Marina stood outside the Hotel Savoy and searched for Captain Bonner. She had driven Belle’s car to the hotel so she could arrive separately to him. Even if Captain Bonner wasn’t interested in her romantically, she wanted to make sure he knew it wasn’t a date. The hotel was near Piazza della Repubblica, only a couple of streets away from the Duomo. Long black cars with swastika flags pulled up in front, and she wondered whether all the guests were German.
A bellboy opened the door to the lobby. For a moment, she set aside her nervousness, focusing instead on admiring the black and white marble floors, the gilt mirrors lining the walls, the chandeliers, seemingly as heavy as the roof of the Duomo itself. A glass table with a huge vase of flowers stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by sofas upholstered in burgundy velvet.
She was reminded of an evening the summer before, when her father had taken her to dinner at the Hassler Hotel in Rome after Marina had made her first sale at the gallery. Ever since she was a girl, Marina had longed to dine at the famous hotel at the top of the Spanish Steps, the destination of movie stars and celebrities. The dining terrace had breathtaking views and the food was supposed to be the best in Rome.
But when the maître d’ led them to the table, Marina had suddenly felt uncomfortable. A meal here would cost a fortune; they couldn’t possibly afford it.
Her father had ordered scallops and champagne for them both and said that good work needed to be rewarded. The next time a customer entered the gallery, Marina would remember the taste of the champagne, the elegance of the dining room, and make an even bigger sale.
‘Marina, I’m glad you were able to meet me after all.’ Captain Bonner’s arrival interrupted her thoughts. ‘I apologise for being late. I had some business at the office.’
‘I’ve only been here a few minutes,’ she replied. She wore the silver dress she’d borrowed for the Adamos’ dinner party with a pair of low heels.
Captain Bonner took her arm. The maître d’ escorted them directly to a table with an ease that suggested Captain Bonner had visited before. She waited until they had their wine, then she looked at him pleasantly.
‘It’s a beautiful hotel. Do you come here often?’
‘I’ve been here a few times.’ He shrugged. ‘Some people think a German officer’s life is filled with social functions, but it’s lonely being away from my wife and children in Berlin. The Hotel Savoy is always lively. Did you know it was built on the site of the Jewish ghetto? The ghetto was demolished a hundred years ago.’
‘The Jewish ghetto?’
‘I’ve been doing some reading on the city since I arrived. Don’t you think it’s interesting that there were no Jewish artists in Italy during the Renaissance? The Jews were more like Shylock, the money lender in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. They were only interested in lining their pockets with money. Hitler knows what he’s doing. Even six hundred years ago, Europe would have been better off without them.’
Marina felt sick. She gripped her wine glass to keep her hand from shaking.
‘The Merchant of Venice is not real life, it’s a play,’ Marina said stiffly. ‘I’m sure you’d think that about any of Shakespeare’s villains.’
‘I disagree. I found Shakespeare’s description of Shylock to be accurate.’
Marina set her glass on the table.
‘There were only a handful of wealthy Jews during the Renaissance, and they worked very hard. Most of the Jews during that period didn’t have the luxury of becoming artists. They had to earn a living to survive.’
Captain Bonner sipped his wine. ‘I disagree. The truly great artists, the Michelangelos and Donatellos, had wealthy benefactors. If there had been talented Jewish artists, they would have found patrons, too.’
Marina’s mind went to Enrico. Her father had sponsored many talented Jewish artists. Who knew how many of them would return after the war?
She tried to keep the distaste out of her expression.
‘You wanted to have dinner so you could ask my opinion on what makes a painting valuable,’ she reminded him.
Captain Bonner put down his glass. ‘You’re right, I apologise. Italy has so many important paintings, I can’t keep the names of all the artists in my head. Tell me, if you came across a Verrocchio, only a very small one, would that be something of value?’
Marina glanced down at the tablecloth so Captain Bonner wouldn’t see her jaw drop. Verrocchio was one of the most influential Renaissance artists. He’d had his own workshop with apprentices that included Botticelli and Leonardo da Vinci. But only one signed piece by him had survived, an altar piece in the Pistoia Cathedral. Any painting signed by Verrocchio, no matter how small, would be worth a fortune.
‘It could be.’ She kept her voice even. ‘It would have to be signed and authenticated to make sure it was not painted by one of his apprentices.’
Captain Bonner studied her carefully as if deciding if he could trust her.
‘I happen to have one in my quarters,’ he replied. ‘We could go there after dinner.’
Marina pretended to be shocked.
‘That wouldn’t be proper,’ she declared.
‘I appreciate your concern but I’m a happily married man.’ He smiled, dismissing her objection. ‘Don’t get me wrong, any man in his right mind would be attracted to you, Fräulein. But I love my wife very much. I’m only interested in your opinion about art.’
Marina smiled back. She was tempted by the chance to get a glimpse of the rare Verrocchio.
‘In that case, I’d be happy to take a look. But first, I haven’t eaten at such a fine restaurant since before the war. What do you suggest from the menu?’
They ate dishes that Marina hadn’t dreamed of tasting again since rationing began: Bistecca alla Fiorentina – Tuscan steak from a special breed of cow cooked very rare with roasted potatoes and beans – and for dessert, cantucci – small, almond cookies with Vin Santo for dipping. Marina wondered where the Hotel Savoy found such luxuries and how the other diners afforded it.
‘Here it is,’ Captain Bonner said, standing in his parlour.
Captain Bonner’s quarters were three rooms in an apartment building near the Duomo. They passed through an entry with a small closet. There was a galley style kitchen and a little balcony with a chair.
Marina picked up the painting. It was of an angel wearing a loose-fitting white gown and a halo. The angel stood in a field with a palm tree far in the background. A small prayer book was open in the angel’s hands. Marina remembered seeing the same painting in a textbook she studied at university. There was no signature. Without one, the painting could be attributed to any of the artists from Verrocchio’s workshop.
