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“No.” The receptionist belched smoke. “Melania? She the wife?”
“Yes. Giova
“Oh, Gio, we know.”
Gio. Giova
“Way back.”
“How old a man is he?”
“Almost seventy-five. He’s semi-retired, hardly comes in anymore.”
“If he’s not coming back, can you tell me where he lives?” Mary asked, intrigued. Jackma
“Sorry. He has a cell phone, but he won’t answer it. He can’t be reached today unless you’re the Coast Guard.”
Mary couldn’t believe her ears. “What did you say?”
“He’s fishing.”
Wahoo! “What time does he finish? When is he coming in? Docking, whatever? Better yet, where does he fish from?”
“You want to go to the marina?”
“I have to, it’s my job. It’s that important to him. Money is involved. Major money.”
The secretary’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I see. A will. Did Gio leave him money?”
Yeah, right. “I’m not at liberty to say. Just tell me, where does he come in from fishing? From.” Huh?
The secretary rattled off a marina address, and Mary thanked her and scooted out the door.
Thirty-Nine
The sun was setting on the other side of town, and Pe
The marina was smallish, with only a few ski
Mary hurried down the walkway, pretending she wasn’t a landlubber, and burst through a cyclone fence gate in defiance of the MEMBERS ONLY sign. She waved her hand to get Jackma
Jackma
“Every day.” Jackma
“No. Your secretary told me you’d be here.” Mary sized him up. He looked like a no-nonsense kind of guy and she was sick of lying. “My name’s Mary, and it’s important that I talk to you. I wanted to get some information about Giova
“Take this can, would you?” Jackma
“Argh!” She jumped back in horror, almost dropping the can. Long alien-worms with zillions of legs slithered all over one another. One looked up at her with three little black eyes. “Gross! What are they?”
“Bloodworms. Don’t put your hand in there, hon. They attach right to ya.” Jackma
“I understand you were at Mr. Saracone’s funeral lunch, and your secretary said you two go way back. I was wondering if you could tell me -”
“You want information, you can work for it.” Jackma
“Okay.” Mary set the cooler down as instructed. “So how long did you know Saracone?”
“Long time.” Jackma
“Since the war?”
Jackma
“How did you know him? How did you meet?”
“Everybody knew Gio. I was in college, working part-time with my dad, outta the shipyard. Gio was around all the time, with the lunch truck.” Jackma
Mary set it down with the other stuff, and it rattled. “Did you say lunch truck?” Saracone had a lunch truck? Can you get to Birchrunville on a lunch truck?
“You know, a lunch truck. Sold soda, egg sandwiches, and hoagies to the guys fishing off the docks. That’s how hoagies got its name, you know.” Jackma
“Really?” The one thing about Philly that Mary hadn’t known. It was a whole new world down here. She kept looking at the fishing rods. “Why do you have so many rods? You switch ’em around when you fish?”
“No, there’s rod holders. The rods go in there when we drop anchor.” Jackma
Gio. “Did you know anyone named Amadeo Brandolini, from when you worked on the docks? He was older than you or Gio, by about twenty years.”
Jackma
“Yes, an immigrant. He didn’t speak much English. He had a wife and son.”
“Don’t know him.” Jackma
Damn! It was a dry hole. Jackma
“Yep. Always did. Born on the water.”
“Amadeo Brandolini was a fisherman, too.”
“You’re a lawyer, right?”
“I didn’t know it showed.”
Jackma
“But Amadeo started a small fishing business. I don’t know where exactly he fished, since it’s all built up now, but I think it was right off the port.”
“There were plenty of places to fish, then. Still are.”