The Girl From Venice by Smith Martin Cruz

Author:Smith, Martin Cruz [Smith, Martin Cruz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Mystery, thriller, War, Romance
ISBN: 9781439153192
Goodreads: 29432802
Publisher: Simon Schuster
Published: 2016-10-18T07:00:00+00:00

18

Cenzo dreamt that he was a fish in shallow water and someone was trying to skewer him with a spear. There was a great thrashing and much blood and a staccato rapping of a Mustang’s machine guns raking the sea. Hugo swam the wrong way, facing down to escape the bullets, but they swarmed around him like bees. Giorgio dove after and caught Hugo by the heels. No one could swim like Giorgio, but Hugo dragged him deeper as balls of quicksilver poured from his mouth. Cenzo bolted upright and awake.

Sleep was impossible. He dressed and left the Hotel Golfo to walk the same route Maria had originally taken him on. There were soldiers on every corner and antiaircraft batteries along the waterfront, but he went unchallenged by the curfew. Either he passed as his brother or there was an assumption among the Germans that they were all citizens of the night.

Socializing with Giorgio’s circle of friends was like taking part in a sinister farce. How had Cenzo been sucked in? At any moment he would be unmasked. Here he was, in a mountain resort that had become the world capital of lunacy.

He heard a familiar voice. “Is that you, Cenzo?”

It was Maria Paz, speaking to him from the veranda of the Argentine consulate. She was in a state of dishabille, her hair half-brushed, her bathrobe loosely tied, a woman rather than a fashion plate.

“I was just taking a walk,” he said.

“Why?”

“No good reason. I didn’t realize I was back here already.”

“That happens. Anyway, I’m up for the day. Come in and have a cup of coffee with me.” She opened the door and led him into the consulate’s reception room.

“I don’t want to wake your husband.”

“You couldn’t wake the consul with a cannon.” She turned off her desk lamp and shoved papers into a drawer. “I’m done here.”

“You still call him the consul even though you have no consulate?”

“In my eyes, he still is. I hope you don’t mind if we have coffee out on the veranda.”

She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray laden with cups and saucers and a pot of coffee. He brushed dead leaves off a table so that she could set down the tray.

“You just missed Vera,” she said.

“This early in the morning?”

“She never left. She has a lot on her mind and wanted to talk, although talking with Vera is not like having a real conversation.”

“What do you mean?” Cenzo asked.

“She’s a good soul, even if a little self-indulgent and given to fantasy. But as you can see, the population in Salò is diminishing day by day and we put up with each other.”

“I take it she’s a good friend of Mussolini’s mistress.”

“Yes, she takes advantage of Claretta’s friendship, but then Claretta takes advantage of her. She needs a shoulder to cry on.”

“Vera should put as much distance as she can between herself and Claretta,” he said. “What did you talk about?”

“It’s always the same issue: who gets to stay with Benito Mussolini and accompany him to hell.

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