Chapter 19 #3
I glanced at Oscar to see if he’d heard the laughter and voice, too.
He placed a finger to his lips and signaled that we should listen from hiding spots behind large trees.
We separated, each slipping behind a thick tree trunk, but it soon became clear that we could hear but not understand the exchange between the two men speaking Italian.
I did recognize both voices, however. The one who’d laughed was Rocco, the other Signore Scala.
It seemed Scala was still unaware of Rocco’s involvement with De Angelis and the anarchist movement. He must be, otherwise he’d have ended things with his lover. At the very least, he’d still be angry with him.
I peered around the tree trunk only to quickly jerk my head back as Signore Scala emerged from the temple folly.
I tucked my arms to my sides to make myself as small as possible and noticed Oscar do the same.
After a moment, he dared to peek, so I did, too.
Scala was walking off in the direction of the villa.
There was no sign of Rocco. He must still be in the folly.
We continued to watch until Scala disappeared inside the villa.
Oscar arched his eyebrows, asking me what we should do. Risk Rocco seeing us as we followed Scala to the villa, or remain in our hiding spots until Rocco left the folly, too?
My first instinct was to wait. But that was my anxiety dictating I take the cautious option. Once I thought it through, I came to a third option. “Wait here,” I said to Oscar. I didn’t bother to whisper.
I emerged from behind the tree trunk just as Rocco emerged from the folly, having heard my voice. He was dressed in a turquoise waistcoat over crisp white shirt. The matching tie was askew, however, and the knees of his trousers were dusty.
When he realized I wasn’t posing any threat, he leaned a shoulder against the door frame of the folly and crossed his arms. His gaze traveled the length of me then settled unnervingly on my mouth. His lips curved with his smile.
“We know you’re in bed with the anarchists, Rocco.”
He straightened, uncrossing his arms. The smile vanished altogether, replaced with wide-eyed panic. “In bed? No, no, no. Do not say that to Pietro.”
“It’s merely a phrase we English use. It means you’re colluding with someone, usually in a secret way. In this case, the secret is that you are spying on Scala and reporting back to De Angelis.”
“No! That is a lie.” He lunged toward me and grabbed both my elbows. His fingers dug into me, hard.
Oscar emerged from his hiding spot behind the tree. With a yelp of fright, Rocco released me.
“You met with De Angelis last night in the village,” I went on. “You saw us with Signora Colombo and her son. You went straight to Signore Scala to inform him, and perhaps even gave him the idea to have us arrested. You wanted us out of the village before we told Scala about your spying activity.”
To his credit, he didn’t try to deny it.
Rocco lowered his head then peered up at me through dark lashes.
If only he knew his coquettish acts were wasted on me, he wouldn’t bother.
“It is true. I did encourage Pietro to have you arrested after I saw you. I am colluding with the anarchists, but not by choice. De Angelis forced me to spy for him. He threatened to tell the Carabinieri that he saw me—how do you say in English—perform vulgar acts with men. I would be arrested. I don’t know how they treat men like me in English prisons, but here, it is very bad.
I was afraid, so I agreed to spy for him.
Please, Professore, do not tell Pietro. I love him.
I do not want to lose him. Please, I beg you. ”
“We won’t tell him,” I said. “But there’s something I want you to do in return for our silence.”
“Anything.”
“There’s a monk named Brother Eduardo at the abbey. I want you to speak to him.”
He blinked furiously. “I do not understand.”
“His nature is like yours, but he is ashamed. Perhaps there’s something you can say to him that will convince him to be more accepting of himself.”
“I do not think I can say anything to a monk that will end his shame.”
“Think a little harder. I’m sure you’ll come up with something. And in return, you have our word that we won’t tell Scala about your betrayal.”
Rocco swallowed. Nodded.
I touched the brim of my hat in farewell and set off for the villa without looking back. I ought to feel dreadful that I’d resorted to blackmail, but I didn’t. My actions may have set Brother Eduardo on the path to finding peace, and it was impossible to feel awful about that.
Oscar fell into step alongside me. When we reached the base of the villa’s front steps, he stopped me. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Gavin?”
“Quite ready. Perhaps I should be asking you that. You’ve got the main part.”
“Yes, but your part is crucial to success, too, and—”
“And what?” I prompted.
“And I wondered if you’re a bit rattled after that exchange with Rocco.”
“I’m not in the least rattled about that.
” I was, however, unnerved by the part I had to play in our efforts to get the information we needed from Signore Scala.
My part in the plan involved me doing something that didn’t come naturally—small talk.
That was Oscar’s forte. But he had a different role to play this time.
I drew in a fortifying breath, marched up the steps and knocked firmly on the door.