At the Achillion on Corfu, Commandant Buzzini was sitting behind what had been Baron von Berg’s desk, surveying the bomb damage to the study while his men searched the rest of the abandoned palace. The shattered portrait of King Ludwig II on the floor beside him attracted his attention, and he leaned over to take a closer look. For an eerie moment the Italian sensed that it was Baron von Berg himself staring out through those shards of glass, smiling at him from the Great Beyond.
“Commandant.”
“What?” Buzzini jumped up in his seat only to see Sergeant Racini standing in front of the desk.
“Sorry, Commandant, sir.”
Buzzini regained his composure and frowned. “What is it, Sergeant?”
“The Germans are sending more divisions to Greece!” Racini handed the signal from Rome to his subdued superior. “Commandant, did you hear me?” Then Racini saw the blown-out safe in the wall and the Husky report lying on the desk in front of Buzzini.
“It seems I have accidentally opened the Baron’s safe,” Buzzini explained.
“You opened SS reports?” Racini crossed himself. “They will cut our throats for this!”
Buzzini pushed the Husky report across the desk to Racini. “Read it, Sergeant.”
Racini picked up the report addressed TO THE LEADER AND CHANCELLOR OF THE STATE AND MARKED MOST SECRET. As he read it, his eyes grew wide. “Mother of God!” he cried when he finished. “It is Italy the Allies invade!”
“The Baron himself confirms this,” said Buzzini.
Racini passed back the report. “My sisters are in Palermo.”
“And they’ll probably shower the Americans with kisses when they come. Sergeant, we must think fast what to do.”
Then Buzzini thought of something else. What would happen to him and his men should the Allies attack Italy? How would the Germans react? Will we Italians be treated like allies, he wondered, or enemies? The Italian commandant knew what to do.
“For our sakes and our families, Sergeant,” said Buzzini, “we must pray the Allies land with the element of surprise.”
Racini nodded, speechless, as Buzzini struck a match and torched the report, dropping the whole mess into a wastebasket.
“I never saw this,” said Buzzini. “Did you?”
“Oh, no, never, Commandant.”
“As for this ancient text the report speaks of…” Buzzini looked around the room and saw the broken glass case in the corner. “Look over there, Sergeant.”
Racini walked over to the case and shrugged. “There is nothing here, Commandant.”
Buzzini rubbed his whiskers. “The Baron must have taken it,” he said decisively, “because it’s not in the safe.”
“Now what, Commandant?”
“Now we take care of the last remaining piece of evidence.” Buzzini rose to his feet. “Tomorrow morning the Achillion is to reopen as a hospital. See that it looks like one. As far as we’re concerned, it was never anything else.”
“Yes, Commandant.”
“And, Sergeant”-Buzzini looked up at his young aide with flashing, angry eyes-“do you swear to God to keep this a secret?”
The sergeant from Palermo crossed himself with trembling fingers and said, “To the grave, sir.”