Elizabeth Street Part 38

"I could ask Lucrezia." Giovanna couldn't believe she suggested it, but she meant it.

"Are you crazy? If she went to the police now, all this would be for nothing. If we ask someone outside the family, it has got to be someone who won't be suspicious of why we need the money."

Impressed with Rocco's thinking, Giovanna said, "That rules out Signore DeCegli." In her mind she was going through the possibilities. Were she to ask Mariano again, it would raise suspicions or questions.

"I'll get the money," resolved Rocco. "I'll get it."

Rocco saw in his wife's eyes how grateful she was, but for the first time, he also thought he saw love.

SAt.u.r.dAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1909.

"Some of the guys at the station said you kept asking for me down here," greeted Detective Fiaschetti, throwing a ball at Domenico.

"Detective! You came!" Domenico hadn't spent so much time playing ball since he was a little boy.

"Why did you want me to come? There's other guys around," commented Fiaschetti, pointing to the handful of cops who were playing with the kids.

"Well, you're Italian. There's not many Italians and, besides, you knew the great Petrosino!"

"Your name is Domenico, right?"

"That's right, detective. I was hoping you could tell me stories about Lupo."

"Why do you want to know about him?" Fiaschetti asked suspiciously.

"He's a famous crook. And didn't Petrosino want to catch him, and now you have him in jail?"

Fiaschetti looked hard at Domenico. "You're the one who wants to be the detective, right?"

"That's me," answered Domenico.

"Come on, sit down over here," directed Fiaschetti. They leaned against the gym wall. "Lupo is being brought to court on Monday for blackhanding a shopkeeper named Manzella. If you're so interested, why don't you come?"

"I will!"

"Domenico, I have a few questions for you."

"Okay." Domenico put on his most innocent face.

"Some of the detectives have noticed that things aren't so normal around your aunt's house."

"What do you mean, detective?"

"One of your cousins is missing, the others were taken out of school-and your aunt seems to be walking all over the city."

"It's nothing, detective. Angelina is in Italy with her grandparents. My aunt was having a hard time with the new baby so they sent her there. And my uncle, he thinks everyone should work," explained Domenico dismissively.

"Good job, Domenico. You just might become a detective."

Domenico looked down to hide his smile.

"Look, son, you tell your aunt that I'm here for her if she needs me."

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1909.

Hours before she expected him, Domenico burst through the door. "Zia! Manzella didn't show! It was a mistrial."

Giovanna shook her head, understanding Manzella's fear and hoping that it was fear, not death, that had kept him from the courthouse.

"Lupo got up from the defendant's seat the moment the judge said, 'You're free to go,' with a huge smile on his face. Then Lupo is surrounded by cops, including Detective Fiaschetti, and they walk him away in handcuffs. The reporters told me he was arrested again on counterfeiting charges."

Domenico's tone changed. "But, Zia, this reporter started asking questions about Angelina. He said, 'I heard your cousin is missing.'"

"How does he know?" Giovanna gasped, gripping Domenico's arm.

Domenico let out a yelp and rubbed his arm. "When I told him it wasn't true he said a librarian told him you were looking for articles on kidnapping."

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 1909.

"Come, Giovanna. Teresa is making an American turkey; you need to get out," pleaded Lorenzo.

"No thank you, Lorenzo. I'll stay here."

"Giovanna, I wish there was a way to help you."

"You've done what you can."

Lorenzo rubbed his face as he often did when he was nervous. "Sometimes I think I should have found a way to send you back." He paced the tiny kitchen. "We forced you to stay here with Rocco."

"Go back? So I could have been killed in the earthquake? So I could scratch plaster from the walls to add to the flour? It's not your fault, Lorenzo. And besides, I wouldn't have had Angelina and Anthony."

Lorenzo shuffled around awkwardly. Giovanna tried to ease his guilt.

"It was the money I sent to Scilla. Someone told them. But even so, they blackmail people with nothing. There is no understanding evil."

