even realize I was pregnant until last month. I haven’t menstruated in two years, what with the lousy diet and all.”
There were times when Guidi wondered how he’d managed to stay naive, despite his job. Unused to women’s talk, he said clumsily, “What will you do then?”
“Give it up for adoption. Any better ideas?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, it’s starting to show through the winter clothes. I figure I’m due in late May or early June. My only problem is telling the Maiulis. They’re so close-minded. But I don’t think they want to lose a tenant.”
“Wouldn’t your boyfriend – that is, wouldn’t he take care of things?”
“Well, aren’t you nice. No, it’s not likely he would.”
“Oh, right. I forgot, you said he has a wife.”
Francesca merrily tossed her head back. “And you a policeman! Do you believe everything they tell you?” In front of thestationer’s, she got down quickly. Before slamming the car door, she said, “I may not come back tonight,” she said. “Just tell the Maiulis I’m staying at a girlfriend’s house.”
At noon, Guidi – getting lost only once – drove to German Army headquarters at the Hotel Flora, with the intent of discussing the unexpected appearance of Merlo’s glasses. A cool-faced young woman in uniform informed him that Major Bora was out, and not expected back soon. Guidi thought better than to say he’d seen Bora’s Mercedes parked below.
“Would you take a message for the major?” he asked.
“Yes, certainly.”
“Simply write this – Must find out who got there before us. ”
The young woman gave him a curious look, but jotted down the words. Behind her, Bora’s door was open onto a full view of his desk: papers stacked, maps. Something was missing from the array of objects, though Guidi could not say what.
All along Via Veneto, armored cars and nervous, gun-toting patrols discouraged him from staying around until Bora showed up. But had Guidi waited ten minutes more, he’d have seen Bora leave for the Questura Centrale , bound to deliver a withering reprimand to Pietro Caruso of the Polizia Repubblicana on behalf of German Army Command South.
That evening, the first news the Maiulis related was the radio item of a Canadian airplane that had crashed in the periphery. The second was that Francesca had not shown up. Guidi reassured them about her, and while dinner was being prepared, went to his room to scribble the latest in his notebook. The notes were actually questions. Had Caruso just received Merlo’s glasses? If his men had gained early access to Magda’s apartment, why had the key not been made available to him? Had the Germans taken it back? What did Merlo’s glasses actually prove, other than he’d visited Magda at one time or another?
Bora’s help, now that it was needed, couldn’t be counted on. Sure, he was “away from work”. I bet he was in the back roomwith his wife. And he got the secretary up front covering for him. In his jaundiced state of mind, Guidi was more than a little envious of the German, his handsome wife, and to what use “the nights with her” were undoubtedly being put. He compared that to Francesca’s lack of interest in him – as if she ought to be interested in him. But then – she says she has a lover. Does she? Is he the father? Maybe she has no lover at all. At the moribund glare of the bed lamp, Guidi realized he’d been scribbling Francesca’s name all over the page of his notebook. And he recalled, with sudden clarity, that what was missing from Bora’s desk was the photograph of his wife.
On his way out of the office, General Westphal said, “ I ’m not telling you anything, Bora. I never waste time advising grown men who tell me they know what they’re doing. It’s the field marshal who says you’re a fool.” He sat with arms crossed, nodding toward a short message on his desk. “Does it read, ‘Tell Martin he’s a fool’, or not? It’s fine with me if
There were times when Guidi wondered how he’d managed to stay naive, despite his job. Unused to women’s talk, he said clumsily, “What will you do then?”
“Give it up for adoption. Any better ideas?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, it’s starting to show through the winter clothes. I figure I’m due in late May or early June. My only problem is telling the Maiulis. They’re so close-minded. But I don’t think they want to lose a tenant.”
“Wouldn’t your boyfriend – that is, wouldn’t he take care of things?”
“Well, aren’t you nice. No, it’s not likely he would.”
“Oh, right. I forgot, you said he has a wife.”
Francesca merrily tossed her head back. “And you a policeman! Do you believe everything they tell you?” In front of thestationer’s, she got down quickly. Before slamming the car door, she said, “I may not come back tonight,” she said. “Just tell the Maiulis I’m staying at a girlfriend’s house.”
At noon, Guidi – getting lost only once – drove to German Army headquarters at the Hotel Flora, with the intent of discussing the unexpected appearance of Merlo’s glasses. A cool-faced young woman in uniform informed him that Major Bora was out, and not expected back soon. Guidi thought better than to say he’d seen Bora’s Mercedes parked below.
“Would you take a message for the major?” he asked.
“Yes, certainly.”
“Simply write this – Must find out who got there before us. ”
The young woman gave him a curious look, but jotted down the words. Behind her, Bora’s door was open onto a full view of his desk: papers stacked, maps. Something was missing from the array of objects, though Guidi could not say what.
All along Via Veneto, armored cars and nervous, gun-toting patrols discouraged him from staying around until Bora showed up. But had Guidi waited ten minutes more, he’d have seen Bora leave for the Questura Centrale , bound to deliver a withering reprimand to Pietro Caruso of the Polizia Repubblicana on behalf of German Army Command South.
That evening, the first news the Maiulis related was the radio item of a Canadian airplane that had crashed in the periphery. The second was that Francesca had not shown up. Guidi reassured them about her, and while dinner was being prepared, went to his room to scribble the latest in his notebook. The notes were actually questions. Had Caruso just received Merlo’s glasses? If his men had gained early access to Magda’s apartment, why had the key not been made available to him? Had the Germans taken it back? What did Merlo’s glasses actually prove, other than he’d visited Magda at one time or another?
Bora’s help, now that it was needed, couldn’t be counted on. Sure, he was “away from work”. I bet he was in the back roomwith his wife. And he got the secretary up front covering for him. In his jaundiced state of mind, Guidi was more than a little envious of the German, his handsome wife, and to what use “the nights with her” were undoubtedly being put. He compared that to Francesca’s lack of interest in him – as if she ought to be interested in him. But then – she says she has a lover. Does she? Is he the father? Maybe she has no lover at all. At the moribund glare of the bed lamp, Guidi realized he’d been scribbling Francesca’s name all over the page of his notebook. And he recalled, with sudden clarity, that what was missing from Bora’s desk was the photograph of his wife.
On his way out of the office, General Westphal said, “ I ’m not telling you anything, Bora. I never waste time advising grown men who tell me they know what they’re doing. It’s the field marshal who says you’re a fool.” He sat with arms crossed, nodding toward a short message on his desk. “Does it read, ‘Tell Martin he’s a fool’, or not? It’s fine with me if
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