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“I never would have thought you cared about Mussolini one way or the other,” Rainy says

“The Fascists have been tough on our people On legitimate traditional businesses”

“Organized crime”

Cisco shrugs “You say potato, I say potahto”

They take a wrong turn and end up in a cul-de-sac of a cra the cathedral Arched breezeways are to their right and left The cathedral, the duoh the arches on its lower level before rising to form a plain peaked-roof middle A square tower topped by a round bell tower loorand by A Saint Patrick’s, the big cathedral on Fifth Avenue

That thought carries Rainy away for a moment, far away, to New York The New York of her father and mother, the New York of Halev Homesickness swells within her, and she very nearly tears up

A file of nuns walks past in ankle-length black with their faces framed by snohite coifs and wis hobbles by, leading a thin cow on a rope There are more people in the street as the town comes to life

Rainy is as curious as any tourist, and there is a part of her that keeps thinking, Wow, I’m in Italy! But she keeps her head down and eyes open Two Italian soldiers, officers, both looking as if they’ve passed a night of debauchery, lurch past, blinking owlishly in the sunlight

After another half hour they find the street and then the house Cisco pushes in front of Rainy and bangs on the door It is opened quickly by a squat rily to knoho they are and why they are banging on doors

“I’oes blank in surprise

“Camporeale?”

“Yeah Si” Cisco points at his chest “Me-o am Francisco Camporeale, the don’s nephew from America You kno York”

So in that convinces theand locking the door behind the entryway at the bottoht of stairs Fro dishes and conversation, the sounds of a family at breakfast

The guard apologizes with a shrug and pats Cisco down, looking for weapons He looks disapproving when he finds none He searches Rainy’s bag but does not go further He calls up the stairs, and a moment later a man in his late twenties, a sort of sturdier version of Cisco, co his mouth with a napkin He wears a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, dark slacks, and what appear to be very expensive leather shoes He is tall, olive co shock of black hair Each strand seehed down so strand fall down to bisect one dark, amused eye

In Italian he asks who they are