta paused. “And I have friends in Carpi, our balsamic producers. You love the balsamico we serve. Nonna used only the best acetaia there. Maybe I could visit Sandro, if he was sent to Fossoli.”
“You’re putting me in a terrible position.”
“I know, but I can’t help it.” Elisabetta felt tears in her eyes. “I love Sandro, and he loves me.”
Weizs?cker frowned, but had no reply.
“Baron, I’m appealing to you, as a gentleman. We have a relationship, don’t we? One of mutual respect? If you deny me this request, how can you ever look me in the eye again?”
Weizs?cker lifted an eyebrow, mildly amused. “Are you holding Casa Servano as hostage?”
“Yes,” Elisabetta shot back, unsmiling. She sensed a tiny shift in the balance of power between them. She found herself standing, instead of begging. “If you deny me, you can’t eat at my restaurant, ever again.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN
Beppe
16 October 1943
Beppe climbed the stairs to their apartment with Marco and Elisabetta behind him, but when he reached the kitchen, what he found left him breathless with rage. The bearlike Stefano Pretianni from OVRA held Gemma, pressing a knife against her throat. Her eyes had gone round with terror behind her glasses. Carmine Vecchio stood behind Maria, his hand clamped on her shoulder. His wife sat frozen in a chair, her face a mask of mute horror.
Carmine sneered. “Welcome home, Beppe.”
Beppe suppressed the fury in his chest. He knew instinctively he had to proceed with caution. “Let the women go. Your fight is with me.”
Marco added, “And me.”
Carmine’s dark eyes glittered with malice. “I finally got you where I want you, Beppe. I’m turning you and your family in. You’re hiding a Jewess. She gets what she deserves.”
“No!” Beppe shouted, but Stefano yanked his knife across Gemma’s throat, slicing it open.
Gemma’s eyes flared in agony. Blood spurted from the gruesome gash. She emitted a hideous gurgling sound.
Beppe roared, launching himself at Carmine and Stefano. Marco appeared at his side, running at the men. Stefano released Gemma, who collapsed to the floor, bleeding. Maria and Elisabetta rushed to her side, screaming in horror.
Beppe punched Stefano in the face. Stefano reeled backward, his nose exploding in blood. He dropped his knife.
Marco headbutted Carmine, who crumpled, stunned. Marco slugged him, but Beppe spotted Carmine slip his hand in his pocket. Beppe knew it was a gun, so he charged Carmine. The gun went off with a deafening report.
Beppe grabbed Carmine by the ears and banged his head against the wall, knocking him senseless. Carmine got off another shot as he slid down.
Beppe snatched Stefano’s knife from the floor and plunged it deep into Carmine’s chest. Carmine’s eyes popped.
Meanwhile Marco punched Stefano, who punched him back harder. Marco staggered, reeling. Stefano turned to the stairwell to run away.
Beppe lunged after Stefano, grabbed the big man, yanked him off-balance, then threw him into the wall, headfirst. The impact stunned Stefano. Marco punched Stefano again, knocking the big man backward. Stefano’s arms flailed. He fell, groaning. Blood poured from his broken nose.
Beppe picked up a chair, stalked to Stefano, and beat him with the chair until his skull showed. Stefano lay motionless, and Beppe dropped the chair with a clatter.
“Beppe!” Maria screamed, behind him. “You’re bleeding! You’ve been shot!”
“I’m okay,” Beppe told her, but warm blood bubbled in his throat. He remembered the coppery taste from the Great War.
“Papa, no!” Marco shouted, his eyes wide.
“Don’t worry.” Beppe looked down to see crimson bursts on his chest, blooming like grotesque flowers. He didn’t feel anything. He knew that he was losing blood fast.
“Beppe!” Maria rushed to his side.
Beppe dropped to his knees. He was going into shock. He had seen enough to know. Men had died from such wounds at Caporetto.
“Beppe, don’t leave!” Maria sobbed.
Beppe tried to reassure her, but he fell to the side.