The Words We Whisper by Mary Ellen Taylor

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

ISABELLA

Rome, Italy

Saturday, June 3, 1944, 7:15 a.m.

I was more tired than I should have been as I hurried toward the Monti district. The whispers on the streets carried rumors that the Americans were within a mile of Rome. In days, many said, they would march into the city.

Though we had been disappointed many times before, I began to see changes in the German soldiers. They were assembling their vehicles at the outskirts of the city, ready to push north. All were on edge, and there were reports of shootings and more arrests for anyone helping the Allies. This gave me more hope. If the Germans were nervous, then the Allies were as close as the rumors suggested.

The lack of food and water had claimed many lives. The church overflowed with women and children seeking protection, and every waking moment I was not at the shop or attending the Americans, I was at the church.

As I approached Signora Fontana’s house, I saw a man standing across the street, dressed in a German SS officer’s uniform. His head was turned, but there was something familiar about him that reminded me of the man I’d seen outside the church the night I had collected the Americans. If the Germans knew about the pilots, why had they not arrested me? Was this another game masterminded by Karl Brenner?

I circled the block and entered through Signora Fontana’s back entrance, carrying a bag of bread and a few precious eggs that I’d taken from the storeroom at the dress shop. Sebastian was now adept at looking the other way. He was practical enough to know the Americans were coming, and if he could win some favored status with them, he would take it.

Inside the house, I found the signora in the kitchen, sipping hot, weak tea. “How are you?”

“Your Americans are restless,” she said slowly. “They pace all the time.”

“They are not my Americans.” I set my bundle on the kitchen table and shrugged off my dark suit jacket.

“They have a certain charm when they try to speak Italian,” she said. “It’s awful but amusing. The one named Harper tries to ask questions about you. He likes you.”

I grimaced. “He does not care for me in the least. I am a means to an end.”

The signora’s smile was slight. “You could do worse, Isabella.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked.

“You’ll need a husband. One of them might suit. I hear the Americans are rich.”

Shaking my head, I smiled. “I don’t need a husband.”

The signora drew in a deep breath. “Your child will need a father, Isabella.”

My smile faded. “What child?”

The signora rose and pressed her wrinkled hand to my belly. “I am old, but I see. Everyone else is getting skinny, and you grow fat.”

My hand slid to my slightly rounded belly. I counted back to my night with Riccardo and realized it had been some months since my monthly flow. But this had happened to me before when I’d been under stress. “You’re mistaken.”

She shrugged and rinsed her cup in the sink. “I’m going to the church. I need to pray for you to find a good husband.”

“I don’t need a husband.” I kissed her on top of her head. “But I’ll take all the prayers you have for me.”

When she left, my hands slid to my belly. The doctor in Perugia had said I might not ever conceive again. There’d been damage when my daughter had been born. She had died, and I had nearly bled to death.

A child.

The idea of another baby should have scared me, given these times. But I was not the least bit frightened. This child was a blessing.

I found the Americans sitting at the table in their room, playing cards. When I entered, they stood immediately, as if braced to fight their way out of an ambush.

“It’s only me,” I said as I set my parcel by the hot plate. “And I have eggs for you.”

“Bless you. I’m starving,” Martinelli said.

“Where did you find them?” Harper asked.

“More and more customers are paying us in goods. No one has gold.”

Harper took the eggs and moved toward the small stove. He had learned gas was scarce, and he had to cook as quickly as possible. He cracked the eggs into a bowl and with a wooden spoon mixed them until they were blended.

“We appreciate what you’re doing,” Martinelli said.

He was the friendlier of the two, and he liked to talk. She had learned he had five brothers and sisters, and after the war his father wanted him to join the family restaurant business. He also wanted to know what was happening on the streets, what areas the bombs had damaged, and any news of the American troops. I told him what I knew, realizing there was no point hiding the city’s suffering.

“The Germans are moving their trucks north,” I said. “Your Americans might arrive here soon after all.”

“Any news on the BBC?” Harper asked as he scrambled the eggs.

Harper never talked about himself, but Martinelli had hinted he came from a farming family, and he said he was one of the smartest guys he knew.

“There’s talk the Allies might land in France soon,” I said. “But no one knows when.”

