and find the map. Fine. Do you have anything else I can work with, like a description of the map or a possible hiding place?”
“The partisans have already searched his apartments from top to bottom. They also mugged him one night, but no joy. We’re assuming he still has it, though, because he’s been in contact with a banker in Switzerland.”
“But it might only exist in his head,” Vi pointed out.
Ansel hesitated. “Perhaps, but we’ve reason to believe he wears it on him somehow. Apparently not in his wallet or in his pockets, so perhaps somewhere more . . . intimate.”
“Which is why you mentioned a strip search last night.” She thought about that for a moment. “Has anyone actually set eyes on this map?”
“Only once,” Ansel said, sounding frustrated. “While my unit did intercept a courier sent from Generalfeldmarschall Kesselring to his private banker in Switzerland, the fellow escaped when a German patrol ambushed us, taking his pouch with him. When we came across him again, several days later, he was dead, and the map was gone.”
“So how do you know Sr. Conti has it?”
“We don’t. But he did recently hire twenty-some laborers in the area of Monte Soratte, which—perhaps not coincidentally—is the rumored burial place of the gold. There’s a bunker built into the top of the mountain, one that Kesselring used as a German command post for several months before pulling out. Locals said they saw cartloads of gold bars go in but never out. In addition, Kesselring ordered several sections of the bunker destroyed before leaving.”
“And where’s this monte?” Vi asked, still not sure she was following Ansel’s logic.
“Thirty miles north of here.” Ansel paused. “We also know a good friend of Conti’s was recently killed under suspicious circumstances and that this good friend was friends with Kesselring’s banker.”
“And where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Vi said, the connection starting to become clear. “So why not skip the map and search the bunker?”
“Because, while we think that’s where the gold is, we don’t know for sure. Nor can we wait Conti out, since the Nazis are getting desperate. The only thing saving him from being kidnapped is his connection to the prime minister.”
“Which won’t protect him much longer if the survival of the Third Reich is at stake,” Vi said.
“We’re running out of time,” Ansel agreed. “But that still doesn’t mean you need to do this. We can find other ways to get the map off Conti.”
Vi looked away so he wouldn’t see the sudden rush of tears in her eyes. That he was willing to risk letting it fail rather than see her get hurt gave her hope. Perhaps he didn’t hate her after all.
“You say you’ll keep Marcie safe,” she said, needing one last piece of information before she threw her life away. “But what of Luciana? It occurs to me that she could take my place, though I wouldn’t wish this role on anyone.”
“So there really is no one else but me,” she said, her hopes fading.
“Violet.” Ansel’s voice was a low, husky plea. “Don’t go tonight. Walk away. No one will blame you.”
Vi’s heart squeezed with regret and longing. She glanced up at Corporal Merritt. “May I talk to Sergeant Danger alone, please?”
Merritt checked his watch. “How long do you need? We’ve got to get back to HQ.”
“Five minutes, tops.”
“Okeydokey.” Merritt gave her a brief two-fingered salute. “I’ll wait outside.”
He winked at Ansel and then strolled off, whistling “I’ll Be Around.”
“Corporal Merritt has a funny sense of humor,” Vi said as she watched him disappear through the door.
Ansel touched her arm. “Vi, I’m serious. Walk away.”
She barely repressed a shiver, her whole body responding to his proximity. “If I do, will the gold fall into Nazi hands?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. The whole thing could be a wild-goose chase.”
“Or the map could be in Conti’s underwear. It’s a possibility we can’t ignore. I want this war over.”
“As do we all. But did you ever stop to think there might be people better trained to handle this kind of situation? Or do you think you’re somehow expendable, so it’s okay to run in and get killed?”
“Well, I . . .” She blinked, the accusation catching her off-balance.
“Dammit, Vi.” He took her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “You are not expendable. Get that out of your head, you hear? People care about you.”
She shoved him away, anger and confusion sparking within her.