“Very well,” says Tommy Jr. He gestures for Sofia to follow him upstairs.
The Fianzo office smells like stale meat, something brown and sinister Sofia does not want to inhale too deeply. Tommy Fianzo Jr. offers her a seat before lighting a noxious cigar that clouds Sofia’s eyesight and mind. She and Fianzo could be anywhere. They could be the last two people alive.
“I know what my husband has been doing,” says Sofia. “And judging by the state of him, I assume you do too.”
“？‘The state of him’？” asks Tommy Jr. He leans forward, interested. “I haven’t touched him, no.” He raises a hand, anticipating Sofia’s disbelief. “It’s true! I would admit it if I had. And I’ll admit I’m glad someone has.”
“I’m sure you are,” says Sofia. Make him feel safe. Make him feel like it was his idea. “I wanted to apologize for him.”
“And what good do you think that will do?” asks Tommy Jr.
“I’m not focused on what it will do,” says Sofia. “I just think you deserve an apology. You gave him a chance, and he betrayed you.”
Tommy Jr. is looking for the trick. Finding none, he leans back slightly in his chair. “I’ve always been against outsiders,” he says. “There’s no way to do this right unless you were raised in it. And people—people thought it was the Jewish thing, and sure, you can’t deny that they’re—well, crafty—but I would have felt that way about anyone, anyone from outside. You can’t join in, here. You can’t do it halfway.”
“I know,” says Sofia. “I know how it works.”
“Then why,” snarls Tommy Jr., impatient now, “are you here?”
“I have information I’d like to give you,” says Sofia, “in exchange for my husband’s safety.”
* * *
—
Antonia and Paolo take a cab to the docks. They do not speak.
Antonia stares out the window at clouds so gray they are purple, a surreal darkening of the hot midday. She knows she can never again sit back while action unfolds around her. Terrible things happen to her family when she lets them out of her sight. And Antonia, who has always trusted in adulthood, in passing time, in the order she was told reigned, realizes now that nothing holds fast.
Everyone is just as wild and strange as she.
Everything just as unstable.
In Paolo’s head, a war rages. His wife is in danger. His friends. His family. He wants to tell the driver to stop the car. He wants to throw himself on top of Antonia, press her arms in close to her sides and shield her until the danger has passed. He wants to stop her, but he knows he cannot.
* * *
—
Tommy Fianzo Jr. has settled down behind his desk. There is no less scorn on his face but his expression has been brightened by blatant curiosity. “You have information?” he asks, and even Sofia can tell he is trying to keep his tone light; his day is shaping up to be much more exciting than he had thought it would.
“I have information you could use to your advantage,” says Sofia. “But I have some conditions.”
“It doesn’t seem to me like you’re in any position to bargain,” says Tommy Jr.
Sofia keeps her face still. “I want to guarantee Saul’s safety. You won’t harm him. This whole thing will be behind us.”
“You’d have to have pretty special information,” says Tommy Jr.
“I can give you Eli Leibovich,” says Sofia, “in exchange for Saul.”
Tommy is both curious and frustrated. His father has not given him the autonomy that, say, Joey Colicchio gave to Saul. Tommy’s work life is a long series of telephone calls to ask for permission and reports on his day and bookkeeping he wishes he could outsource. Truthfully, he should tie the Colicchio woman to a chair and call his father. But he is just smart enough to know that having one up on Eli Leibovich would be huge—so huge, in fact, that maybe he would be rewarded with a little of the independence he craves. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” he asks.
“How do I know you won’t kill Saul as soon as I give you what I have?” Sofia responds. “Trust.” She shrugs. “Honor.” And then, “It’s what our fathers would have done.”
“Tell me what you have,” says Tommy Jr.
“Promise me,” says Sofia, “that Saul will be unharmed.”
“I won’t touch the Jew,” says Tommy.
Sofia reaches into a pocket and pulls out a fistful of small, wire-bound notebooks. “This is all of Saul’s work for Eli,” she says. “I think he wants these docks. If you use these carefully, I think you’ll be able to stay one step ahead of him.”