When she arrived at her apartment, she only took the box with her, as she decided to leave the rest of the things in the trunk of her car.
In the evening, she called Romeo.
"Tomorrow morning, I will come in, as usual; you can arrive at three," she said.
"Amore Mio. Tell me, where were you? I started worrying when I did not hear from you for two days."
"Stop whining like a horny cat; I was in Livorno with my daughter and came back with a lot of documents. Tomorrow I will bring them to the library and go through them."
"Do you want me to come in the morning?"
"No, if I need you, I'll call."
"Good night, my love."
"Good night, jerk."
Beatrice liked Romeo; she knew he was a man with a big heart and wanted only the best for her, but she did not love him, nor was she physically attracted to him. Although the words of love he showered on her only did her good, made her feel important, but she was always careful not to let him get too near.
Tired from the past two days, Beatrice went to bed, but as much as she tried, she could not fall asleep. Even the pill that she took could not put her to sleep. She got up, poured herself a cup of chamomile extract with ginger root, took the box to her bed, and began rummaging through the family photos.
A picture of her family was the most prominent in size. She looked closely at her grandparents, so beautiful and elegant as they stood in the center with the church steps in the background. To the right of her grandmother stood an older couple, probably her grandfather's parents. On the other side stood Michele and next to him Aunt Clara, so young and smiling. Next to Clara, she saw a man in a black uniform who seemed a little older who looked at her and not at the photographer. Beatrice turned the photo over and saw the stamp "Studio Paradiso, Livorno," and in handwriting, someone marked the year: 1933.
In other photos, her parents were seen in various poses near the Eiffel Tower in Paris. She found pictures of herself and her younger brother as children when she was four, holding her brother, who was just beginning to walk. Other pictures caught her attention. She noticed Aunt Clara in a very romantic picture with a man standing behind her and hugging her around her waist as if trying to swing her into the air. She took another look and compared it to the family photo and saw that it was the same man, but he was not in uniform this time. "Aunt Clara had an affair in her youth," she said to herself with a slight grin.
The next morning, Beatrice arrived for work at the library about an hour before it opened to the public. She had brought along the box with the photos and the bundle of letters. The oil painting and the leather bag she left in the car.
She sat down and untied the bundle of letters. A letter that bore a 1933 postmark addressed to Clara Palumbo caught her attention.
It read:
Darling,
At our last meeting, I saw a spark of excitement in your eyes, and my heart soared. Do you feel about me the same as I do about you?
Hope to see you again (and this time if I'm lucky we'll be alone) and soon.
Marco.
Beatrice looked at the short letter and wondered if her Aunt Clara had had an affair with the same Marco.
"Buongiorno, amore mio, I decided to come out of curiosity even if you didn't call."
Beatrice did not respond to Romeo's words as he entered the library. He walked over to her, a silly smile plastered on his face.
"Stop with your attitude and come here, read the letter and look at the photos."
"I understand this business is getting to you."
Romeo sat down in front of her, took a handful of the photos, and sorted them into two separate piles.
"What are you doing?"
"Take a good look, all the boring pictures, a pose by the sea, a pose with scenery, I put in the pile on the right, all those that intrigue me I put on the left."
From the pile on the left, she took out the family photo and looked at it.
"And what do you see in this picture that interests you?" curiosity was evident in her voice.
"The only interesting thing is the man in the black brigade uniform standing next to the young woman and looking at her with admiration."
He turned the picture around, "Ah, 1933, the year that persecution of Jews began in Fascist Italy. Until that year, Mussolini had no problems with the Jews, but as he got closer to Hitler, his attitude changed."
"And what does this have to do with my family?"
"This is exactly the question you ask yourself every day, and we will try to answer it."
"That being the case, look at this letter." Beatrice handed him the letter that she had read before his arrival.
Romeo looked at the letter and smiled, "If it's the same person, it's starting to get interesting," he said
"Who is? What do you mean? "
"Look, in the picture you see a man in the black brigade uniform looking at Clara and in the letter there is an open admiration by someone named Marco who that year writes to Clara, If Marco is the man of the black brigade uniform, then things connect, and we must find in the archives which the people active in the black brigades were and from there dig up this Marco."
