Legacy of Sorrows (36 page)

They continued up the slope with caution until they could see someone in a prime position firing down on two figures lying down flat in the undergrowth. Enzo drew his weapon and moved stealthily forward towards the shooter. ‘Stay here Angelo, you don't have a weapon.' Angelo smiled and pulled out of his anorak pocket the old Beretta, ‘this is my service revolver and I've kept it in good condition.' ‘You can charge me later for not having a licence for it, but right now I'm going to help my boy.' Enzo saw there was no way he was going to stop him helping, so he merely said,' Take my lead Angelo, okay?'

They moved forward in an open formation towards the shooter so that they were converging in on each side of him and when Enzo thought they were in a good position and close enough, he called out, ‘police, cease firing and throw down your weapon.' The shooter seemed to freeze when he heard Enzo's voice. Enzo repeated, ‘if you don't put down your weapon we will open fire.'

The shooter knew he was cornered., trapped. All his careful planning had come to this moment. Was that the voice of Enzo Capaldi shouting on him from behind? What irony, he thought, the fat man himself. Realising the impossible position he was in he knew he had no choice but to surrender to the police. He also decided to drop his veneer of urban charm and good manners that had served him well, and be the man he knew he was.

The shooter laid his rifle on the ground, and waited on his next instructions. ‘Stand up slowly and raise your hands above your head now.' The shooter stood up slowly and did as he was told. ‘Now, turn and face me,' said Enzo, keeping his gun trained on him. The shooter hesitated at first, and then slowly turned to face the two men. Angelo let out a gasp of astonishment as he recognised the man in front of him; Carlo Togneri.

Enzo also recognised Carlo. At first they were too taken aback to speak, until eventually Angelo said, ‘Why Carlo? You of all people, you were my old friend.' Carlo spat at the ground. His eyes were ablaze with a fanatical zeal that was far removed from his usual calm appearance. ‘What do you know of friendship, you and your fascist ways of old? Friendship to you is leaving your country when it desperately needed your help in rebuilding it from the ruins of your fascist war. You thought of your own needs over those of your country. Even you Enzo, after the war you scorned the call of the people for a more just society, and became an American lackey in their police state, so don't speak to me of friendship.' An astonished Angelo and Enzo listened to the deranged tirade in silence. Carlo was obviously extremely unbalanced and very dangerous.

Carlo continued, ‘and what of the friendship displayed by the German and Fascist forces in the north of Italy with over seven hundred separate massacres of Italians to their name. You seem to forget as the Allies fought the Germans that we had a bloody civil war here at the same time with countless thousands killed or starved to death.'

Angelo shook his head in desperation; He saw that there was no reasoning with this man, who was very clearly deranged. ‘There was brutality on both sides Carlo, there are only victims in war and today Italy needs healing from those memories if we are to be a united nation.'

Enzo, having recovered from his shock of seeing Carlo, moved forward to handcuff him and just at that moment his foot caught in a tree stump in the undergrowth. He lost his balance for a second, but this was all the time Carlo needed. For such a big man he moved forward with tremendous speed and agility. He threw himself at Enzo and grabbed his gun arm. Enzo tried to fight back but he still wasn't recovered from his climb up the hillside. They wrestled for a few moments until Carlo seized Enzo's pistol and pulled him in front of him as a shield. ‘Drop your weapon Angelo;' he shouted, holding the pistol to Enzo's head. ‘I will have no hesitation in shooting Enzo if I have to.' Angelo, who all this time had been trying to line up a shot, quickly weighed up the situation. If he dropped his weapon, Carlo would probably kill them both. If he didn't, then Carlo would kill Enzo. He dropped his weapon on the ground and raised his arms above his head, hoping for an opportunity to overpower him.

Carlo knew that if he wanted to escape without any pursuit he would have to kill the two men in front of him. He aimed his pistol at Angelo. ‘Sorry Angelo' he said with mock sadness, ‘I wish it could be otherwise.' He cocked the pistol and his finger put pressure on the trigger.

A shot rang out and Carlo dropped to the ground with a large hole appearing to grow in his chest and a surprised look on his face. Angelo looked down at Carlo, marvelling at the bloodstain spreading slowly across his body. ‘What happened, who shot him?' He said in amazement.

Anna appeared from the woods, still aiming her pistol at Carlo's body as she bent down to take his weapon. She felt his pulse before looking up and saying to the still stunned men, ‘he's dead, and it's all over now.' She ran to Enzo, hugged him with relief, and kissed him. She was still shaking with emotion as she said, ‘I heard loud voices coming from over here so I crawled over to investigate. I moved slowly through the undergrowth hoping that the shooter wouldn't see or hear me and when I saw Carlo holding Enzo I positioned myself behind him, stood up and fired.' She turned to face Angelo, ‘Marco's been shot and he's lying on the ground back there.' She pointed behind her. ‘I think he's unconscious.'

Enzo thought for a moment, ‘go down and radio in for assistance Anna, you're the fittest one here. We'll go and see what we can do for Marco.'

At that, the two men, rushed over to where Marco was and did their best to stem the flow of blood from his arm. Angelo used his trouser belt as a tourniquet on the injured arm. At the same time Enzo, using his pocketknife, began to cut some wood for a makeshift stretcher. The two men used their shoelaces to tie some cross bars to the frame, and after ten minutes or so, they were finished. They gently lifted Marco, who was still unconscious, onto the stretcher. Angelo then lifted the briefcase and placed it at Marco's feet. They then lifted the stretcher, and slowly carried him down the hillside, with Angelo leading the way. Their progress was quite slow as they were careful to avoid tripping over anything in their path.

