“Nainsi’s mother,” Frank guessed.
“Who else would care?” Donatelli asked. “I don’t think the Ruoccos wanted this story in the newspapers.”
“She’ll be sorry,” Frank predicted. “Ugo will make sure of it.”
Frank heard somebody calling his name. He swore.
“Maybe it’s about something else,” Donatelli offered.
“Malloy!” It was one of the Goo-Goos, a brand-new officer, breathless from running through the building in search of him. He sighed in relief when he saw Malloy sitting at his desk. “Commissioner Roosevelt wants to see you right away.”
“Yeah,” Frank said to Donatelli, rising reluctantly. “He probably wants my advice on running the department or something.”
Donatelli rose also and followed Frank down the hall toward the stairs to the second floor where Roosevelt kept his office. “If you need somebody who speaks Italian, you know where to find me,” he said in parting.
Frank just grunted and started up the stairs.
Miss Kelly, the girl secretary Roosevelt had hired in a break with decades of tradition of an exclusively male staff, greeted him and told him to go on in. The commissioner was waiting for him.
Frank wished he’d had a chance to clean up first, but Roosevelt would have to take him as he was.
“Been cleaning chimneys, Detective Sergeant?” Roosevelt asked with his toothy grin.
“Warehouse fire, sir,” he replied. “I just got back.”
“You were down at that Italian restaurant this morning, though.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, sir. I suspected the girl had been murdered, so I sent her body to the morgue for an autopsy.”
“Throat cut, eh?”
“Oh, no, she was smothered.”
“Then the scandal sheets are wrong.”
“They’re wrong about a lot of things, Commissioner,”
Frank explained wearily. “She wasn’t kidnapped. She was married to one of the Ruocco boys. He thought he’d gotten her in a family way. When the baby came way too early, he knew it wasn’t his. The whole family was pretty mad. The next morning she was dead.”
“What about the baby?”
“It’s fine, and the Ruocco family wants to keep it. Seems one of the other boys’ wives can’t have any of her own.”
“The girl was murdered, though. No doubt about that?”
“No, sir, no doubt at all, according to the coroner.”
“Who did it?”
“We don’t have any idea. And it’s Ugo Ruocco’s family.”
Roosevelt grimaced in distaste. “The girl married his son?”
“His nephew. He’ll try to protect them though. He’ll bribe and threaten whoever he has to.”
“A girl was murdered. We can’t let a criminal stop us from investigating,” Roosevelt insisted.
“He can make sure we don’t find the killer, though,”
Frank said. “If it was somebody in the family—and it probably was—they’ll never turn on each other. All they have to do is keep quiet.”
Even though he understood, Roosevelt didn’t like it.
Frank wished he wasn’t the one delivering the bad news, but it couldn’t be helped.
They could both hear the sound of a paddy wagon pulling up in the street below with its load of boisterous drunks. It was early for that, Frank noted. They didn’t start picking up that kind of crowd until long after sundown. Even then, they usually didn’t make this much noise.
Roosevelt must have had the same thought. He went to the window overlooking the street, and Frank followed. The men spilling from the wagon didn’t look drunk. They were much too feisty and coordinated as they dodged the officers’
locust clubs and managed to get in a few licks of their own.
One even successfully broke free and raced away down the street to freedom. The officers were too busy to even notice his escape.
“What’s this?” Roosevelt muttered. “It looks like a riot!”
Frank thought so, too.
Someone knocked loudly on the office door, and before Roosevelt could answer, it opened.
Minnie Kelly stuck her head in, her eyes wide. “An Officer Donatelli says he has to see you, Commissioner.”
“He was with me at the restaurant this morning,” Frank said to Roosevelt.
“Send him in,” Roosevelt said.
Donatelli didn’t wait for Miss Kelly. He was right behind her, and he stepped around her into the room.
“Mr. Roosevelt, sir, there was a riot down at the Ruoccos’
restaurant. I knew Mr. Malloy was with you, and you’d both want to know right away.”
“What kind of a riot?” Roosevelt demanded. “Who was involved?”
“A group of Irish boys, it seems, sir,” Donatelli said.
“That’s how it started. They got to reading the penny press about the girl who got killed, and they were drinking some, I guess. They worked themselves up into a fever and marched down to Mama’s, started yelling and then throwing rocks. A window got broke, and then all hell—I’m sorry, sir, then things started getting really rough. Some of the neighborhood toughs came out with sticks, and a lot of noses got bloodied. Our boys gathered up as many as they could from both sides and sent the others packing.”
“So that’s who they’re bringing in now,” Roosevelt said.
“Yes, sir, at least the ones that didn’t run away.”
Roosevelt removed his wire-rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’d better telephone the mayor before he hears this from someone else. Malloy,” he added as he put his glasses back on, “you’re in charge of this investigation. I want the killer found.”
Frank wanted to remind him how he’d just explained that the task was impossible, but he resisted the self-destructive urge. “An Irish cop won’t get far with those people,” he said instead. “They only trust their own.”
“I don’t have any Italian detectives to send,” Roosevelt reminded him.
“I’ll help in any way I can,” Donatelli offered. “I grew up in that neighborhood.”
“Dee-lightful,” Roosevelt said, his good humor restored.
“Take this young man, Malloy. Donatelli, is it? Good work, Officer Donatelli. And just tell Conlin if you need anyone else,” he added, mentioning the chief of detectives. “I want this matter settled before this little altercation turns into a full-scale war between the Irish and Italians.”
“Yes, sir,” Frank said, although he had no hope at all that he’d be able to obey this order. One thing might help, though, if he could convince Roosevelt to do it. “Maybe we could start by getting the newspapers to publish the facts instead of all this business about the girl being kidnapped and her throat being cut.”
“Yes, yes, good idea, Malloy. Good idea,” Roosevelt said, rubbing his hands in anticipation of getting to work. “I’ll call a press conference. I’ll need a full report with all the details so I can answer questions. I’ll get Haynes there to talk about the autopsy, too.”
“He, uh, he hasn’t actually done the autopsy yet,” Frank admitted.
“Then he’ll do it tonight. I want the news in the morning papers. I’ll need that report right away, Detective Sergeant Malloy.”
Frank took the hint and made his escape, Donatelli on his heels.
“I never saw him up close before,” Donatelli whispered as they made their way downstairs. “He’s something, isn’t he?”
Frank didn’t answer. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was going to do the impossible and solve Nainsi Ruocco’s murder.
5
Sarah took Aggie for a walk the next morning to pick up several of the more reputable newspapers. Aggie almost had to run to keep up with her as she hurried back home to see what they had to say about Nainsi’s death.
When she arrived, she found Mrs. Ellsworth and Maeve in the kitchen with all the ingredients for an English pudding.