Elizabeth Street - Laurie Fabiano [121]
Giovanna stifled a gasp.
“After they threw the rock, I got it from Clement’s friend. It cost practically nothing.”
Staring at the gun in disbelief and confusion, she quickly became practical. “How does it work?”
“You cock it here and pull the trigger. There are three bullets.”
“I won’t need this, Rocco, but thank you.” Giovanna took the gun from his hand and floundered for somewhere to put it. Rocco lifted her blouse and tucked it into her waistband. “It won’t show; the baby will hide it.”
“You’re right,” replied Giovanna, looking down at herself. “I should go.”
“Giovanna, I love you.” The words hung in the air. Rocco had never said it before. Giovanna was taken aback. Despite the emotion of the moment, she believed he meant it.
She stroked his face as affectionately as she could manage. “Thank you, Rocco.”
They opened the door, and the children who had been leaning against it eavesdropping jumped back. All three studied Giovanna’s waistline in awe.
Giovanna took her red shawl, wrapped it around her shoulders, and said, “Do not follow me. If I am not home by ten o’clock you can come looking for me.”
Mary was crying, and Giovanna hugged her at the door. “I am perfectly safe, and we will get your sister back.”
By the time she had walked three blocks north, her body heat had warmed the metal of the gun, and the envelope had settled into position within her corset. Heading toward Washington Square, she planned her route to avoid the streets near Lucrezia’s apartment. They hadn’t seen each other since the kidnapping, and there was no way she would get past her without revealing something.
Checking the time, she saw that she still had half an hour and only a few blocks to go. She was east of the park on Broadway and Bond. She slowed down, wanting to time her arrival to a few minutes before eight, and said a prayer of thanks that the moon was nearly full. Her hope was to get a good look at the man so she could find him again and trail him.
As she approached the park, she saw Garibaldi’s back, hand to the hilt of his sword, at the ready to unsheathe his weapon. She allowed herself the fantasy of Garibaldi springing to life and slicing up the kidnapper, scaring him into bringing her to Angelina. At that moment it occurred to her that she could put Rocco’s gun to the man’s head and demand to be taken to her daughter. Adrenaline pumped through her body thinking about it, but when she played the scenario out in her head, her initial euphoria was dampened by the thought that there would surely be other gang members among the trees, or that the bagman wouldn’t even know where Angelina was hidden. The kidnapper’s rules would have to prevail.
Reaching the statue, she leaned back on the base. She didn’t see anyone waiting or suspiciously idle. She was looking down, pretending to tend to her swollen feet, when a legless beggar rolled toward her.
“Scusi, signora, you have something for me?”
“Vai, go, go.” Giovanna brushed him away with her hand.
“I believe you have something for me. An envelope.”
Giovanna was so stunned that she stared down wordlessly at the crippled man who was atop a piece of wood with wheels attached.
“Signora, in two seconds I will be gone.”
Giovanna bent toward the man and swiftly took the envelope from her blouse. The second she placed the envelope in his hands, the cripple put his knuckles to the paving stones and launched his body away.
“Wait!! I must talk to you!” Giovanna called after him fruitlessly. He sped around a group of people strolling through the park, and in seconds the beggar bagman was nowhere in sight. She walked aimlessly through the park, looking around trees and bushes, hoping against hope to see Angelina. Instead, there was emptiness. There was no sign of her daughter, no money clutched to her bosom, and no one to follow. Giovanna felt consumed by her own naïveté and terror.
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1909