“Padrone, Detective Sergeant Malloy has come because he has something important to discuss with you,” Gino said.
“I am sure it is about my family,” Ruocco said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You probably know by now that Tammany is behind the riots,” Frank said.
Ruocco nodded once, his eyes hard and suspicious. “I have heard this, yes.”
“They want to show everybody that they can keep the Italians in their place.”
Ruocco’s smile disappeared. “Have you come only to tell me what I already know?”
“No, I came to ask you to put an end to the trouble.”
“I have men guarding the restaurant,” Ruocco reminded him impatiently. “They could not stop it.”
“Tammany Hall wants Nainsi’s mother to have the baby.
If that happens, the riots will stop.”
Ugo considered this for a moment. “One small baby to cause so much trouble,” he mused. “But we cannot trust them. They also say my family killed Nainsi to get the baby.
They will want the murderer, and they will not stop until they get him.”
“The police would like the murderer,” Gino said, completely violating his agreement with Frank to keep his mouth shut during this discussion.
“If we found the killer,” Frank clarified quickly, “then Tammany wouldn’t have any reason at all to cause more trouble.”
“Tammany will always cause trouble,” Ruocco corrected him bitterly.
“But they’d cause it for someone else’s family,” Frank said.
Ruocco saw the logic in this, but he was unmoved. “Poor Maria, I told her to give the baby to that woman, but she would not. If I take the boy now, her heart will break.”
Frank didn’t think Ruocco cared a whit for Maria’s broken heart. “The only other way to get them to call off their dogs is to punish the killer, then,” he said, knowing Ruocco would never agree to that.
“Yes,” Ruocco said wisely. “That is what we must do.”
Frank didn’t bother to hide his surprise, and Gino’s jaw actually dropped before he caught himself and snapped it shut again. Frank recovered first. “Are you telling us you know who killed Nainsi?”
Ruocco smiled. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “I will tell you what I know. I know my brother’s wife hated the girl. She made Antonio a fool. He married a whore and gave his name to her bastard child. The girl hurt one of Patrizia’s children, and Patrizia will do anything to protect her children.”
“Most women will,” Frank noted.
“Will most women kill? Patrizia killed my brother to protect her children,” he said, and the loathing in his eyes chilled Frank.
“Are you saying she murdered her husband?” Frank asked in disbelief.
“She sent him back to Italy to die alone so her children could stay here,” Ruocco said. “It is the same thing.”
Not exactly, at least to Frank’s way of thinking. This sounded more likely than outright murder, and it certainly didn’t make Patrizia Ruocco a killer. “Did Mrs. Ruocco kill Nainsi?” Frank asked.
“I am telling you what I know,” Ruocco reminded him sharply. “Do you think the boys do something without Patrizia knowing? Do you think Maria or Valentina can kill like that? No, only one in that house can kill. Patrizia, she is the one.”
10
“Do you really think Mrs. Ruocco killed the girl?” Gino asked as he and Frank made their way back to Headquarters.
“Ugo wants us to think so. What was he talking about when he said she sent her husband back to Italy to die?”
“I don’t know. She’s been a widow as long as I’ve known her.”
Frank reviewed what Ruocco had told them. Frank had considered Mrs. Ruocco a suspect, of course. She had a good reason to want Nainsi dead, the same reason everyone else in the house had. What Ruocco said about the boys was probably true, too. They’d do only what she told them, unless some irresistible passion drove them. If any of them was capable of an irresistible passion, Frank hadn’t seen any evidence of it yet.
“You can’t believe Mrs. Ruocco did it,” Gino was saying.
“She’s a woman.”
“Women can kill,” Frank assured him. “They do it for different reasons than men, but they do it just the same.”
“Whores do,” Gino argued. “But not respectable women like Mrs. Ruocco.”
Frank sighed at his naïveté, but he let it go. “Do you know anybody who’d remember the story about what happened to her husband?”
