* * *
—
Over the next week, Sofia meets with Joey alone several times. He pours her a glass of wine and shuts the parlor doors behind them. He sits, spread-kneed across from her, and he says, it’s time you learned some things about how this works.
* * *
—
Sofia’s first assignment is with Detective Leo Montague, who, Joey explains, has been willing to let certain things slide for many years. He got a cut of their profits as early as Prohibition, and he and Joey have achieved a tenuous mutual respect in their decades working together. He has been invaluable throughout the war. “But we aren’t going to be making the same kind of money anymore,” Joey says, “and that’s a tricky thing to tell a man.” Joey mentioned Leo might have to take a pay cut on the phone and Leo said, whoa now, Colicchio, not sure I’m willing to do that. And then he was quiet for a minute, and then he said, don’t forget, you need me. And it had taken everything Joey had not to slam the phone down so hard it cracked. Joey could scare Leo into submission, but it would be possible for Leo to hurt Joey very badly in return. They could both lose. These things escalate quickly. “I think you’ll be good at this,” says Joey to Sofia. “You might not remember, but you spent every Sunday dinner sneaking around the table, trying to collect gossip, trying to understand everyone.” Sofia remembers the thrill of conning her way into a tight-knit circle of women, into a smoky group of men.
So Sofia is to go to lunch with the detective, and she is to avoid the details of business with him, the limited outlines of which Joey has shared with her. She is to listen more than she talks. When she told Saul, gleeful, he got very quiet.
“It’s perfect, Saul,” Sofia says. “It’s work, and it’s exciting, and it’s not dangerous.”
“It’s all connected,” says Saul. “It’s all dangerous.”
But Sofia won’t be deterred.
* * *
—
Sofia meets Detective Leo in a candlelit trattoria for a late lunch. Joey has told her what to order. “Eggplant parmigiana,” she says. “for me and for my friend here. Grazie.” Her heart is pounding with excitement. She looks at Leo appraisingly. “It’s the best here,” she says, though in truth Joey has told her this is the meal Detective Leo loves, and they want him to be comfortable. But, Papa, she had asked Joey, what do I say to him? Joey had cupped her face with his two hands and said, just be yourself.
Detective Leo is in his late fifties with shocks of salt-and-pepper hair, ill-tamed, and thick square glasses. He reminds Sofia of what might happen if Saul put on twenty-five years, forty pounds, and a little American bravado.
“So you’re the daughter?” he asks. “I think I met you once.”
“You might have,” says Sofia. She is wondering how to steer the conversation toward the Family without seeming like she is doing it. But Detective Leo dives right in as soon as their meals arrive.
“I respect your family, I really do,” he says. “But I put myself at a lot of risk for you.”
“Papa appreciates all your work,” says Sofia.
“I know that,” says Leo. He raises his eyes from his plate to Sofia and she realizes with a start that there is a flicker of fear there. Fear of her? “Please make sure he knows that I know that.”
“Of course,” says Sofia.
“It’s just, a man of my age,” says Detective Leo. “I’m five years away from my pension. If I’m going to rock the boat—if I’m going to break the rules—damn, excuse me, madam, but damn, this is a good eggplant parmesan.” It’s gloppy, Sofia thinks. The cheese is hardening over the flavorless filling like amber over an insect.
“It’s delicious, isn’t it,” says Sofia.
“I’ve always trusted your papa,” says Detective Leo.
“He trusts you too,” says Sofia. “He’s said the nicest things about you.”
“Has he?” asks Detective Leo, and Sofia knows this was the right thing to say because Detective Leo looks tickled pink, a little rosy. “Well, that’s very—that’s nice of him—good man, Joey Colicchio.” He trails off and takes another bite of food. “I have children, you know,” he says. “They depend on me. I’ve been able to give them some extra—well, times have been hard.”
“I understand,” says Sofia. “I have a daughter myself. I would do anything for her, too.”