“According to the ones I questioned, Maria went downstairs with everybody else to help serve dinner to the customers that night. Nainsi was fine then. After the crowd left, Joe and Antonio went to see Ugo, while the rest of the family cleaned up. Then the family went up to the second floor. There’s a parlor there, where they usually sit.”
“Did someone check on Nainsi after they came upstairs?”
Sarah asked.
“Maria said Mrs. Ruocco wouldn’t let them. Valentina had taken some supper up to her earlier, but no one saw her again until Maria went up to bed.”
“But Maria saw her then?”
“She said she looked in and saw the baby was sleeping in his cradle. The room was dark, and she thought Nainsi was asleep, too, so she didn’t say anything to her.”
“Then she could have been dead already,” Sarah said.
“Not according to Maria. She said that when Joe came in later, after she’d gone to sleep, he made some noise and woke her and Nainsi up. Nainsi called out for him to be quiet.”
“That means she was still alive when Joe and Antonio came home. Do we know what time it was?”
“No one paid any attention.”
“Of course they didn’t,” Sarah sighed. “But now we know everyone was at home when she died. What else do we know about Joe and Antonio? You said they went to see Ugo. Do you know why?”
“Joe said he and Antonio went to tell Ugo what had happened and ask him how they could keep the baby for Maria.”
“That doesn’t sound right!” Sarah exclaimed.
“I know. I think Joe’s lying about that. Probably, they went to ask Ugo how to get rid of Nainsi and her baby, but he didn’t want to say that to a cop.”
“We’ll probably never find out for sure what they talked about. Ugo certainly isn’t going to tell you that.”
“No, he won’t. None of them will. They do admit that Antonio drank a lot that night and passed out when he got home. He says he slept on the sofa in the second floor parlor, so he wasn’t anywhere near Nainsi. Maria claims Joe got into bed after Nainsi called out for him to be quiet, and nei-ther of them got up again.”
“Then that’s it. Don’t you see? Joe and Antonio went to Ugo to ask him to get rid of her, and he sent someone over to kill her. You said yourself how easy it would be to sneak up the back staircase.”
“It’s a good theory,” Frank agreed. “The problem is proving it. Ugo isn’t going to tell us who he sent over, and nobody is going to confess. Meanwhile, the Irish will continue thinking the Ruoccos killed the girl and kidnapped her baby, and they’ll keep going down to Little Italy and causing trouble until they get the baby back.”
“That’s ridiculous! They’ll get tired or forget all about it.”
“Not if Tammany Hall keeps them stirred up. It’s politics, Sarah. Tammany wants to put the Italians in their place. They’re going to keep organizing riots—”
“Organizing?” Sarah cried in outrage.
“Yes, the Ward Heelers got that group together last night. And they’ll keep doing it until Roosevelt helps them get what they want.”
“Roosevelt? He’ll never go along with this.” Sarah had known him all her life, and she knew he could never be coerced.
“He can’t stand by and watch people riot in the streets.
He doesn’t have a choice, Sarah. He has to keep the peace, and the Ruoccos don’t have any right to that baby.”
“But the law—”
“Morally, they have no right to it,” he insisted. “Especially if somebody in their family killed Nainsi . . . or ordered it done.”
Sarah felt tears stinging her eyes as fury flooded her. “You can’t just pass a baby around like it’s a . . . a loaf of bread!”
“We’re going to give him to his grandmother, his only known relative,” he pointed out reasonably.
“You’ll never convince Maria to give him up,” she warned him furiously.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why you have to do it.”
9
Frank hadn’t expected Sarah to give in so easily, which made him really suspicious. “You do understand what you need to do, don’t you?” he asked her as they rode downtown toward Little Italy in a Hansom cab.
“Of course I do. You made it very clear. I’ll have a few sharp words to say to Commissioner Roosevelt when next we meet, though.”
Frank was sure she would. “He’s got to do what’s best for the city,” Frank tried. “Innocent people are getting hurt in the riots. It’s only a matter of time before somebody gets killed. It could even be one of the Ruoccos. Or maybe they’ll burn the restaurant and half the street down.”
“You can stop explaining. I understand, Malloy,” she said tartly. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”
She didn’t have to add that she didn’t like it. That was obvious. They rode the rest of the way through the city in uneasy silence. Frank hoped she was thinking about what she would say to the Ruoccos, and he hoped it would be convincing.
The cab dropped them off at the corner.
“What if they aren’t home?” Sarah asked uneasily.
“They’ll be getting ready for the lunch customers,” he pointed out.
She looked around, noticing the signs of last night’s riot.
He could see her shock and was glad for it. Maybe that would soften her up a bit.
“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get this over with.”
The front door was locked and the shades drawn, so he knocked. He saw Sarah eyeing the patch on the door frame where it had been ripped out last night. The edge of the window shade moved a bit, as if someone was peering out to see who was there, and then the door opened.
“Mrs. Brandt,” Lorenzo said in surprise. Then his gaze cut to Frank, and his eyes darkened with suspicion. “What are you doing here?” he asked Frank.
“We need to speak with you, Lorenzo,” Sarah said before Frank could answer. “We need to speak with your whole family, all together.”
“Mama said not to let the police in,” he protested.
“Mr. Malloy is escorting me today, to make sure I’m safe because of the trouble last night. I have something to explain to you, something that could end all this trouble and get your lives back to the way they were before. Please, Lorenzo. It’s very important.”
Lorenzo looked unconvinced, but he said, “Come in. I’ll ask Mama.”
He locked the door behind them and then went to the kitchen, leaving Sarah and Frank standing in the empty dining room.
“They did a good job getting the place cleaned up,”
Frank observed. The patch job on the front door would do for now, and all the debris was gone.
“I can’t believe the mob actually broke down the door,”
she said.
“They only broke it in, not down. Next time they’ll probably smash the windows and loot the place.”
She gave him a murderous glare, but luckily, Mrs. Ruocco came out of the kitchen like a small whirlwind, with Lorenzo and Joe right behind her.
“What you want?” she demanded of Frank. “I tell you go home, not bother us!”
“Mrs. Brandt is the one who wants to talk to you,” Frank defended himself, taking a step backward to show he was no part of it.
“How is the baby doing?” Sarah asked, skillfully divert-ing her attention.
Mrs. Ruocco forced herself to be polite to Sarah. “The goat milk is good for him. He sleep now.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sarah said with genuine relief. “And Maria? Is she getting enough rest?”
Mrs. Ruocco shrugged one shoulder.
“She’s doing better now that the baby is sleeping,”
Lorenzo reported, earning a disapproving look from his mother.
“Is she here?” Sarah asked with the kind of confidence that had to have been bred into her for generations. “I’d like for her to hear what I have to say, too.”