“My mother might. Do you want me to ask her?”
“Yeah, I do. How soon can you talk to her?”
“Right now, if you want. I’m off duty.”
Frank looked at him in surprise, pleased at his dedication to pursue this case on his own time. “Good. Find out everything you can, then come and tell me. I’ll be at Headquarters doing some reports.”
Gino gave him a mock salute and headed off at a sprint.
Frank sighed, wondering if he’d ever been that young and eager. He reached the corner and glanced down the street toward Mama’s Restaurant. Everything seemed peaceful enough in the waning evening light. A movement in the shadows caught his eye, and a uniformed patrolman stepped forward.
“ ’Evening, Detective Sergeant,” he said.
“ ’Evening, Officer. Keeping an eye on things?”
“Yes, sir. Commissioner Roosevelt, he ordered that we station a couple of men down here in case there’s more trouble. He wants to be sure we get officers down here quicker than we did last time . . .”
“I doubt you’ll see another mob so soon,” Frank assured him. “Most of the troublemakers from last night are still recovering. But if anything does happen, anything at all, let me know. I’ll be at Headquarters.”
“You’ll be the first to hear about it then,” the officer promised with a grin.
In the silent, deserted room where the detectives had their desks, Frank was feeling sorry for himself. Grumbling about the paperwork, he was wishing he’d gone home to have supper with his son when Gino found him. He’d changed out of his uniform into casual clothes and a soft cap, and as usual, he looked much too excited.
He set a paper sack down on the desk in front of Frank.
“My mother sent you some supper.”
Frank’s stomach growled in response to the aroma of garlic and fresh-baked bread. He tried not to look as grateful as he felt as he pulled open the sack to peer inside.
“What did you find out?” Frank asked. Inside the sack were two thick slices of bread covered with tomato sauce and melted cheese. Frank pulled one out and took an enor-mous bite. It tasted even better than it smelled.
“I found out that Patrizia and Ugo hate each other.”
Frank swallowed. “We already knew that,” he reminded Gino grimly.
“Yeah, but now I know why they hate each other.”
“The protection money,” Frank guessed.
“Oh, no, it’s about her husband. A story I never heard before.”
Frank sighed. “I’m betting it’s a long story.”
“Not real long,” Gino said with far too much glee, pulling up a chair next to Frank’s desk. “You see, Ugo came over from Italy first, about twenty years ago. Back then, a lot of men came over to work for a few years and send money home. When they saved up enough to buy some land there, they’d go back to Italy. Most of them never intended to stay here very long.”
Frank couldn’t understand why somebody would prefer a foreign country to America, but there was no figuring out Italians. “Let me guess, Ugo decided to stay.”
“Yeah, he found out he could be a big man over here. He was nothing in Italy and never would be, but here people listened to him. He made lots of friends and lots of money.”
“So he brought over the rest of his family.” Frank reached into the bag for the other piece of bread.
“No, not all of them, only his brother. At least that was the plan. He
was going to bring Ernesto over to work for a while, too. Then they would send for their families. But it didn’t work out that way.”
“Why not?” Frank asked between bites.
“Because Patrizia Ruocco refused to stay in Italy. By then Ugo’s wife had been left alone for almost five years.
Patrizia didn’t think Ugo was going to send for his wife at all. Some men did that. They’d get here and forget all about their wives back home. Sometimes they’d even get married to another woman. The wives back in Italy, they called them white widows. Patrizia wasn’t going to be a white widow.”
“So she came along with her husband?”
“She convinced Ernesto not to come without the whole family, even Ugo’s wife. Ugo was plenty mad, but in the end he gave in because he wanted his brother here. Like I told you before, family is very important to Italians, and he needed somebody he could trust to help him in his business.”
“And Ugo never forgave Patrizia for making him bring over his fat, ugly wife?” Frank guessed.
“No, he never forgave her because when they got here, Ernesto couldn’t get in. Turns out he had consumption. He was dying, so they sent him back to Italy.”
