THIRTY-FIVE.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1909.

Giovanna had spent all day Thursday pacing the small apartment waiting for word. The second she heard a sound in the hall, she would throw open the door, only to startle a neighbor. At the call of the iceman, she ran to the window and asked if he had anything for her.

"I have a big block of ice."

"No, I mean an envelope."

"Signora, I am the iceman, not the postman."

Today, Rocco had left the house at dawn, only to return minutes later. Handing the letter to Giovanna, he said, "It was in my empty cart."

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Giovanna shook and wept. Rocco tried to comfort his wife, his large hands patting her shoulders.

"What about going to that lawyer and getting the rest of the money?" asked Rocco.

"I tried, yesterday. Signore DeCegli became suspicious. He showed me in the contract where it said that the money can only be paid on the dates in the agreement."

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1909.

Padre Luongo exited Our Lady of Loreto and was surrounded by a gang of children tugging at his vestments. Mary noticed the group from afar and watched them come toward her. One little boy was shouting, "Padre, Padre, it's my birthday!" The priest stopped, dug into his robes, and produced a gleaming nickel, which he placed in the boy's hand. The children surrounded him and then ran off together in the opposite direction.

The priest, now alone, pa.s.sed Mary. She ran a couple of feet to catch up.

"Padre, you give all children a nickel on their birthday?"

"If they ask."

"It's my birthday, Padre."

"Well then, here's a nickel for you. Happy birthday, my child."

Mary made the sign of the cross. The priest smiled at what he thought was her piety.

"Please, G.o.d, forgive me, but I know you'll understand," Mary muttered.

SAt.u.r.dAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1909.

Giovanna cleared the dinner table and retreated to her bedroom. She dropped to her knees before the shrine she had created of candles flanked by statues of the blessed mother and Saint Rocco. Balanced on the top of the largest candle was a prayer card depicting Saint Anthony, patron saint of the lost. From the moment Giovanna knew Angelina had been kidnapped, not an hour went by that she didn't beseech Saint Anthony for the safe return of her daughter.

A knock at the door interrupted her prayers. She heard Rocco tell her upstairs neighbor she was resting. Giovanna remembered that this was one of the women on the stoop.

"No, no, I'm awake," declared Giovanna, coming out of the bedroom.

She brushed past Rocco and into the hall with her neighbor. "Excuse me, signora, we just ate and the kitchen is a mess," apologized Giovanna, closing the door to the apartment.

"See, you're a good, proud woman, not like that puttana, Limonata. That's why I stopped by. I saw that boyfriend of hers, Leo!"

"Did you see Limonata?" Giovanna blurted.

The neighbor's gossipy tone and expression changed at Giovanna's outburst. "No, signora levatrice..."

"Oh, I am sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. It's just that...we're finding she took more than the beer pitcher."

"Really! Well, he claims that he doesn't know where she is. He acted like he didn't even know her. He was going into an apartment, so I waited and asked someone if he was living there with a woman and a young girl. But they said he was a boarder in the building."

"Where was this apartment?"

"Sixty-six Hester Street. But don't bother, signora. She's not there, and that Leo is a mean one. He scared me. The only reason I stayed to ask questions is our super offered a few dollars if we got him Limonata's address."

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1909.

Giovanna waited on the east end of Hester at Mulberry Street and Rocco at the west end at Baxter. They arrived before sunrise, and with the dawn came rain.

After an hour, Rocco ran through the rain toward Giovanna, shielding his head with his coat. Reaching her, he grumbled, "We don't even know if he has anything to do with this. I should just go and knock on his door. I'll beat him if he doesn't talk."

Giovanna answered with little patience. "If he's involved he may say nothing, and then we'll never know where she is! If you follow him, he can lead you to her, Rocco. Just do what we planned!"

As Rocco walked back in frustration, Giovanna wiped her eyes. It was going to be extremely difficult to spot this Leo in the rain. Another hour pa.s.sed. She could see Rocco pacing.

The first man to exit the building was stocky. It was the fourth man who'd left the building that matched the description. He was using a piece of cardboard as an umbrella, so Giovanna couldn't see his eye, but he was tall, skinny, and dark. Rocco noticed him, too, and took pursuit. Giovanna swept into the building, shaking herself off in the vestibule.

At the apartment on the right, she listened at the door. It sounded like a family was eating breakfast. At the apartment on the left, she heard nothing but knocked, calling, "Limonata!" She did the same thing on the second floor, and an apartment door opened.

"Signora, can I help you?" asked a woman.

Fl.u.s.tered, Giovanna quickly composed herself. "Oh, yes, I'm a midwife."

The woman glanced at her stomach, confused.

Giovanna forced a little laugh. "Sometimes even midwives have babies."

The woman smiled.

"No, I seem to be getting forgetful with this pregnancy, and I've lost the address of a woman I was attending to on this block. I thought this was the house."

"There's no Limonata in this building, signora. It can't be this house."

"Oh, grazie. You know, I just saw a man exit that looked like the father. Tall, lidded eye?"

"No, that must have been Leo. He's a boarder who lives on four."

"Now I'm not only forgetful, I can't see so well!"

"You're wet. Do you need a cup of tea?" offered the woman.

"Thank you, signora. But I really must find her."

