Getting Old Is to Die for (23 page)

Ida gives him a big, toothy smile. "Oh, just a souvenir to take home to our friends about our exciting trip."

"Back home we're private eyes," Sophie informs him.

Ida punches her arm. Sophie punches back. "Shh," Ida says.

"Yeah," Rocco says, not listening. He leads them to the front door. "Well, ladies, at least you tried. You're good citizens. Now you can go back to the festival and have a fun day."

Outside Sophie says to Ida, "What did you punch me for?"

"Because we failed completely. I didn't want to give the Gladdy Gold and Associates Detective Agency a bad name."

"So, what do we do now?" Bella asks.

Ida says, "Do what Rocco says. Let's have a good time." She grins at them. "And then figure out how to catch that crook."

The San Gennaro festival is in full blast. Crowds are everywhere along the cobblestone streets, having a good time. A forties-era band is playing on the bandstand and people are dancing the foxtrot. The girls, walking in the gutter, can hardly move. They are eating slices of pizza. With her free hand Bella is happily waving a small Italian flag. Ida scans the list Rocco gave them.

"It took us twenty minutes for this," Sophie says, indicating their treat. "Everything is one big line."

"And longer than that for the hot dogs. They were great." Bella smiles happily.

"They weren't hot dogs, they were Italian sausages," Sophie informs her. "And they weren't kosher."

"Who cares," says Bella. "They were delicious." She points. "What's this line for? It's really long. It's all around the corner."

"Who knows? Just get on. It must be for something good," Sophie says.

They join the end of the line. As they walk, each store they pass seems to have a loudspeaker blaring music. One is playing Sinatra, another is Julius La Rosa, another plays Perry Como. The girls wiggle their way along the line.

Ida indicates the list of churches. "Well, Saint this and Saint that...St. Joseph's Church on Waverly Place was robbed. And St. George's Ukrainian, too. According to what I pulled from the yellow pages, that leaves four churches that weren't hit yet. The closest ones to us are St. Veronica's and St. Luke's of the Field. I say we try one of them." She is suddenly aware she's in a moving line. "What are we getting this time?"

"Who knows?" says Bella. "It's so far away, it'll be a surprise."

Ida glances up and down the line. "Mostly women. Wearing black."

"Maybe it's the five-dollar Gucci bags. To go with the black outfits," Bella explains.

"Never mind," says Sophie, "Pay attention. Let's make a choice. Which church should we stake out? Gimme the list." She takes it from Ida and reads. "Hey, get this. According to our guidebook, St. Luke's is right next to Sophia's Restaurant. That's gotta be a sign."

"Okay, St. Luke's it is," says Ida. "When?"

They pass a small group playing a game on a little strip of dirt down an alleyway. The sign reads: "PLAY BOCCE!"

"Can we stop?" Bella asks.

"No, we'll lose our place."

Bella is disappointed. "I like bowling."

A few minutes later, they pass a man with a huge scale. "I can guess your weight," shouts the hawker. "Only three dollars. Your money back if I'm wrong."

"This I gotta do," says Sophie.

"Why?" asks Bella, annoyed. "You didn't let me stop to play ball."

"Just hold my place." Sophie rushes over to the obese guy in a green, red, and white striped suit who is running the scale concession.

Suddenly the line forges ahead. Bella calls, "Get back here, we're moving."

They turn the corner from Canal Street back onto Mulberry. From around the street they just left, Bella and Ida hear loud voices. Sophie is shouting, "You guessed wrong! Gimme my money back."

The man is yelling back at her, "You wiggled around on the scale. Stop jumping up and down!"

"I want my money back!"

"No, get lost!"

"Maybe you oughta get on your own scale. You'll break it and be out of business!"

Huffing and puffing, Sophie turns the corner and rejoins them. Bella asks, "Did you get your money back?"

"Of course I did." She is pensive. "Maybe I did gain a little weight. Maybe I should return his money."

"Let's get our minds on business," Ida says. "We're doing St. Luke's. What day?"

Bella says, "Well, tomorrow is Tuesday and that's seven letters. Seven is a lucky number."

All nod. "Okay, St. Luke's tomorrow, Tuesday. Time?"

Sophie mentions that three is her lucky number. "Three
P.M.
?"

"But that's broad daylight. Would he take that chance?" Ida asks.

"My lucky number says so," says Sophie.

"Works for me," says Bella as she nods her approval.

They now see their line approaching a church with a sign saying, "MOST PRECIOUS BLOOD CHURCH. WELCOME."

