Elizabeth Street - Laurie Fabiano [75]
“What if they come back?”
“I assure you, you will never see these men again.”
Giovanna believed him. She didn’t trust him at all, but she weighed her options: soon the moled man and his short, fat counterpart would demand the fifty dollars per week, and there was no doubt in her mind that they would indeed bomb her store. If she went to the policeman, someone in her family could be killed. If she paid the cafe owner thirty dollars a week, she always knew where to find him, and he would have to make good on his offer of protection.
“And if someone is not here each night or these men or other men come back, we can terminate our agreement?”
“Absolutely, signora. You are hiring me for a job, and unless you get the service, you do not pay. In fact, there is no need to pay me now. You’ll see that you won’t hear from these men, and I’ll come see you next week.”
Before the week was out, Giovanna felt forced to explain to Rocco the arrangement she had made with Inzerillo.
Rocco raged. “I can protect my own store! I don’t need a Sicilian cafe owner to protect me! Thirty dollars a week? Are you crazy? That’s all our profits!”
Giovanna couldn’t stop Rocco when he stormed out of their store and headed down the block to Café Pasticceria. It was only eight stores down, so Giovanna watched Rocco stride into the cafe. She half expected him to be thrown out, but only a few minutes later Rocco walked back looking satisfied.
“He said he understood and that it was my decision. He also apologized for doing business with you. Go home. I will take care of this.”
Giovanna bristled at the order, but she was sick of fighting.
From that point on, Giovanna no longer went to the store. Rocco was there continuously; the only time the store was vacant was during his trips to the produce distributor in Brooklyn. The children brought him his meals at the store, and he slept on a cot in the back room. Homemade weapons were hidden in every corner, and he hung mirrors in strategic locations so that no part of the store was hidden from his eye. Rocco was waiting. Even while helping customers or carrying boxes, he was waiting. He considered having Clement go to Brooklyn to get the produce so he would never have to leave, but he was afraid Clement would be ambushed. Instead, he put bars on the windows and doors for those rare times he was away.
The moled man and his sidekick visited the week after Rocco told Pietro Inzerillo he would not need his services. Rocco was ready, and before they even had a chance to get down the stairs, Rocco ran at them, brandishing the wood bat he had spiked, and the men ran off shouting curses. They got two more letters, but Rocco didn’t even bother to have Giovanna read them to him.
When Rocco received the third letter, he lost his temper completely. He took all three letters, ran up the steps to the street, and threw them on the ground after igniting them with a match. Stamping on the burning letters, he shouted, “See this? This is what I think of your threats! May you burn in hell!” His rage and the fire cooled at the same time, and he noticed that life on Elizabeth Street had come to a halt as people stopped to watch. A woman crossed herself, and down the block he saw Pietro Inzerillo look at him and nod.
Rocco, confident that his defiance was witnessed, hoped it would incite the blackmailers. He was anxious to catch the rats red-handed with their weapons or bombs. He had decided to kill them.
With more free time than usual, Giovanna tended to travel farther when shopping and even brought Angelina to her old friend’s store in Chinatown. It was during one of these visits that Giovanna once again bumped into Lieutenant Petrosino.
“Please, I told you, we have no problems.” Giovanna continued to walk up the block, Angelina’s hand clutched in hers.
“Is that why you are no longer in the store and your husband sleeps there?”
“This is none of your business.”
“Signora, you appear to be an intelligent woman, so I am going to tell you a story.” Petrosino, glancing at Angelina, spoke quietly. “Before there was the