Springing a Nazi war criminal with suitcase and chivalry
Why can't I die in my own country, revisiting the places that were dear to me and which have been constantly in my thoughts during all these years of prison ?
—Herbert Kappler, December 1976
It was the long mid-August Assumption holiday known as ferragosto and, except for tourists, Rome was a ghost town. But inside the big military hospital on the Caelian Hill overlooking the Colosseum, a lone middle-aged woman moved with purpose. Around 1 a.m., she paused in the doorway of Room No....
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