+49° 10' 6.46", +8° 34' 15.58"

Everything had calmed down for awhile, but now, as we pass the towns of Forst and Hambrücken, Bertha's anger erupts again. In the mirror, I can see Bruno listening to Bertha. Even though she's yelling at him, I can tell he's having the time of his life, leaning back, leaning in, taking her verbal blows like a boxing coach.

"What language is that?" I ask Lambert. "Is it Piedmontese? She's from Turin, right?"

I don't know what Piedmontese sounds like, but I'm pretty sure there is such a language—Primo Levi talked about it in his books. I figure it's a pretty good guess...

"It's Latin," says Lambert.

"Latin?" I say. "It doesn't sound like Latin... Maybe Occitan? Or Langue'doc? Those are more medieval, aren't they?" I'm really stretching here—to be honest, I have no idea what I'm talking about.

"It's Latin," says Lambert. "The way the Savoys speak Latin, when they're angry."

"You're the expert," I say. "Interesting. Savoyard Latin."

"How would you know what Latin sounds like," says Lambert.

It doesn't sound like a question, so I don't answer.

In the wayback seat, Bertha says something sharply, in a new tone, and then falls silent. I catch a glimpse of dejection on Bruno's face, and then the mirror fills with his lumbering body as he climbs forward into the middle seat.

"What happened?" I say.

"She says Conrad needs more room," says Bruno.

"How could he need more room?" I say. "He's sleeping! In a kindersitz!"

"Conrad needs more room, okay?" says Bruno. "A little privacy." His voice is kind of testy.

"Okay, okay. So was that Matilda? Matilda of Canossa? On the phone?

Lambert gives a little snort, like he's upset that I'm asking Bruno, when he already told me.

"It was the countess herself alright," says Bruno.

"Well, what did she say? How did she get Bertha so upset?"

"Just a minute," says Bruno. "There's something going on back there."

"What is it?" I say. We're entering a long curve on the Autobahn, so I've gotta keep my eyes on the road.

"She's taking out her cell phone... she's making another call... "

"Who's she calling?" I say.

"Shh," says Bruno. "I'm listening."