“How will I find you?” Pino said. “In Innsbruck, I mean.”
“I’ll call your parents’ apartment once we get there.”
“Why don’t you just go to my parents’ apartment now? Or at least once you’ve got Dolly packed?”
“Dolly needs me to get settled,” Anna said. “She knows I want to come straight back to Milan as soon as possible.”
“Does she?”
“Yes. I told her she was going to have to hire a new maid.”
Pino kissed her, and they untangled and dressed. Before he went out the door, he took Anna in his arms and said, “I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”
“You’ll hear from me, I promise. I’ll call for you as soon as I can.”
Pino gazed into Anna’s eyes, stroked his powerful hands over her face, and murmured, “The war’s all but over. Will you marry me when you come back?”
“Marry?” she said, tears glistening in her eyes. “You’re sure?”
“More than sure.”
Anna kissed his palm and whispered, “Then, yes.”
Pino felt joy surge through him as powerful as a crescendo. “Yes?”
“Of course. With all my heart, Pino. With all my soul.”
“I know it’s corny,” Pino said, “but you’ve just made me the happiest, luckiest guy in all of Italy.”
“I think we’ve made each other happy and lucky,” she said, kissing him again.
Hearing the general’s boots in the kitchen already, Pino held her as long as he dared and whispered, “Our love will be eternal.”
“Forever and ever,” she said.
They parted. Pino took one last look at Anna, winked, and left with her beauty, her scent, and her touch dominating his mind.
General Leyers went first to Gestapo headquarters, emerging from the Hotel Regina an hour later. Then they drove to the telephone exchange, where Leyers disappeared inside for hours while another day of listless heat baked Milan.
Pino took refuge in the shade and noticed that everyone who walked by seemed on edge, as if they’d sensed a violent storm coming. He thought of Anna. When would he see her again? He felt hollow at the thought it might be a week, or a month. But what was time after the war? Infinite. And Anna said yes to his sudden proposal! She would love him for ever and ever. And he would love her for ever and ever. No matter what might happen, something was certain about his future now, and it calmed him.
Let not your heart be troubled, Pino thought, and basked in the sureness of being part of something bigger than himself, eternal. He was already envisioning a fantastic life for them, already falling in love with the miracles of what tomorrow might hold. He needed a ring, didn’t he? He could— Pino realized that he was just a few blocks from the Piazzale Loreto and Beltramini’s Fresh Fruits and Vegetables.
Was Carletto there? How was his mother? He hadn’t seen his oldest friend in more than eight months, since he’d stumbled away from Carletto as he held his poor father’s dead body.
Part of Pino wanted to walk there from the telephone exchange and explain himself, but the fear that Carletto might not believe him kept him put, sweating, hungry, and sick of waiting around on the general’s whim. He would have Mimo go tell Carletto when the time was— “Vorarbeiter!” General Leyers barked.
Pino jumped up, saluting and running toward the general, who was already at the back door of the Fiat, holding his valise, an impatient, annoyed look on his face. Pino apologized, blaming it on the heat.
Leyers looked up at the sky and the sun beating down on the city. “Does it always get like this in late April?”
“Non, mon général,” Pino said, relieved as he opened the door. “It’s very rare. Everything about the weather this year is very rare. Where do we go?”
“Como,” Leyers said. “We’ll be spending the night.”
“Oui, mon général,” Pino said, glancing in the rearview, where Leyers was rifling around his valise. “And when will Dolly and Anna go to Innsbruck?”
The general looked engrossed in something, didn’t look up. “They’re on their way by now, I should think. No more questions. I have work to do.”
Pino drove to Como and the stadium. Three days before, he’d seen the bonfire on the pitch. The ash was gone, and there were several companies of Organization Todt soldiers and officers encamped on the field. They’d put up tarps over sections of the grandstands and lounged under them in the shade, as if they were on holiday.
When Leyers went inside, Pino curled up in the front seat of the Fiat. But by the raucous noise echoing from the stadium, he figured the German soldiers were drinking. Leyers was probably in there with them. They lost, but the war was over, or would be any day now. That was cause enough for any man to get drunk, he supposed, and fell into a deep sleep.
Pino woke the next morning, Wednesday, April 25, 1945, to the sound of knuckles rapping against the Fiat’s passenger window. He was surprised the sun had risen. He’d slept soundly, dreamed of Anna, and— The car door opened. An OT soldier said General Leyers needed him inside.
Pino got up, ran his fingers through his hair, looked at himself in the mirror. Grimy, but okay. He followed the soldier inside Leyers’s headquarters and down a series of halls to a room with a glass window that overlooked the pitch.
The general was dressed in civilian clothes and drinking coffee with a short man with jet-black hair and a narrow black mustache. He turned to look at Pino and nodded.
“You prefer English or Italian?” the man said in an American accent.
Pino, who towered over him, said, “English is fine.”
“Max Corvo,” he said, and stuck out his hand.
Pino hesitated, but then shook it. “Pino Lella. Where are you from?”
“America. Connecticut. Tell the general here that I’m with the OSS, the Office of Strategic Services, and that I represent Allen Dulles.”
Pino hesitated, but then translated it into French for the general, who nodded.
Corvo said, “We want your assurance that your men will remain in their barracks, General Leyers, and offer zero resistance if they are asked to lay down their arms.”
Pino translated. Leyers nodded. “When there’s a deal in place, signed by Field Marshal Vietinghoff, my men will comply. And tell him I continue to work to save Milan from destruction.”
“The United States of America appreciates that, General Leyers,” Corvo said. “I think there’ll be something on paper and signed in less than a week, maybe even sooner.”
Leyers nodded. “Until then. Wish Mr. Dulles my best.”
Pino translated, and then added, “He has been burning documents across northern Italy for the past three days.”
Corvo cocked his head. “That true?”
“Yes,” Pino said. “They’re all burning documents. All of them.”
“Okay,” the OSS agent said. “Thanks for telling me.”
Corvo shook the general’s hand, and Pino’s, and then he was gone.