Giovanna sat at their apartment window waiting and watching for Rocco. In the distance she saw a man running through the rain. He crossed the street in the middle and headed straight for their building. Giovanna's heart pounded. Surely this meant news. Had Rocco found Angelina? Was Rocco dead? She paced in front of her door and opened it before the man reached her landing. Breathing deeply, she tried not to let her anxiety show. She recognized him, but from where? When his entire face lifted, she knew the dramatic mustache and hazel eyes.

"Signora! The photos have been ready but you haven't picked them up," exclaimed the photographer, taking a package from inside his jacket and handing it to Giovanna. "After all, they are paid for and I wanted you to have them."

Giovanna stared at the package.

"Signora, are you going to take them?" The man was still holding out his hand.

She gingerly took the photographs wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.

"Don't you want to see them?" asked the man with a hint of pride.

Trying to control her tears, Giovanna stammered, "I'll open them with my daughter. She's out with her father. Thank you. Thank you for delivering them." The photographer was left standing outside the door.

Two hours later, Rocco arrived home. He looked away from his wife's pained face and mumbled, "I lost him."

THIRTY-SIX.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1909.

There was nothing else for her to pursue, so Giovanna watched Leo's apartment from the corner of Hester and Mulberry day and night. She had become so accustomed to not seeing him that she nearly missed him when he stepped out of the door. Leo looked up and down the street before heading west away from Giovanna.

In three short blocks he was on Lafayette and then turned left to the Ca.n.a.l Street Station of the underground railway. Keeping her distance, she saw him descend the stairs to the uptown platform. Hundreds of people mobbed the station, and Giovanna was reminded that the big American Hudson-Fulton parade was scheduled at one o'clock on Fifth Avenue.

Fumbling for change, she got a ticket and waited at the opposite end of the platform. She didn't think the man had noticed her, but cursing her height and size, she pulled her gray shawl tight and high around her in an effort to be less conspicuous.

In seconds, a train thundered into the station. Giovanna stiffened. She was so focused on her pursuit of Leo that until that moment she had forgotten that the only other time she had ridden the underground railway, she vowed fearfully never to do it again. She entered the car adjacent to Leo and remained standing where she could see him through the car window. The train went all the way to Rector Street before he exited. At street level, he checked his pocket watch and headed to Trinity Church.

Entering Trinity's cemetery, Leo sat on a bench under an oak tree. Giovanna lingered at the outskirts of the graveyard, pretending to look at the church. The sky was blue and the day was warm. The next time she took a glance, another man, this one considerably better-dressed, sat beside Leo. His hands, noticeably untouched by labor, opened his newspaper in front of a face framed by groomed sideburns. In the same motion, the man laid an envelope on the bench between himself and Leo. Leo nonchalantly picked up the envelope and walked away.

He didn't go far. He leapt up the steps of a tall building next to the cemetery. Through the gla.s.s doors Giovanna could see a long, narrow marble corridor with ornate carvings on the ceiling and Leo waiting at the rear bank of elevators. When he stepped into an open lift, Giovanna hurried into the building. The door to Leo's elevator closed, and Giovanna watched the numbers light as the lift ascended.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" questioned a guard, eyeing her suspiciously.

The words were foreign, but Giovanna knew he wanted to know where the Italian woman was going. A board with names and numbers faced the elevator. Giovanna picked one with an "Esq." at the end, like Signore DeCegli's name. She pointed to the name on the board, smiling.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Schmidt, the attorney. That would be the nineteenth floor."

Giovanna smiled and continued to watch the numbers. The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor. She waited anxiously for the car to come back down. When the doors opened, a number of people streamed out, and Giovanna was about to get on when she saw Leo at the back of the car. He didn't exit the elevator, and she didn't enter. The doors closed again. This time it went down to a floor labeled "TP." Another elevator opened and Giovanna entered, motioning down to the elevator operator. In seconds she was down a floor in time to see Leo exit the building's back doors onto Trinity Place.

She didn't follow immediately because when the elevator door opened, she thought Leo might have seen her face. She followed him down Trinity Place back to the Rector Place underground station, keeping farther behind than before. As Leo entered the uptown train, she stepped in the car behind him.

Was he trying to lose her? Or was he trying to avoid being followed? If someone was watching him, then they must also be watching her, and for the first time Giovanna was as afraid of what was behind her as what was in front of her.

On the train she could see Leo's shoulder through the car window. Her ankles were swollen, and the veins in her legs were throbbing. Mercifully, Leo didn't get out right away. He exited at Bryant Park, walked upstairs, and switched to the Sixth Avenue El.

The parade had already started. Throngs of people clogged the sidewalks. She had never seen such a large crowd in her life-this was a hundred times the size of a feast-in Scilla or New York. When they reached the last stop at Fifty-eighth Street, she saw the tops of floats half a block long squeezing down Fifth Avenue.

Trying not to be distracted by the pageantry, Giovanna followed Leo east to Fifth Avenue. The streets were so packed with exuberant crowds that Giovanna no longer had to worry about keeping her distance, but instead was trying desperately not to lose Leo in the mult.i.tude.

"Get your souvenir programs here!" shouted a man, holding a sack like a newsboy. Leo flipped him a nickel and, rolling the program under his arm, headed downtown at Fifth Avenue, parallel with the parade.

To get through the crowd, Giovanna walked on the innermost portion of the sidewalk, but between her height and the immense size of the floats, she was able to see an old ship manned by people in costume sail down the street. On its side was painted HALF MOON HALF MOON. Teams of horses pulled the floats, and each horse was covered in a red blanket st.i.tched with an H H and an and an F F.