“There’s been no bombings here since we arrived,” Harper said.

“Consider yourself lucky,” I said.

Harper pulled out three plates and doled out the scrambled eggs.

“None for me,” I said.

“Why not?” Harper demanded. “You need to eat.”

“Everyone needs to eat in Rome.” My stomach had been unsettled for weeks and could only be satisfied by bits of bread.

Harper did not say much, but he was always watching and keeping a close eye. “You don’t look well.”

As I smelled the eggs cooking, my belly tightened. I had blamed feeling poorly, as I had my missing flow, on the weeks of stress, knowing if the airmen were found, we would all be shot on sight. “I am tired. Everyone is tired.” I tore a piece of bread and ate it, knowing it could calm my stomach.

Harper picked up the plate with my portion of the eggs and scraped half onto Ben’s dish and half onto his own. “Enjoy.”

Martinelli bit into the eggs and closed his eyes in a moment of pure pleasure. “God, this tastes good.”

“We’ll need a plan to get out of here when the Allies arrive,” Harper said.

“And go where?” I asked. “I can assure you there are still enough Germans in the city to shoot you on sight. A shame to die when you’re so close to freedom.”

Harper stabbed an egg. “The boys are coming, and we need to greet them, let them know we are here. Hell, kill Nazis if we can.”

My stomach tumbled. “Do that now, and you’ll get shot, if not by the Germans, then by the Italian police, desperate to avoid more reprisals. There have been many roundups in the last few days. You look too American.”

“I’m proud to be American,” Harper said.

“It’s not a matter of pride but of living or dying. We do what we must. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have to retire to my room.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Harper asked.

“I’m doing very well given that my city is a battleground.”

But when I closed their door behind me, I allowed my shoulders to slump. My stomach rumbled, and I realized I was going to be sick, so I ran to the lavatory at the end of the hall. The lavatory’s smell alone was enough to upend the meager contents of my stomach.

I had no idea how long I sat there, but when I rose, I was as weak as a kitten. As I reached my door, the Americans’ door opened, and Harper looked out at me. He did not speak but simply shook his head as he closed the door behind him and walked toward me.

“You’re pregnant.”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Who’s the father?”

“Killed by the Nazis,” I said.

“No Nazi is going to get you while I’m here,” he said.

“Very kind.”

“Kindness ain’t got nothing to do with it. I owe you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Harper.”

After moving toward my room, I closed the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes and sat on my mattress. I reclined and closed my eyes, willing my stomach to settle.

I must have drifted off.

A sharp, desperate banging on the front door woke me with a start. I feared it was the Nazis, and they had come for the Americans and me, as they had come for the Biancos.

I put on my shoes and hurried into the hallway. Harper appeared, fists clenched and ready to fight.

“Stay where you are. I’ll handle this,” I said.

“Not alone.”

“Yes, alone,” I said.

A muscle pulsed in his jaw. “I’ll be listening.”

“Just be quiet.”

I hurried down the stairs to the entryway but slowed as I approached. “Who is it?”

“Mia,” she said. “Please, let me in.”

“Mia, what are you doing here?”

“Please, Isabella, let me in. If you don’t, he’ll kill me.”

I pushed back the bolt but kept the chain latched. Through the cracked door, I saw Mia standing there, a small knife gripped in her hands, her eyes red from crying and a large growing bruise on her face.

“Who did that to you?” I asked.

Mia looked over her shoulder and then back at me. “Karl. You were right about him.”

I thought about the German watching the house and wondered if Karl had sent his spies to find Mia, knowing she would come here.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?” I said. “You’ve been close to that Nazi for months.” Thinking of the airmen, I was tempted to leave Mia to the fate she’d chosen.

“It’s not what you think,” she said. “Let me in, and I’ll explain.”

“There’s a Nazi watching the house.”

“I didn’t see anyone,” she said.

I looked past her and searched the surroundings, and there was no sign of him on the darkened, shadowy street. Mia’s bloodshot, watery eyes softened my heart, and I unlatched the door.

She hurried inside the house. “Close the door quickly. I don’t want anyone to see.”

“Did he follow you here?” I asked.

“I don’t think so, but he has spies all over the city. You’re the only one that I could trust.”

