The Garden of Letters by Alyson Richman Page B

deliver our messages. We have been clever in finding techniques to do that in the past. But the distances we now need to travel are getting longer. A simple bicycle run, with a piece of paper inside a handlebar, is fine for a short distance. But there needs to be something we can use that that can be transported longer distances, between cities . . .”
    There is grumbling in the room.
    “No need to discuss this between yourselves. You see, I have come up with an idea.”
    There are three books stacked in front of him. He takes the first one from the pile and lifts it in his hands.
    “We all know what this is.” Luca places his hand reverently on the cover. “For centuries, writers have used books as a way to transport their ideas and thoughts.” He opens the book to its midsection. “But, actually . . . and I know this will surprise many of you, I think there are many other ways to use them for our cause, beyond just the stirring words that have been printed.”
    “In this book, I’ve taken a knife and cut out twenty pages from the middle. I then cut new pages, exactly the same size, that contain mock messages, and glued them inside so they merge seamlessly with the original pages.”
    He closes the book. “I’m now going to pass it around, and I want you to give me an honest answer if you would have noticed, upon first inspection, the new pages.”
    Silence sweeps through the room. Each person who touches the book and leafs through its pages is hard-pressed to identify the new ones that Luca has inserted.
    “It’s also possible to use a book as a way to carry a secret code.
    In this book, you’ll notice I have added some letters at the base of every tenth page. One could use letters, numbers . . . or even a combination of both, using this seemingly innocent object as a vessel of sending additional information.”
    Luca opens up the book and shows everyone how he had threaded the words
Il Gufo
through the book by placing one letter every ten pages. “This is a one-to-ten ratio, but it can be adjusted to one letter on every fiftieth page, or even every seventy-fifth.”
    Elodie can feel her entire body shoot with electricity as he speaks. When the first book Luca sends around the room reaches her, she places her hand on the cover just as he had, as if that gesture could somehow connect them.
    The others react just as enthusiastically. “That’s brilliant, Luca,” someone shouts. Another person applauds his creativity in finding a solution. Elodie strains her ears to see if anyone isn’t impressed. But everyone seems bolstered by Luca’s ingenuity.
    “I’ve saved the best for last,” he finally says to calm the room. A single book now rests on the table before him, as the first two continue to circulate through the crowd.
    He picks up a larger book, this one clearly heavier and more substantial. “I took this one from of a series of volumes I have stacked on those shelves back there . . .” He points to a tall wooden bookcase replete with several rows of large books.
    He pauses for a moment before parting the center pages with his thumbs. The book opens like a large butterfly. On one side of the book, within the thickness of at least two hundred pages, is an expertly carved niche. And inside is a pistol.
    “Clearly, this wouldn’t be used for travel. The controls are too tight, but I think it’s a good way for us to think about storing what guns we have. I can place several of these books side by side on a shelf in this very storeroom.”
    The room is now buzzing with excitement. Beppe comes over and pulls the gun from the cut-out pages.
    Elodie cannot believe her eyes. She looks at Lena, who sits in her chair, too completely transfixed at what Luca has just shown her.
    She turns to Elodie and whispers in her ear, “Well, he’s certainly more than your average bookseller.”
    Elodie is speechless. But inside she is thinking the exact same thing.

SEVEN

    Verona, Italy
    M AY 1943
    After