Canidy said, “I’m not at all happy with the idea of the mob getting them.”
Nola shrugged. “What can I say? Better than the Japs.”
“I heard that they had to pull a whole shipment off one of the Liberty ships.”
Nola shrugged again. “If you say. I do not know. I am sorry.”
Well, this is starting out as some fine partnership, Canidy thought.
He said, “Have you seen Lanza today?”
“Yes, he was here at the market.”
“Was or is? I’d like to see him.?
?
Nola walked over to the desk and picked up the phone and asked for a number.
“This is Frank Nola,” he said after a moment. “Is Mr. Lanza still there?” There was a pause. “At his office? Thank you.”
He broke off the connection by pushing the receiver hook down with his index finger, then asked for another number.
“Mr. Lanza? Frank Nola—
“Yes, sir, those fish were processed, packed, and loaded—
“Probably three days. The Annie should be out right now—
“Yes, sir, I will. Mr. Lanza, I have Mr. Canidy here. He wants to see you—
“I will. Good-bye.”
He put the receiver in its hook and looked at Canidy.
“He said to come by his office. He has something for you. He’s going to get something to eat, then he’ll be back there till midnight.”
“In Meyer’s Hotel?”
“Room two-oh-one.”
“Okay,” Canidy said, carrying his attaché case to the desk. “In the meantime, I hope I can find something that you do know about. I brought some charts of Sicily and the islands. Think we can start with a tour?”
Nola nodded. “Yes. And I may have other things that would be of help.”
Canidy unfolded the chart that covered the southern coast of Sicily.
“We run boats from here at Porto Empedocle,” Nola began, pointing to a midpoint on the southern coast of the island, “across the Strait of Sicily down to the Black Pearl, then over to Tunisia.” He paused. “Do you have a chart that shows Africa?”
“Hang on,” Canidy said and pulled the Michelin Guide from his attaché.
Nola took it and flipped to a regional map that included a sliver of the northern African coast just under Sicily, then continued, “To here at Nabeul, then up and around Cape Bon and into Tunis itself.”
Canidy pointed at the Sicilian island in the strait that was closer to Tunisia than to Sicily. “The Black Pearl?”
Nola nodded.
“Pantelleria,” he explained. “It is volcanic rock—black rock—about fourteen by eight or nine kilometers. It’s known for its capers, figs, lentils, grapes. I have cousins there. Rizzo is the family name. Many Rizzos there. They are tonnarotti.”