Now Ugo’s accusation against Patrizia made sense. “Patrizia sent him back alone?”
“That’s right. Ugo thought she should go home with him, to take care of him, but she wouldn’t. She wanted her children to live in America, and she wouldn’t leave them here with Ugo. Ernesto asked Ugo to take care of them all, so he did. But Ugo never forgave Patrizia because Ernesto died alone back in Italy just a few months later.”
Frank considered this information. “So Ugo would have a good reason for trying to get Patrizia in trouble.”
“We call it a vendetta,” Gino explained. “When you carry a grudge against somebody until you figure out a way to get revenge.”
“Fifteen years is a long time to wait,” Frank observed.
“Not for an Italian,” Gino assured him with a grin. “Ugo might see this as his big chance to punish Patrizia by blaming her for Nainsi’s death.”
Frank licked the last of the sauce off his fingers thoughtfully. “Or maybe she did kill Nainsi, and he sees this as his big chance to turn her in for it.”
Gino scratched his head. “Even if she did, we still have the same problem. How can we prove it? Ugo’s word isn’t enough. He wasn’t even in the house, so he can’t know for sure or have any proof. Her children aren’t going to tell us anything about her, and all she has to do is keep her mouth shut.”
“We won’t get anything out of any of them as long as they’re holed up in their house together. We need to separate them, get the boys away from Mama. If we can scare them, maybe—”
“Detective Sergeant Malloy,” a voice called. Frank looked up to see the officer he’d spoken with earlier on the street near Mama’s Restaurant. “Wanted you to know, I saw two men leaving the Ruocco house a little while ago.”
“Two men? Customers, you mean?” Frank asked.
“No, sir. There was hardly any customers tonight. Nor at noon either. Guess folks are scared there might be trouble.
They’d already closed up for the night, turned out the lights down in the restaurant, and then two men come out.”
“Who was it?”
“Couldn’t see for sure, but it must’ve been two of the boys.”
Gino muttered a curse. “They’d leave their mother alone and unprotected after what happened last night?” he said in outrage. “What kind of men are they?”
“Stupid and selfish ones,” Frank supplied. “Did you see where they went?” he asked the officer.
“Yeah, O’Malley followed them. They went to some dance house on Broadway.”
Frank looked over at Gino. “Like Antonio said he used to do with Lorenzo. That’s how he met Nainsi. Now’s our chance to catch them away from their mama.”
The Dance House was above a saloon. Decent girls wouldn’t dare enter the saloon, but the room above presumably provided respectable entertainment, so they could go up there. A band played dance music for short periods of time, during which the men in attendance would select a partner. Then the music would stop, and the men would have a long interval during which to ply their partners with drinks from the bar. This was the only type of establishment in the city where unescorted females could meet men without being labeled prostitutes.
Shop girls and factory girls would pay the nickel or dime admission fee for the chance to have a few hours of fun, some free drinks, and perhaps find a man to marry so they could escape their hopeless lives.
Once the dance houses had sprung up all over the city, however, many men quickly learned that the girls were desperate for more than a good time. Their meager wages barely covered the cost of food and shelter, leaving little for clothing and nothing for the occasional luxury, like a new hat or piece of jewelry. Many of the girls, who were usually younger than sixteen, would willingly trade sexual favors for the gift of an article of clothing or some geegaw. Frank wondered what the man who had impregnated Nainsi had given her for the privilege.
When they arrived at the crowded, overheated, and smoke-filled upstairs room, a musical number was just ending, and all the dancers were making their way to the bar for some refreshment. The man at the door tried to collect an admission fee from Frank and Gino, but Frank flashed his badge.
“We ain’t doing nothing illegal here,” the man cried, holding up both hands in silent surrender. “You got no call to raid us.”
“This isn’t a raid,” Frank said, already scanning the room for sign of the Ruocco brothers. “We’re just looking for somebody.”
