Startled by Sly’s sudden change of approach, the man turned toward Sly, and to his complete surprise, the gun went off. While the man’s attention was on Sly, Bobby reversed and shot out of the warehouse and back around to where Sly had come in. Sly was down. And there was blood everywhere.

From a safe distance, the man sat watching, thinking what a bunch of fools! Is this how Americans live? Walking around blindly, bumbling into each other and falling down all the time? But he hadn’t noticed what the Professor had noticed or he wouldn’t have been thinking in such arrogant terms. Before the Professor righted himself, he had caught sight of a partially concealed, but plainly present M1942 Sosso Pistol, an Italian made handgun.

When Father exited Helen’s house, he did not see the running figure of Annie, who, having heard of his need for an Italian speaking military man, was shattered at the thought of being without Sly at Christmas. Tears streaked down her face as she raced toward the comfort and security of home.

She could hear his words ringing in her ears like an air raid siren. “Father’s asked me to accompany a sick soldier home. I would leave tomorrow but be back by Christmas.” Who was this Airman Ralph Jacobs? And why now? Why Dick, for heaven’s sakes? The man was shot down in Italy. Wasn’t that Sly and Bobby’s territory? Wasn’t it Harry’s? Maybe that’s what Annie had heard. So instead of using Sly, they dumped the duty onto Dick.

But there was definitely something going on. Helen had agreed. With Harry and Sly taking off before they even ate dinner that night before, there had to be. I’m glad I have Joanie and the others. I need the support, and the calming influence. They are just the ones to give me peace. Just as she was about to drift off with that comforting thought, the front door flew open and Joan burst in breathless. “Annie!” she said, turning to her. “I think that Nazi guy is right here in town!

She could see Albert standing at the door, hiding the bakery box behind him with his mischievous smile. When he revealed them, she had hugged him tight. The landlady had brought some expresso and the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs had enjoyed their cheesecake tarts in front of the little fireplace with fine Italian coffee. Even so long after Albert’s death, remembering that scene still brought her comfort.