"Where do we obtain such a list?" she asked.
"From the archives at the National Library," he replied. "During lunch break, we will go there; I know Cristina very well."
"I did not doubt for a moment that you know whoever she is," she smiled, satisfied.
People began to enter the library, and Beatrice put all the material on the table back into the box.
They walked to the university campus from the Rome Termini train station, which was not far from Viale Castro Pretorio 105, the National Library's home. A half-hour walk at a fast pace is not easy at all, especially when the streets are crowded with tourists and people who have just left their offices in a rush to grab something to eat at a nearby bar. Beatrice had to stop to catch her breath every few hundred meters as she was not used to such a marathon walk.
"Lucky me, that I left all the stuff in the office," she panted. Romeo had a hard time understanding what she said.
"Did you forget to bring the stuff?" he asked as he tried to slow down.
"I said I was lucky I did not bring the material along," she shouted.
"We are nearly there; come on."
When she saw the sign pointing to the entrance of the building, she stopped to rest.
"Wait a minute; I cannot enter like this; my heart is about to explode. What you did to me is considered attempted murder".
"Stop howling like a cat that has been run over; we have arrived; rest inside," he said as he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her up the stairs into the building.
"O Mio Dio, how beautiful. Our library is a gutter compared to this."
"Our library is for cheap literature, for people who have only one lobe in their brain, or who have done a doctorate in the sale of watermelons. How can you compare?"
"Come, let's look for Cristina. She is very nice."
Cristina's office was located on the third floor of the impressive building opened to the public in 1876. She was the curator of ancient maps and had worked in the library for about five years.
"Cristina amore mio, how are you, darling?" Romeo stepped toward her with his arms outstretched as he said, "Come, my dear, give me a hug."
"How can I help you?" she asked as they sat in her office.
"We are l looking for a man from Tuscany or more precisely from Livorno, who was probably on the list of the 40th Battalion of the Black Brigades, since in each battalion, to the best of my recollection, there were between 200 and no more than 300 volunteers, correct?"
Cristina nodded and frowned to concentrate.
"The first name of the man we're looking for is Marco, and he's probably from Livorno," he added.
"I think I know where to start." Cristina said, "Wait for me, I'll be right back."
Beatrice smiled at Romeo, "I see that you have many fans."
"But only one that I like," he replied as he looked deep into her eyes.
"I'm too old; you can date girls like Cristina, who is my daughter's age."
"Why are you picking on Cristina? I am a friend of her father, I knew her when she was a child, and do I notice jealousy?"
"Do not flatter yourself. I am speaking in general, not necessarily her."
At that moment, Cristina re-entered the room and closed the door behind her. "I may not take such lists out without the supervisor's permission, so hurry up and look through them."
She opened the thick folder, which had a sticker with the description: Tuscany County Black Brigades - Vittorio Ricciarelli.
They quickly went through the lists. "Comandante Alessandro Pavolini" Romeo read the name of Livorno's group commander.
"There's a printed letter here to the Arezzo Brigades Commander, Comandante Don Emilio Spinelli. They are just instructions for searches on a particular street."
'Did you see what was written at the top of the letter? Belli come la vita, neri com la morte. It appears at the top of every letter," Cristina said suddenly.
"What did you say the name of the guy we are looking for was?" Romeo asked Beatrice while holding several documents in his hand.
"Marco," she answered.
"There is somebody here with the name Marco Pellegrini from Livorno."
"Are there any details about him?" Beatrice asked.
"No, just the full name. He is on the list of Company 41."
Romeo turned to Cristina, "My dear, it will take much more effort on your part. I need details about this, Marco Pellegrini. Can you obtain more information?"
"I will try, but it can take time. I will try in the government archives and in other sources we have. Do not forget that it has been several decades since then."
"Thank you, darling. Say hello to Dad from me and tell him I will come to see him soon."
Romeo and Beatrice took leave of Cristina and went down the street where Beatrice hailed a taxi.
"You can walk if you want, see you at the library," she said as Romeo crammed into the taxi too. "It's late, and we have to rush back to open the damn library."