“I don’t want no trouble,” the man whined. “It’s bad for business!”
“When we find him, we’ll take him out real quiet,”
Frank promised. “Do you see them?” he asked Gino.
Gino shook his head. The mass of bodies at the bar was four or five deep, but Frank would’ve thought they could see the Ruoccos’ heads above the crowd because of their height.
“We’ll circle the room,” Frank said. “You go that way, and I’ll go this way. We’ll keep an eye on each other and signal to the other if we see them.”
“Right,” said Gino, and he started off, eyeing the crowd.
He hadn’t gone three feet before a girl accosted him, though. Frank couldn’t hear what she said, but he understood the look in her eye all too well. Gino was a handsome man, and if he was here, he must’ve come to meet girls.
Frank waited to see if he could extricate himself. He did, but he didn’t get far before two more girls latched onto him.
With a weary sigh, Frank started in the opposite direction. If he found the Ruoccos, maybe Gino could at least help take them into custody. He scanned the crowd for tall men with dark hair as he walked slowly around the perime-ter of the room, but none of the men who caught his eye were the ones he wanted. He’d just mentally dismissed yet another one when he noticed that the girl he was talking to looked very familiar.
She was Nainsi’s friend, Brigit. She looked different tonight, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright from al-cohol. She was shaking her head, refusing whatever the man was offering. She didn’t notice Frank’s approach.
“Brigit,” he said, startling her.
“Is this the fellow you’re waiting for?” the man scoffed, looking Frank over with contempt. “Find yourself another girl, old man. I’m taking this one.”
“Are you?” he asked mildly, but gave the man a look that sent the blood rushing from his face.
“I . . . I’ll see you later,” the man said and scurried away.
“What’re you doing here?” Brigit asked in alarm, glancing around as if searching for someone to help her.
“I was looking for Antonio Ruocco. Have you seen him?”
“Antonio?” she echoed in surprise. “No, not tonight. Not for a long time, either. At least since he married Nainsi.”
“Was this where they met up?”
“Mostly, I guess,” she said, twisting her hands in front of her nervously and glancing around again.
He remembered something else he’d wanted to check.
“When did you first meet Antonio?”
“Me? I don’t know,” she said plaintively. “I can’t remember.” She didn’t want to talk to him, but she was afraid to run away.
“You said she started seeing him last spring. Was that when you met him?”
She shook her head. “Nainsi said she didn’t want us stealing him away. She wouldn’t ever bring him around us.”
“But she told you she was seeing him?”
“Sure she did, like I told you before. She was bragging about how she was going to marry a rich Italian. Can I go now? My fellow’s gonna be back in a minute.”
“Antonio says he never even met Nainsi until last August,” Frank said, watching her reaction.
She didn’t have one. “He’s lying then, and he’ll burn in hell for it, because it got Nainsi killed, didn’t it?” she said impatiently. She was still looking around. “Please, let me go. My fellow won’t like me talking to you.”
“When did Nainsi first trust you to meet Antonio?”
Frank continued relentlessly.
“I already said, I don’t remember!”
“Was it when she told you they were getting married?”
Frank guessed.
She gave the question a moment’s thought. “I guess it was,” she recalled in exasperation. “She said it was safe then, because they was already promised. She wanted us to see how handsome he was and be jealous. Then they got married a few days later.”
She looked up again, over Frank’s shoulder, and her eyes grew wide with apprehension. She tried to warn away whoever was coming, but Frank turned and spotted him before he could comprehend the warning.
Richard Keith’s jaw dropped when he saw Frank. He was carrying two glasses of beer, one of which was half empty, both of which he forgot about as he turned to flee. He ran right into another man, and the beer went flying in every direction, splashing on several of the other customers who were none too happy about it. They started shouting and shoving and before Frank could rescue Keith, someone had socked him right in the jaw and sent him sprawling at Frank’s feet.
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