Malloy nodded, and she got up and started for the door.
“Valentina,” he said, stopping her before she could open it. “The night Nainsi died, Joe made a lot of noise when he came in. Did you hear Nainsi yell out to him to be quiet?”
She gave it a moment’s thought. “No, I didn’t hear anything until that baby started crying the next morning and wouldn’t stop, and I went into Nainsi’s room . . .” She shuddered. “Can I go?” she whined.
“Yes,” Malloy said, and Gino opened the door for her.
She fairly ran out.
“That wasn’t much help,” Gino observed, closing the door behind her.
“No, it wasn’t,” Malloy agreed. “According to her, none of the Ruoccos could’ve killed Mrs. O’Hara.”
“Unless Joe snuck out again after he brought Antonio home.”
“If he did—or if anyone did—no one would ever admit it,” Sarah pointed out.
“So we’re back to Zio Ugo and his men,” Gino sighed.
“We’re missing something. We’ve got to be,” Malloy insisted. “Let’s go over it all again.”
“Ahem,” Sarah said meaningfully. “Could we find a place where we’ll be welcome if someone were to see us?”
“I guess we should leave,” Gino allowed. He opened the door and looked out into the hallway. “Nobody out there.
Mrs. Brandt, you go first.”
Sarah stole down the hallway and out the door into the alley where Gino had admitted them earlier. After glancing around to make sure no one had paid attention to her some-what hasty escape, she slowed her pace and walked down to the street corner, where Malloy and Gino soon joined her.
“There’s a coffeehouse on the corner,” Gino pointed out.
The three of them adjourned there. When they’d ordered coffee, Malloy gave Sarah one of his looks. “How do you always manage to get mixed up in these things?”
Sarah feigned shock. “If I remember correctly, you came to my house and begged me to do this.”
“I don’t mean . . . Oh, never mind. All right, what do we know about Nainsi?”
“She met Antonio at a dance house and tricked him into thinking he was the father of her baby,” Gino supplied helpfully.
“But we know he wasn’t because the baby was started in June, and he didn’t even meet her until August,” Malloy said.
“And she was already at least two months gone by then, maybe more,” Sarah added.
“But her friends say she was seeing an Italian man months before that,” Malloy said. “A rich Italian man.”
“Uncle Ugo?” Gino offered with a grin.
“A girl like Nainsi wouldn’t fall in love with Ugo no matter how much money he had,” Sarah assured them. “Do you have any idea who the man could have been?”
“We were considering Lorenzo,” Malloy told her, watching for her reaction.
“Lorenzo?” she echoed in surprise, trying to see him through Nainsi’s eyes. “What made you think of him?”
“We know he took Antonio out to the dance houses because Mrs. Ruocco wouldn’t let him go alone. That probably means he had been going to them himself before that.
He could’ve met Nainsi and seduced her.”
“Antonio said Mrs. Ruocco wants to find him a wife, but Lorenzo doesn’t want to get married,” Gino said.
“He especially wouldn’t want to marry an Irish girl he met at a dance house,” Sarah guessed. “His mother would never stand for it!”
“He could’ve eloped with her, like Antonio did, but maybe he’s not as noble as Antonio,” Malloy said.
“Or maybe he just didn’t want to,” Sarah surmised. “But we’re getting way ahead of ourselves. What makes you think Lorenzo even knew Nainsi, much less fathered her child?”
“Didn’t you say that Lorenzo was the one who stood up for Maria when she wanted to keep the baby?” Malloy asked.
“Yes, I did. He’s been very supportive. He even sits up with her when the baby cries at night.”
“You just heard Valentina say he spends a lot of time with the baby, and Antonio said the same thing. Why would a bachelor take such an interest in someone else’s bastard?”
“Oh, my,” Sarah said, as the pieces started to fall into place. “You’re right. Lorenzo even mentioned that he didn’t approve of Antonio’s marriage. Of course he wouldn’t want his baby brother saddled with a girl like that.”
“He wouldn’t like having Nainsi living under his roof, either,” Gino said.
“But she wasn’t going to be living under his roof anymore,” Malloy reminded them. “Mrs. Ruocco was going to throw her out.”
Something deep in Sarah’s memory stirred. “Nainsi wasn’t worried about getting thrown out, though,” she recalled.
“She was almost smug when Mrs. Ruocco threatened her. If Lorenzo was the baby’s father, then all she had to do was tell Mrs. Ruocco the truth. She wouldn’t throw her grandson out, no matter which of her sons was the father.”
“Lorenzo couldn’t have that,” Malloy said. “So he killed her.”
“And then he fell in love with his son,” Sarah realized.
“I’ve seen it happen many times. That’s why he stood up to Ugo when he wanted them to get rid of the baby.”
Gino had been listening to them with great interest. “This is a really good theory,” he said. “So how do we prove it?”
13
This silenced all of them. Sarah saw the discouragement in Malloy’s dark eyes and the hopelessness in Gino’s.
“We’ll have to bring him in,” Malloy said finally, but without much enthusiasm.
“All he has to do is keep his mouth shut, though,” Gino reminded them. “We can’t prove a thing without a confession . . . or witnesses.”
“His family won’t turn on him, even if they know he did it,” Sarah said. “And I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted any of them to know. Nainsi’s death was silent in the darkness, and no one saw the killer going into Mrs. O’Hara’s flat. He surely would’ve waited until the family was asleep—and Joe and Antonio were out—before he left for her place.”
Malloy was rubbing his chin. “But Mrs. O’Hara was working on her ties when she died. If it was late at night, she would’ve been in bed.”
“Maybe not,” Sarah said. “Piecework doesn’t pay very much, so the only way to earn more is to make more. People sometimes work all night.”
“In the dark?” Malloy asked.
“Was there a lamp on the table?”
“Yes, but it was empty.”
“Then she might have been burning it, and it went dry after she died.”
“Or it might have been empty, and she died when it was still daylight,” Malloy argued back.
“Either way, there’s still no reason Lorenzo couldn’t have done it,” Gino pointed out. “Even if Valentina didn’t see him leave the house all day, he could have. He wouldn’t have been gone long.”
“Then let’s go bring him in,” Malloy said wearily. He laid money on the table for the coffee and rose from his seat.
Sarah gathered her things and preceded the men out into the street.
“Thank you for all your help, Mrs. Brandt,” Malloy said formally, because Gino was there.
“I don’t think I helped much,” she demurred.
“Yes, you did,” Gino assured her. “We wouldn’t have dared talk to Valentina without you.”
