“I tried to play nice.” Judy pulled up her chair next to Mary, so her friend wouldn’t have to talk loudly. “How’d you hear about it? Frank, right?”
“Among others. The news, the cops, our boss, and your new boyfriend. I love a man with a cell phone.”
Judy smiled, though her face felt hot. “Wonder how he knew I’d come here.”
“He knows you like to eat.”
Judy thought about it. “He’s smart, you know.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a genius. He invented fire. So, you enjoying your work?”
“What a great case. It stimulates me like no other.”
Mary snorted. “Really fascinated by the legal issues, huh?”
“Hubba hubba.” Judy laughed, while Mr. DiNunzio set a fresh cup of coffee before her, on a mismatched saucer, and Mrs. Di-Nunzio brought her silverware and a plate heavy with green peppers, sliced potatoes, sweet onions, and scrambled eggs, all fried and mixed together. The first time Judy saw this combo, she thought a dog had thrown up on the plate. Now she loved it. Presentation was highly overrated.
“Eat, Judy!” Mrs. DiNunzio said, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll force myself. Thank you, the D family,” she said, grabbing an oversize fork and digging in. “Why didn’t you tell me about Frank?” she asked Mary, with her mouth full. “I would have shaved my legs.”
“Why? Is it Sunday?”
“For him I’d make an exception.”
Mary smiled. “You like little Frankie? I didn’t think he was your type.”
“What, are you blind?”
“Despite his physical charms, I mean. He won’t let you push him around.”
“I know. He’ll get over it.” Judy ate hungrily. The green peppers were limp with olive oil, the sliced potatoes were limp with olive oil, the sweet onions were limp with olive oil. Nothing could kill the eggs. In short, it was the perfect meal. “He wants to protect me.”
Mary laughed. “Lotsa luck, Frank.”
“Can you imagine?”
“No. I don’t even want to feed you.”
“Your mother does.”
“She feeds all strays.”
“Good! Good for Frankie!” announced Mrs. DiNunzio, sitting down across from Judy at the circular table of gold-speckled Formica. Mrs. DiNunzio’s English was only slightly less impressionistic than Pigeon Tony’s, and Judy remembered that the Di-Nunzios were almost as old as he was, because they had had Mary and her twin sister, Angie, so late in life. Mary always said they were an accident, but her mother preferred Gifts from God. “We know Frankie when he was baby,” Mrs. DiNunzio went on. “Judy, you could have a good man protect you!”
“I protect me!” Judy said, for the record, but Mary was waving her off.
“Don’t go so fast. You may need the reinforcements. Bennie called three times today.”
“She’s a witch!” Mrs. DiNunzio said, raising an arthritic finger, and Judy stifled a smile. The DiNunzios blamed Bennie Rosato for all the trouble she and Mary got into, and Judy had failed to disabuse her of that notion. Last thing Judy had heard, Mrs. DiNunzio had put the evil eye on their boss. Judy could only hope it worked.
“Bennie called, here?” Judy asked. “What’d you tell her, Mare?”
“That I don’t know you.”
“She believe it?”
“No. I think she may actually be concerned for your health and welfare.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Also she said something about the antitrust article.”
“Bingo.”
“Hnph!” Mrs. DiNunzio said, which Judy knew was Italian for she-should-burn-in-hell. She was shaking her head, which trembled with age. “She no care about you, Judy. She no care about nobody but her!”
“I know, Mrs. D.” Judy kept eating. “She expects me to work for my paycheck. She’s evil and mean.”
“Yes!” Mrs. DiNunzio pounded the table with a hand that wasn’t as delicate as it looked. “Yes! She’s evil. Evil!”
Judy finished the last of her eggs and hoped for seconds. She knew from experience that the thought alone would transmit an instant telepathic message to all Italian mothers in the universe, and one of their representatives would materialize any moment with plates of steaming food. Who needed e-mail? “Bennie just wants to talk to me so she can fire me.”
“No,” Mary said. “That’s not it. She gave me her proxy. You’re fired. And stop getting my mother riled up.”
“Why? I want her to get her voodoo in high gear. Stick pins in something. Light candles and cast spells. I need an extension of time for that dopey article.” Judy smiled, but Mrs. DiNunzio was in the zone.
“That witch, she’s lucky to have you girls work for her. Lucky! I go to her! I tell her!” Mrs. DiNunzio picked up a serving fork and jabbed the air for emphasis. Judy, who had seen her in action only with her wooden spoon, was properly intimidated. Extreme situations called for extreme utensils.
“You smart girls!” she went on, brandishing the fork. “Very smart girls! You work like dogs! You sacrifice for her! My Maria, a bullet they shot at her!”
Mary looked sideways at her mother. “Ma, please put down the fork. And Bennie’s not that bad.”
“She’s a devil!” Mrs. DiNunzio said, quivering with emotion, and Mr. DiNunzio patted her arm heavily.
“S’allright, Vita. S’allright.” His eyes were soft with worry.
“Mary’s gonna be okay. Judy, she’s gonna be okay, too. Right,
Judy?”
“Right.”
Mr. DiNunzio sighed. “I don’t know if you should stay on Pigeon Tony’s case, Judy. Me, I’m responsible. I asked you to do it. Now look what’s happening.”
“Mr. D, I would have done it anyway. I wanted to do it.” Judy reached across the table and pressed his arm, and he grabbed her hand. He looked like he was about to burst into tears, and Judy panicked. She was way over her emotion quota for the year, in only one day. “Don’t cry, Mr. D. It’s going to be all right, like you said.”
Mary smiled. “Don’t worry, Judy. He cries when the Phillies lose. He likes to cry. He’s not happy unless he’s crying.” She turned to her father. “Pop, get a grip. You’re upsetting Judy. She’s not used to people like us. She’s normal.”
Mr. DiNunzio laughed hoarsely. “I’m allright, I’m allright. But I’m gonna help you, Judy. I heard about the pigeons, and I got it all figgered out.”
“What do you mean?” Judy asked in surprise, and there was a soft knock at the door.
“You’ll see,” he said, and got up to get the door, just as a second helping of eggs, peppers, and onions appeared on the table in front of Judy.
Message received. Over and out.
Chapter 21
The full moon shone on an unlikely caravan threading its way through the city blocks. Old Chryslers, Toyotas, Hondas, and a battered Ford Fiesta snaked along in a line that lasted ten cars. If it wasn’t Raid on Entebbe, it was Raid on South Philly, and it went a good deal slower because it was staffed by septuagenarians, whose night driving wasn’t the best. Judy, in the lead, inched Frank’s truck down the skinny street, with Mr. DiNunzio navigating in the passenger seat and Tony-From-Down-The-Block and Tony Two Feet in the back.
“Slow down, Jude, you’ll lose Tullio,” Feet warned, leaning forward. His glasses had been repaired at the bridge with a thick Band-Aid, which couldn’t have helped much with visibility.
“Turn left on Ritner,” Mr. DiNunzio said, pointing. Judy turned slowly and braked to five miles an hour, the truck’s huge engine grinding in protest. It felt like walking a tiger on a leash.