"Are you sure you won't come? Please?"

"No, no. Lorenzo, how many pounds is the turkey?"

"I don't know, I think fifteen," answered Lorenzo, puzzled.

Giovanna calculated. Turkey was expensive this year, thirty-two cents a pound. That was nearly five dollars that could have been ransom money.

"I'll send Rocco and the children," replied Giovanna, thinking she would at least save money on their own supper and her family would eat a little meat.

"Va bene, but I wish you would come," said Lorenzo, kissing his sister and the top of the baby's head good-bye.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 1909.

"Release Lupo," ordered the lieutenant.

Fiaschetti rolled his eyes. "Why?"

"There's not enough evidence. It was a flimsy arrest in the first place."

"Then why did we do it?"

"Look, we know Lupo's involved in counterfeiting, so the police chief wanted to prove he was doing something about it to impress the feds. But his friends in City Hall said to let him go."

"He's a wolf, but he's slippery as an eel. We'll never keep him more than a couple weeks," moaned Fiaschetti.

"I don't know," reasoned the lieutenant, "it seems different now. The chief announced today that any cop who uncovers evidence of Lupo's counterfeiting will be made a first-grade detective."

Fiaschetti whistled. "Murder, extortion, that's one thing, but when you start messing with the money, that's serious."

"Come on, get Lupo out of here."

SAt.u.r.dAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1909.

"I got the money," said Rocco, coming in the door.

Two weeks before, when Rocco said he would get the money, Giovanna believed him, and something in their relations.h.i.+p changed. He finally became her partner, and she found herself looking at him in an entirely new light. Had he failed, she would have been crushed, not only because they wouldn't have the final ransom payment, but because she would lose the new warmth she felt for him.

"Rocco, from where? You don't have to tell me if you can't."

Rocco sat down beside her. "From Dr. Bellantoni."

Giovanna kissed Rocco with tenderness. She knew that asking another man for money was, for him, the greatest sacrifice.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 1909.

"The baby is so strong, Giovanna!" exclaimed Lucrezia, examining him. "But I'm surprised you didn't name him Nunzio."

"You must need to get back for Sunday dinner," remarked Giovanna, changing the subject.

"No, I have time. I want to take a look at you, and besides, my husband is away at another conference."

Giovanna could hear in Lucrezia's voice that there was more to this, but she didn't ask questions, fearing that one confidence might lead to another. She laid baby Anthony on one side of the bed, where he poked at the air with his arms and feet, and stretched out on the other for Lucrezia's examination.

"Did you see the papers today?" commented Lucrezia, filling the awkward silence.

"No." Giovanna wished she had so she could have more of an answer, but Lucrezia good-naturedly continued on while Giovanna said a prayer of thanks that Lucrezia had the kind heart not to be meddlesome.

"Last night at the Metropolitan, Caruso sang La Traviata La Traviata with Toscanini conducting. Two Italians snuck up the fire escape and got into the balcony to hear the concert. I suppose that isn't uncommon. But what was funny was that an Irish policeman discovered them, and instead of arresting them on the spot, he locked them in a closet so he could hear the rest of the performance!" with Toscanini conducting. Two Italians snuck up the fire escape and got into the balcony to hear the concert. I suppose that isn't uncommon. But what was funny was that an Irish policeman discovered them, and instead of arresting them on the spot, he locked them in a closet so he could hear the rest of the performance!"

"I hope they heard it, too!" responded Giovanna with a forced laugh. "Did you go?"

"No. My husband left on Friday."

"So why didn't you go alone?"

"Ah." Lucrezia shrugged her shoulders. For a split second Giovanna wanted to follow up the shrug and comfort her, but once again she stopped herself.

"I'll be going. You're doing well."

"Thank you, Lucrezia. I'll come visit when the weather is better."

"You do that," answered Lucrezia with resignation, knowing full well that she wouldn't see her friend anytime soon.

FORTY-TWO.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1909.