“You can’t arrest us,” Nicky said firmly. “All I did was dance with your women. Frankly, you should give me orthotics and a lifetime supply of Epsom salts.”
“When we find out why you did this, and what you stole, you’ll be lucky if we don’t do worse,” said Rocco. “For now, Eddie, his car is parked in an emergency zone. Book them on traffic violation. Take them in. And move it. Before we have an insurrection. The women have mobilized. Be afraid.”
Nicky and Hortense left the stage with Eddie Davanzo. The crowd cheered to see the impostors hauled off by the law.
Eddie guided Hortense and Nicky into the squad car.
“We’ll call a lawyer,” Uncle Dom assured them through the window.
“And we’ll get a good one,” Jo added. “Not his cousin Flavio, who does everything for cost.”
“How did they find us?” Nicky asked his aunt through the squad car window.
Jo gripped her handkerchief. “I’m sorry, Nicky. Peachy blew into the house like a wildcat and went down to the basement and tore through your room. She flipped drawers and even the mattress and she found the flyer for the Jubilee in the wastebasket. She’s desperate. And then Al and Connie showed up, and Al said he was going to kill you, and they drove here half-cocked, and we followed them.”
Eddie eased the squad car into reverse, to a chorus of boos from the crowd. He turned the car around and drove down Garibaldi to the Roseto Police Station.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mooney.”
“Too late for that. I’m cuffed.” Hortense held up her wrists.
“I thought we could pull this off,” Nicky said wearily.
“I figured you could too. I figured you could do anything. But now we know even you have limits.”
*
Eddie Davanzo brought Hortense a Dixie cup filled with water in the holding room of the police station. Hortense sipped it as she stood looking out the window as the Jubilee parade went down Garibaldi Avenue. Nicky sat in the corner, his head in his hands.
“Is there any news?” Hortense asked Eddie. “I need to get home.”
“The borough council is meeting. They can go on for a while.”
“Can you hear anything?”
“They’re squabbling. But that’s typical.”
“Thank you for not locking us up.”
“They haven’t determined a crime.” Eddie smiled, reassuring Hortense.
“Because there isn’t one,” Nicky said quietly.
“You’re going to have to let the council decide that.” Eddie closed the door, leaving Hortense and Nicky alone in the room.
“We were seconds away from blowing out of here.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Mrs. Mooney.”
“I want a Lilly Daché hat. The red one with the giant bow.” Hortense squinted out the window. “Nicky, come over here.”
Nicky joined her at the window to see Ambassador Carlo Guardinfante emerging from a black sedan.
“That must be the real cat.” Hortense pointed.
“It must be. He’s pretty trim.”
“That’s all you notice?”
“The medals?”
“No.”
“What good does it do us?”
“He’s here. They’ll want you gone.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re Italian. He’s one of your own. You’re going to ask him to cut us loose.”
“He might want to kill me too.”
“Let him. But first get me sprung.”
“I can’t. I’m tired.” Nicky plopped down in a chair.
“You’re tired? You? Nicholas Castone? Sit up. You don’t have a right to be weary when all you’ve done for three days is dance and chase women. Weary is going down in a coal mine. Weary is laying pipe in a city sewer. Weary is cleaning a house top to bottom and washing clothes in a wringer washing machine with bleach and hanging them out in the bitter cold until the skin on your fingers flakes off and then you have to go inside and press all that mess with a slug iron. Weary is pushing out a ten-pound baby after twelve hours of straining. Weary is building railroads.”
“I get it. I get it. I’m not sturdy.”
“No, you are not. But you’d better buck up. It’s one thing to put yourself in dutch, it’s another to drag me into a quagmire and leave me to sort it when the scheme goes south. And it went south. So figure this thing out because I need to get home. I have things to do. A life to live.” Hortense patted the Venetian beads around her neck. “And I want to see my girls again.”
Eddie poked his head in the door. “There are a couple of people here to see you.” Eddie opened the door, taking his official position as guard.
Mamie Confalone entered followed by Ambassador Carlo Guardinfante. Augie ran into the room. He looked at Carlo and then at Nicky. “Twins!”
“They look alike, don’t they?” Mamie said gently to her son.
“I’m going to take Augie,” Eddie told Mamie.
“Can I see the fire truck?” Augie asked him.
“Sure, honey, come on.” Eddie held his hand, and led him out, closing the door behind him.
Nicky stood. “Ambassador. Forgive me.”
“You don’t have to go into the story, I explained the situation. In Italian. The real Italian language that’s been spoken since Caesar,” Mamie said. “I told him everything.”
“Everything?”
“The part about you posing as him.”
“I want to make reparations to him.” Nicky looked at Carlo.
Mamie translated. Carlo nodded. Mamie invited Carlo, Hortense, and Nicky to sit at the conference table.
“I am deeply ashamed,” Nicky said to the ambassador as he leaned across the table.
Carlo folded his hands. “Sono venuto qui per celebrare il Giubileo, si, ma anche per incontrare il mio cugino. Ho un cugino, Alberto Funziani.”
“Funzi,” Mamie confirmed. “He has a cousin here. We know him.”
“é il presidente della banca,” Carlo said proudly.
“No,” Mamie said. “He thinks our Funzi is president of the bank.”
“No?” Carlo was confused.
“é il bidello presso la banca.” Mamie turned to Hortense and Nicky. “Funzi is the janitor, not the president.”
Carlo put his head in his hands.
“Is everybody in the two Rosetos leading a double life?” Hortense wondered aloud. “Is anybody who they say they are?”
“It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Mooney.” Nicky turned to Carlo. “What do you need? Maybe I can help,” Nicky offered.
The ambassador explained why he had come to Pennsylvania. “Una strada. Una strada che va dalla cima della collina verso il fondo, una strada di tre miglia per collegare la mia città al resto del paese. In questo momento, siamo abbandonati.”
Mamie translated. Hortense shook her head, leaned back, and closed her eyes.
“This is no time to nap,” Nicky chided her.
“I’m just resting my eyes,” Hortense retorted. “So my head doesn’t blow off my body and end up in Albany.”
“Mamie, will you please ask Rocco to come in here?”
“They’re in session, deciding what to do about you.”
“If I can speak to Rocco, I think we can settle the matter,” Nicky assured her.
Mamie left them in the holding room for a moment before returning with Eddie and Rocco.
“Rocco, I have a proposition,” Nicky began.
“So do I. I’ll see you in the county jail. You impostor. You poser. You thief. What kind of a man steals a Penn State band uniform—”