Captain Bonner gingerly pried off the gold frame. He pointed to the spidery writing in the bottom corner. ‘Could that be Verrocchio’s signature?’
Marina examined it closely. A thrill of excitement ran down her spine.
‘It could be,’ she replied. ‘I can’t believe no one has discovered it before. Where did you get this painting?’
‘I found it in a storeroom at the Uffizi.’ He shrugged. ‘It was under many other paintings and the frame was loose. Perhaps this is the kind of piece Hitler might want for his own private collection at the Eagle’s Nest?’ Captain Bonner asked eagerly. His eyes gleamed with excitement. If Carlos was right about Bonner’s personal collection, he had no intention of presenting the painting to Hitler. It would end up in Captain Bonner’s safe deposit box in Switzerland.
Marina’s mind went to the Nazi officers who killed her father and Enrico. She couldn’t let Captain Bonner profit from art, and she couldn’t let a signed Verrocchio leave Italy.
‘There’s always a chance it could be fake,’ she said.
‘But then why would the Uffizi have it?’ Captain Bonner argued. ‘It’s more likely that it’s an original. Somehow it got buried under the other paintings and no one knew it was there.’
The smug smile on Captain Bonner’s face confirmed her fears. He was going to keep the painting for himself. She needed to talk to Carlos. They hadn’t discussed how she was going to stop Captain Bonner.
‘Even paintings by Verrocchio’s workshop are coveted by museums. It would be hasty to jump to conclusions.’ Marina tried to sound authoritative.
Captain Bonner studied her appreciatively. He seemed to make up his mind.
‘You mustn’t be so modest, Fräulein. You came highly regarded for your expertise,’ Captain Bonner said firmly. ‘Your opinion is good enough for me.’
When Marina returned to Villa I Tatti, an unfamiliar car stood in the driveway. Voices came from the living room. She had been hoping to go upstairs without seeing anyone.
‘Marina!’ Bernard called. ‘Please, come join us.’
Bernard and Belle sat on the sofa; Gerhard Wolf across from them. Bernard and Gerhard wore black dinner jackets and Belle was beautifully dressed in a pleated evening skirt and a brocade jacket.
‘Gerhard took us to Rigoletto at the opera,’ Bernard told Marina. ‘I was going to invite you, but Belle said you had other plans.’
‘It was great fun,’ Belle piped in. ‘The best part was watching the faces of the German officers sitting near us. They couldn’t follow the story because they don’t speak Italian.’ She smiled coquettishly at Gerhard. ‘Except for Gerhard, of course. He converses in Italian like a native.’
‘Carlos and I went to dinner in Florence,’ Marina explained hastily.
She felt terrible for lying, but she couldn’t admit that she had been out with Captain Bonner.
‘I’m glad you’re getting out and enjoying yourself.’ Bernard smiled. ‘You’re so often working in the library.’
‘I enjoy it very much,’ Marina said earnestly. ‘Especially reading your scholarly works. Harvard will be lucky to have them.’
‘Gerhard has been telling us about recent developments in the war,’ Bernard said, pouring a glass of sherry and handing it to Marina. ‘The Allies have landed at Anzio and are trying to cross the Gustav Line, the German defensive line that stretches from the Tyrrhenian Sea to the Adriatic Sea. But the German army is holding firm. Who knows how long it will be until the Allies reach Florence?’
Gerhard nodded. ‘Bernard is correct, and I’m afraid rationing is going to get worse. Hitler has ordered all the supply routes cut off. He doesn’t want anything helping the Allies. Even here in Tuscany, there won’t be enough flour to make bread. And this new officer, Captain Bonner, is not making life pleasant. He’s intent on removing all the valuable pieces from the museums.
‘Hitler says it’s to keep them safe from bombing, but there’s no way to tell.’ Gerhard sighed. ‘Hitler’s private collection already rivals those of the greatest museums in Europe. Many of the pieces were taken from the homes of Jews. The Eagle’s Nest houses quite a few paintings formerly owned by the Rothschilds.’
‘Just having Captain Bonner here for coffee made me uncomfortable.’ Belle shivered. ‘It’s like inviting a snake in from the garden.’
‘I wish I could have him transferred, but I’ve already used my influence for other favours,’ Gerhard lamented. ‘I was able to have my nephew, Peter, stay with me for a while. Unfortunately, even with my position I couldn’t keep him safe from the war forever. Recently he was forced to return to Berlin. He’s fighting on the Eastern Front. My sister is frantic with worry.’
Marina almost spilled her sherry.
‘I’m sorry, did you say your nephew?’
‘Yes,’ Gerhard confirmed, brightening. ‘Peter is about your age, actually. I have a picture of him right here.’ He took out his wallet and handed her a photo of a young man with blonde hair and a dimple on his chin. ‘When he was a boy, he used to rescue wounded animals and nurse them back to health. He’s the last person who should be carrying a rifle.’
Marina’s mind reeled. The young man in the photo was Desi’s great love and the father of her baby.
So that’s how Peter was able to avoid the German army for so long. She wondered if Desi knew of the connection. Marina doubted it. Desi had only met Gerhard once, outside Peter’s apartment. And she would have said something.
‘That’s what I hate about this war,’ Gerhard said. ‘Young men should be attending university, starting careers. Instead, they have to fight in a war they might not believe in.’
Belle noticed Marina’s troubled expression and changed the subject to her costume party, scheduled for the first week in March.
After Gerhard left and Belle and Bernard had retired, Marina opened her handbag and took out Captain Bonner’s card once again. She had to hatch a plan with Carlos to somehow retrieve the Verrocchio.