I quickly looked from left to right and could still see no sign of the SS officer. After closing the door, I locked it behind me.

“Thank you, Isabella.”

“Have you eaten?” I asked.

“No. I’m not hungry.”

“You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“I’ve been moving around the city since yesterday.”

I strode toward the small stove, where Signora Fontana kept small pieces of cheese and a half loaf of day-old bread. I sliced a section of bread and cut off a wedge of cheese. Behind me, the chair scraped against the floor as Mia sat.

When I turned, she set her knife on the table.

“Where did you get that?”

“I took it from our apartment. I’ve been sleeping with it close by for weeks.” She removed her overcoat.

My gaze went immediately to the emerald broach pinned to the center of her white lace collar. “You should not be wearing that,” I said. “There is blood on it.”

“Karl insisted I wear it all the time,” she said.

“It’s a reminder that they can take whatever they want.” I stared at Mia, wondering if I had ever known her. I had always wanted to believe goodness would grow out of the immaturity, but now I was not sure.

Mia swiped a strand of hair from her eyes. “I didn’t take it from her. I swear. But when he gave it to me, what was I to do?”

“You could have thrown it in his face,” I hissed.

With trembling fingers, she quickly unfastened the broach from her collar. “And then what? End up dead like his wife? Take it. I never liked it.”

I didn’t dare touch the broach, feeling if I touched it, I would be a party to the evil that had stolen it.

Impatient, Mia set it on the table. “She would have wanted you to have it anyway. She adored you.”

“She wanted to pass it to her granddaughter one day. She wanted it to stay in the family she was so very proud of.”

“I helped you save them, you know.” When I looked surprised, a bitter smile curled the edges of Mia’s lips. “I knew Karl suspected you when he could not find the Biancos. That’s why I came here that night. Do you think I bared my breasts to those policemen by accident? I thought Sergio would faint when he saw me.”

“Why did Karl hurt you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

There was more she wasn’t saying, and I was now very tired of secrets. “It does.”

“When the Americans enter the city, then I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me now.” When she simply stared at me, I walked toward the front door. “Go to Padre Pietro. He will give you shelter.”

She followed me, catching up quickly. “I cannot go out there now. I must stay here.”

I thought about the Americans upstairs. “No. You must go.”

Mia’s finger curled into fists as she looked toward the stairs. “Who are you hiding in the house now?”

“Why did Karl hit you?” I demanded.

“You take all the broken birds under your wing. And I’m here to tell you now I’m one of them. I need a few days. The Americans will be here soon. As soon as they arrive, Karl will run, and I’ll be safe.”

She was young and selfish. “Your lover killed Riccardo. It was no accident that he took us to the Via Tasso that night.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Then why stay with such a monster! You saw how they mutilated Riccardo’s body.”

The pounding of a fist on the door shocked me into silence. As I stepped away, I turned toward the window overlooking the street and saw the black Mercedes bearing the Nazi flags. “Did you bring him here? Did you set a trap for me?”

Mia shrank back. “I went out of my way for hours, hoping to lose anyone that might be following me.”

“Isabella Mancuso!” The captain’s deep, gruff voice cut through me. “Open up immediately.”

“I was spying on him,” Mia whispered. “He knew someone close to him was whispering his secrets when so many Jews escaped arrest. He assumed his wife had betrayed him, because she was sympathetic to the Jews and jealous of me.”

“Who were you giving secrets to?”

“The Americans.”

“How?”

The fist pounded against the door, thundering through the house. Mia’s heeled shoes clicked on the stone floor as she ran toward the kitchen.

“What do you want, Hauptmann Brenner?” I asked.

“Open up this instant.”

“Do it,” Mia said from behind me. “If you don’t, he’ll summon his men. I’ll go with him. Then he might leave you alone.”

“I won’t give you to him,” I said.

Shaking her head, Mia rushed past me and opened the door. Karl stood on the doorstep, his feet braced, his hand on his sidearm. He appeared to be alone. “I’m here, Karl.”

He smiled, but there was no joy. “I knew you would run to her. I’m taking you in for police questioning, along with Isabella.”

“She had nothing to do with this,” Mia said.

“We’ll see. I would bet she’s a spy like you, my darling Mia,” he said.

