An Evening at Home
Unfortunately, such giants also attract pygmies, who elevate themselves by association, and it is these pygmies, scarcely noticed by anyone, who eventually drag the giants down. Only Franco took the example of his colleagues and, like a good army officer, selected the best men for the work he had in Spain, bringing his country a stability it had not known for centuries. He had a much better background. Though both Mussolini and Hitler had both served in the trenches with distinction, they had never been considered officer material. Blood will out, as they say.
My Chief tugged suddenly on the wheel of the huge car, making the tyres squeal and judder. Arnaldo the chauffeur uttered a kind of gulping scream. The whole vast chassis swung in an arc as Mussolini applied the brake.
With the engine still running he grinned, panting, at me. I was still recovering from the experience and had not noticed, until the Chief pointed it out, that we had arrived at my house. I asked the Duce if he would care to come in and rest but he refused. I think there were memories he did not wish to revive at that time. He said he would wait in the car and smoke a cigarette. He asked me if I had a match.
The evening had been a confusing one for me and I planned to help myself to a quick sniff of cocaine (of which the Duce rather prudishly disapproved) and be able to continue in better mood. As I walked along the little crazy-paving path, I thought I saw two figures through the window. I opened the door and went in quietly. There was a man standing with his back to me. Slowly he was turning one of the pictures I had placed facing the wall. He adjusted it and stepped away from it. I saw that several other pictures had been turned, all of a similar style. I did not demand to know what the man was doing because I thought I recognised the set of his shoulder.
When however I coughed and he looked back rather wanly to see who it was I did not immediately recognise his face. One of the eyes was closed shut, badly bruised. The nose had been broken. The mouth was split and scabbed and most of the front teeth were missing. I felt sick. The single large brown eye regarded me with the expression of a dying horse. I knew it was Fiorello.
“The pictures,” he said. “They’re mine. Don’t you like them?”
I would not have hurt his feelings for worlds. This was the man who had done most to help me reach my present eminence. “I love them,” I said, “I was afraid the sun would get to them. “I know nothing of oils. My God, Fiorello, were you in a crash?”
“You might say that.” With a sigh he flung himself into an armchair, wincing. “A fall from grace, maybe. I’m not the golden boy I was a few short weeks ago, Max, as you probably know.”
All I knew was that his plane had been found but that he had been missing. I told him this. I said how worried I had been.
I was half-crazy with distraction, aware the whole time that the Duce himself was waiting in the car. I could not find my office keys. As I went towards the bedroom to look for them, Mandy came out. She seemed surprised to see me. “Oh, Max,” she said. “I’m not sure you want to get involved in this.”
“Involved?” I still had my momentum. I was still searching for my keys. “I’m delighted that Fiorello is safe. I have something to do that will take less than an hour and then I will be back.”
“Fiorello isn’t safe,” she said. “At least, not that safe.”
“I can’t find my keys,” I said. “Have you seen them?”
She suggested I look in the box on my dressing table. Sometimes I put them there.
“What do you mean?” I asked. There they were, in the box! I snatched them up. “Not safe? He’s here, with us!”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” she said.
“Take what? Listen, my darling, I have a car waiting. It is very important that I leave immediately. Take what?”
“Fiorello’s on the run,” she said. “He was caught coming back from Switzerland. He never made it to his plane. They kidnapped him. Beat him up. One of them was De Vecchi, the Education Minister!”
I agreed it was terrible, but was glad he was safe now. When I turned to leave, Fiorello was standing in the doorway, his lopsided, hideous face looking like something you would find in a charnal house, scarcely human at all. “I don’t expect you to help,” he said. “I was trying to get Laura to safety. She’s all right now. She’s in Austria I’m sure.” He shrugged and glanced away. “Bloody commy.”
“You helped a communist?” I asked disbelievingly. Suddenly the enormity of the situation struck me. My legs lost their power to hold me. l I sat down on the couch. Outside, with his motor running, was the supreme Fascist. Inside, a supreme traitor to Fascism. Should they meet, I would be irredeemably compromised. But there was nothing I could do, save dash back out to the car and hope Mandy had solved the problem by the time I returned. I began to give up any idea of going on to the private party.