Just as they reached the road, they heard the sound of sirens. An ambulance and two police cars were speeding towards them. They lowered the stretcher and waited on the vehicles reaching them. Instinctively, Angelo took the briefcase from the stretcher.

The ambulance pulled up beside them and they were both surprised when they saw Anna getting out of the front. ‘I met them at the car park below and jumped in to show them where you were. How is he?'

No one answered her. They lifted Marco gently into the ambulance. Angelo then climbed inside, still clutching the briefcase. With the siren blaring they were about to move off when there was a loud banging noise on the back doors. When the attendant opened them, Anna was standing there with tears streaming down her face. ‘Please let me come with you in the ambulance Signor Corti, I love your son and I don't want to leave him like this.'

Angelo was visibly moved. He gave Anna his hand and helped her climb in. He looked at her tear-stained face and reddened eyes and felt unexplainably close to her. He hugged her and said ‘You love my son?' She stopped crying and said to him, ‘yes, I really do.' Angelo nodded and turned to the driver saying, ‘Ok, let's get my son to the hospital.'

Enzo, who had stayed behind to direct the removal of the dead terrorist's body, pulled another cigarette from a packet and put it between his lips. With a practised flip of his Zippo, he lit it and revelled in the private cloud of smoke billowing from his nose. He drew deeply on the cigarette until the lit end glowed deep red.

How had it come to this? He thought. Eight people killed over some letters from people who are long dead. He thought of the hours of report writing he had in front of him, and the endless meetings with SISI and his own superiors because of these damn letters. He drew deeply on his cigarette and cursed. He was retiring next year and his only thought was for a quiet time, and now this. He wondered if it would have been any different if he had managed to have that talk with Carlo before all this started. Perhaps it may have changed things, who knows. With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled out another cigarette.

Through the cloud of smoke, he reflected on Togneri's role in recent events. Who was he representing? Was he Red Brigade or not? He remembered a story a Mafioso he arrested some years ago had told him. The Mafioso had said there was someone high placed in the Lucca Carabinieri who was a Made Man in the Cosa Nostra, and who had infiltrated the Red Brigades posing as an activist. The allegation was that he, under orders from his Don, had been using the Red Brigades as the Mafia's private assassination squad whenever they required someone done away with. The police investigation that would then follow focused on the Red Brigades, and the Mafia, as usual, stayed silent in the shadows.

Enzo wondered if the story was true. Internal Affairs had investigated the allegation, but had found no evidence to support it. He laughed at this. He well knew that there was nothing, simply nothing that happened in Italy without the knowledge or consent of the Cosa Nostra, or Our Thing. The organisation without a name.

Enzo pulled out another cigarette, and wondered what truth was. His father used to say that in an argument the truth had three sides to it. Both parties presented their interpretation of it, and then there was the true truth.

He threw down his cigarette and again thought of the report writing and endless meetings in front of him. What he didn't need was another can of worms opened up regarding some speculation, without evidence, of Cosa Nostra involvement. He drew another cigarette from his pack and decided to let sleeping dogs lie. He wasn't about to take on the Organisation himself.

Chapter 16

S
pring
had turned into summer and Marco stood at the window watching with delight the antics of the birds playing in the trees. It felt good to be alive, and especially today. Anna was coming to the hospital to pick him up for the ceremony taking place at the town hall in Lucca,

He was being decorated with the Order of the Cavaliere Della Merita by no less a person than the President of the Italian Republic. This was the closest to a British Knighthood that the Italian State could bestow on one of their citizens and Marco was thrilled to be considered for this award.

After the shooting, he had been taken to the intensive care ward at Lucca hospital, where he had remained unconscious for three days. During that time the doctors had fought hard to save his life. He had lost a lot of blood and his wound had become infected. The Doctors thought they would have to amputate his arm, and had told his parents and Anna to be prepared for the worst. Slowly he had responded to the treatment, and the arm was saved. That had been six weeks ago and now he felt ready to carry on with his life. The wound in his arm was healing well. He knew that he had lost part of the muscle and that it would never be the same again, however, he was alive and in love. He adjusted the sling around his neck slightly.

Anna had been to visit him every day, and they had spent many hours alone in the ward talking about the future. He had made up his mind that this was the day he would ask her to marry him. They were deeply in love and couldn't bear to be apart from each other. He planned to ask her after the ceremony and he wanted it to be a big surprise to her. He loved her with all his being. He was sure of this, not for the joy he felt when they were together, but for the ache in his heart when they were apart. He knew for sure that this was true love and he was sure that she felt the same towards him. He had been planning the surprise for a few days now, and had even asked a jeweller to visit him in the hospital to show him some engagement rings. He had finally made his choice. A single diamond solitaire on a gold shank.

Anna looked even more stunning than usual. She was wearing a light blue two-piece suit, with a matching hat. The skirt, almost reaching her knees, showed off her long slim legs and the overall impression was one of beauty and elegance. She was also wearing diamond earrings with a matching pendant that had belonged to her mother.

The events of the last few weeks had disturbed Anna more than anyone realised. Being involved in the recovery of the letters and in the deaths of so may people had led her to question her role in the Carabinieri. A few days ago, she had come to the decision that she needed to resign from the force and take some time off to consider her future. However, all that was for another time. Today was a celebration.