“Mia is no spy,” I said, laughing. “She’s a silly girl who chooses men who are no good for her.”

Mia put herself between Karl and me. “Karl, this isn’t necessary. I’ll go with you. I’ll answer all your questions.”

Karl stared at his young lover, his eyes softening with sadness. “Do you have any idea how you have humiliated me? When Dannecker came to me about possible leaks, it never occurred to me it was you. Sweet, silly Mia. I was certain it was Greta. I believed her death would put an end to it.”

“I didn’t fool you,” Mia said, reaching out for his hand. “I love you.”

“And why should I believe you? All you do is lie.”

“I have not lied,” Mia said, dropping to her knees. “I really love you. I swear.”

He ran a hand over her soft hair. “Sweet Mia.”

“Let’s go now,” she said. “Please.”

He drew back his hand and struck her hard across the face. “You both are spies, and you both will be punished.”

I dropped to her side, shielding her body from his next blow. “She’s not a spy!”

Hauptmann Brenner’s lips curled into a mirthless smile. “My little Mia has been going through my papers. Who did you tell my secrets to?”

Mia wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. “I told no one. I was looking for money.”

Hauptmann Brenner grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. “You were working with Riccardo. He was kind enough to tell me that when we had a very candid conversation at the Via Tasso prison.”

I stilled my mind, returning to the devastation on Riccardo’s body.

“That’s right, Isabella. Every cut and every burn on his body was done by me,” Karl said. “I especially enjoyed when he cried for God to take him.”

Mia’s gaze grew dark. “Why would you do such horrors to him?”

“At first I wanted to find out about the radio. But men who are as tough as he and who confess so quickly often have something more precious to protect. I wondered who he was protecting. That’s when I found out you were his sister. And Isabella his lover.”

“Monster,” Mia whispered as she rose, her hand slipping into her dress pocket.

My restraint snapped, and I was filled with a white rage I had never experienced before. I lunged toward him, hoping I could scrape out his eyes and hurt him as badly as he had Riccardo.

Hauptmann Brenner shoved Mia hard against the stone wall and then struck me across the face. Pain radiated through my body and stunned me as I staggered back. Without hesitating, he again slapped me with such force my teeth rattled. I dropped to my knees and could not breathe as the pain spread through my body.

Hauptmann Brenner grabbed my chin and angled my face up to his. “Where are they?”

“Who?” I whispered.

He hit me again. “The Americans. The Jews. Whoever it is you’re hiding illegally.”

The taste of copper filled my mouth, and when I swiped my hand, it was smeared in blood. “I don’t know.”

“Isabella doesn’t know anything,” Mia screamed. “I’m the one you want!”

“You both are liars.” He put his face so close to mine I could see the bursts of blue in his irises. “I’ll do to you and Mia exactly as I did to Riccardo. You will leave this world in as much pain.”

He hauled me to my feet, and fingers bit into my arm as he dragged me toward the front door. Hauptmann Brenner would take me to the Gestapo prison, and by the time the Americans reached the city, I would be long dead.

Floorboards creaked above, and we all turned to see Harper and Martinelli rush down the stairs. The captain pulled me in front of him and pressed his sidearm to my temple. “That wasn’t so hard after all.”

Harper and Martinelli paused midstep, and then each held up their hands. “We’ll go. Just leave her.”

Hauptmann Brenner dragged the tip of the gun along my cheekbone, sending a chill through my body. “I’ll take you all,” he said. “I’ll kill each and every one of you, starting with Isabella.”

“Karl,” Mia said, her bruised lips forming a grotesque smile. “You and I will leave the city. Before the Allies. You have enough gold now to live a life of luxury. You said yourself you must be gone before they arrive.”

“I will be.”

Mia raised her hands and slowly moved closer, as if approaching a wild boar. “Please, Karl, let’s leave. If we go to jail, your commanders will know you were responsible for the leaks to the Americans.”

My heart thrummed in my chest as I looked at Mia, hoping she could talk some sense into the captain. As she inched closer, her hand lowered to her side. Her smile was constant, and I began to believe she might love this man. I thought about the knife on the kitchen table and wondered if she had retrieved it and intended to use it. But she gave no sign. Either way, we would all die here today if I did not at least try.