Suddenly they are aware that the line travels up the steps to an open door and that one by one, the people are entering the church.

"I think this is a mistake," Ida says "Quick, let's jump off."

But they are already too close to the front of the line. Sophie shrugs.

In the inner vestibule there is a priest standing near a sign that reads, "HOLY MASS. NOW IN PROGRESS."

They watch as each woman crosses herself, then the priest places something on their tongues.

When it's their turn, Bella curtsies.

"Well, that was interesting," Sophie says as they make their way back down the steps. They analyze the "cookie" they just ate.

"Could have used a little sugar," says Bella.

"I would have preferred chocolate," says Ida. "The wine was good."

"I would have liked seconds." Sophie shrugs. "Oh, well, never look a free cookie in the mouth."

36

SHOPPING

T
he Salvation Army is a treasure. The girls have a ball trying on the weirdest things they can find, looking in the mirror and giggling. They don't care if the other shoppers stare at them in annoyance.

Bella holds up a witch's black hat and a broom. "This is cute."

"Wrong holiday." Ida finally says, "Enough with the fun. If we're going to pretend we're bag ladies, we have to find some scruffy-looking stuff. We'll meet in the dressing room in ten minutes."

It isn't really a dressing room but three brown cloth-covered screens and a mirror. Ida and Bella are helping one another combine a series of ragged items into an outfit of sorts. They use ratty-looking scarves and old shirts and long, loose skirts and old sneakers. The colors are either faded or dark and murky-looking. They are dressed in their "disguises" when Sophie walks in. "Ugh," she says at the sight of them. "I wouldn't be caught dead in
shmatte
s like those."

"But that's the idea," says Bella. "We're supposed to be in rags, so the thief won't recognize us."

"Not me. Never." She shows them what she found. She holds up a lime green, off-the-shoulder evening gown with matching pointy shoes, clutch purse, and fake flower corsage with red and white flowers.

Ida is furious. "That's your idea of what a homeless woman would wear?"

Sophie presses the gown against her body and peers at herself in the mirror. She purses her lips, blows herself a kiss. "Gorgeous," she says.

Bella is confused. "I don't get it."

"My role will be that of a drunken, druggedout heiress sleeping it off on the church steps. Maybe we'll pick up a cheap bottle of champagne for a prop."

Ida looks at her, this impossible roommate, fairly stuttering with indignation. "You...you...are
not
a team player!"

Happily carrying their purchases, the girls exit the store. Ida says, "Now all we have to do is find a hardware store and buy our props."

"I've got the list." Bella reads off: "Fly swatter, bug spray, rolling pin, whistle, toilet plunger--"

Suddenly Sophie interrupts her by pinching Bella excitedly.

"Ouch. What?" Bella says in pain.

"That was him! That guy across the street."

"What guy?" Ida asks. "I see three women."

Sophie is jumping up and down. "It's the thief. He just ran around that corner. I would know that face anywhere!"

With that, balancing her shopping bags as best she can, she runs after him.

"Wait for us, for heaven's sakes," says Ida.

Bella hobbles after them, falling steadily behind.

Sophie and Ida turn the corner. This street is fairly crowded.

"Where is he?" Ida asks.

Sophie points. "There. The guy in black. Let's grab him!"

"Hold your horses," shouts Ida.

By now Bella makes her way around the corner, puffing and wheezing, stopping to lean on a lamp-post to catch her breath.

Sophie charges through the shoppers on this busy main street like a bowling ball heading down the lane for a strike.

"Gotcha!" she screeches, dropping her bags and grabbing onto the man's shoulders.

As she pulls him around, Ida catches up with her.

The startled man stares at his assailants in surprise. Both Ida and Sophie see the round white collar at the neck of this all-black outfit at the same time. "May I be of service?" he asks, trying to make sense of the attack. "I'm Father Francis Xavier. Who might you be?"

Sophie slumps.

"Who might she be?" Ida says malevolently. "She might be a card-carrying lunatic!" Ida pulls Sophie away by the scruff of her neck as a small crowd gathers.

"Sorry," mumbles Sophie, backing off, her face turning red.

Ida pulls her across the street to where Bella is standing, watching fearfully. Sophie shrugs off Ida's hands. "He's a dead ringer, I tell you. The spitting image!"

Ida shoots her an exasperated look. "Not even close. That was the priest who gave us the cookie; that's why he looked familiar."

As they stand there, Bella looks at Sophie and Ida and asks, "I wonder what Gladdy is doing? I hope she's having as much fun as we are."

37