Drawing in a breath, I jammed my elbow into the captain’s belly, twisting my torso to add extra force. I connected with his gut, and tension rippled through him briefly before he recovered. “You stupid woman.”

His attention shift to me was brief. But Mia drew her knife, rushed toward him, and plunged the blade into his throat. He turned, and the sharp point sliced the corner of his neck. Howling in pain, he retreated, pressing his hand to the blood spewing from the wound.

Harper took the last of the steps two at a time and dived on the captain. He grabbed the gun, and the two wrestled with it. Martinelli jumped into the fray and started kicking and punching Brenner until he finally was forced to release the weapon.

Harper steadied himself, drew the gun, and pointed it at Brenner’s head.

“Don’t,” I said. “There will be reprisals.”

“The Allies are coming,” Harper said.

“What if they fail again? Many will die if you shoot him before they arrive.”

Hauptmann Brenner struggled to sit up, cupping his hand to his neck. “You will all be punished for this.”

“Do you have rope, Isabella?” Harper asked, as if Brenner had not spoken. “We’ll keep him locked up until the Allies arrive.”

“Nothing strong enough,” I said.

Martinelli pulled Karl’s black leather belt from its loop, rolled him on his belly, and dragged his hands behind his back. He fastened Brenner’s arms together and lashed them in place. “Isabella, is there a basement or root cellar?” Harper asked.

“Yes. Through the kitchen. I’ll show you the way.”

“We’ll lock him in the cellar and wait on the Allies,” Harper said.

“That could be days or weeks,” Martinelli said.

“So be it,” I said.

Outside the building, several trucks pulled up in front of the house, and when I looked out, I saw German tank cars.

“Did you think I came alone?” the captain asked. “They are under orders to burn this house to the ground if I do not come out immediately.”

“There is a rear exit,” I said. “I know a place where we can hide.”

“Holy Christ,” Martinelli said. “They have grenades.”

“They are good, loyal soldiers,” Hauptmann Brenner said.

I grabbed Mia as a soldier tossed the first grenade toward the door. Seconds ticked, and then another hit the front of the house and exploded. Rubble from the ceiling fell as the walls crumbled. My ears rang, and I could barely breathe as I stumbled with Mia.

Hauptmann Brenner lay on his side, several large rocks and beams pinning him down. He was still, and then he jerked his legs forward. It was too much to hope he had died.

Harper lifted me to my feet while Martinelli steadied Mia.

Coughing, I turned. “The back exit.”

As we ran, Mia rushed toward Hauptmann Brenner. Gripping her knife, she dragged it across his neck, slicing his throat. “That is for Riccardo.”

“Mia,” I shouted.

She stared at his body, her chest rising and falling, and then ran after us. Another grenade exploded.

My head was spinning as we four raced through the alley and two more grenades landed in the foyer and detonated in the house. The windows blew out, and fire ignited inside. Dizzy, I caught my foot on the cobblestones. I tripped and fell hard.

I thought about my unborn child, the babies I had buried, Riccardo, and Enzo. It seemed my child and I were soon to cross over. My world went black.

I opened my eyes, and as they focused, I saw the SS insignia on the gray uniform. Raising my arms, I lashed out. Strong hands grabbed my hands.

“Isabella!”

Aldo’s familiar voice shocked me to stillness. “Don’t fight.”

“You are German?”

He was frowning as he ran his hands over my body in a clinical, quick way and searched for broken bones. “Can you stand?”

“Yes, I think so.” I shoved a thick lock of hair off my face.

“Then get up,” he ordered.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“I’ve sent Harper and Martinelli on with Mia,” he said gruffly.

My vision refocused on the SS insignia on his collar. “How do you know their names?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Aldo said as he pulled me to my feet. I staggered, bumping into him. Firm hands wrapped around my waist and gripped my arm. “We need to get out of here.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw flames roar and consume Signora Fontana’s house. “Karl Brenner was in that building. Mia killed him.”

“Good,” Aldo said. “Good riddance.”

My arms were scratched, and my body ached as I lurched forward. “Where are we going?”

“You told Mia you knew a place.”

“The shop. In the Via Veneto. They’ve not bombed that area so far.”

“Right. Then we will go there.”