“I respect your family, I really do,” he says. “But I put myself at a lot of risk for you.”

“Papa appreciates all your work,” says Sofia.

“I know that,” says Leo. He raises his eyes from his plate to Sofia and she realizes with a start that there is a flicker of fear there. Fear of her? “Please make sure he knows that I know that.”

“Of course,” says Sofia.

“It’s just, a man of my age,” says Detective Leo. “I’m five years away from my pension. If I’m going to rock the boat—if I’m going to break the rules—damn, excuse me, madam, but damn, this is a good eggplant parmesan.” It’s gloppy, Sofia thinks. The cheese is hardening over the flavorless filling like amber over an insect.

“It’s delicious, isn’t it,” says Sofia.

“I’ve always trusted your papa,” says Detective Leo.

“He trusts you too,” says Sofia. “He’s said the nicest things about you.”

“Has he?” asks Detective Leo, and Sofia knows this was the right thing to say because Detective Leo looks tickled pink, a little rosy. “Well, that’s very—that’s nice of him—good man, Joey Colicchio.” He trails off and takes another bite of food. “I have children, you know,” he says. “They depend on me. I’ve been able to give them some extra—well, times have been hard.”

“I understand,” says Sofia. “I have a daughter myself. I would do anything for her, too.”

“You have a daughter?” And here, Sofia can see, Detective Leo’s eyes glance appraisingly at her waist. People often do this. They have to imagine Sofia pregnant in order to determine whether her child has ruined her. She keeps her face carefully blank. “Your papa,” says Detective Leo, “did a real special thing, during the war, for people who needed it. People who were escaping something awful, you know, all that Nazi scum. Well, we showed them, didn’t we. And I guess you might not understand this, but I just want some credit where credit’s due. I have to advocate for myself.” Detective Leo has finished inhaling his meal and sits back against his chair to regard Sofia through his thick dark glasses. There is a speck of tomato at the corner of his mouth. “Your old dad’s an honorable man,” he says, “so I think he’ll understand where I’m coming from.” And Sofia can see, now, clearly, what Leo needs.

“You know,” she says, “I don’t think he would have been able to run his business without you.”

“Really?” asks Leo. “Well, I guess you need someone who knows the ins and outs.” Leo takes a sip of water to disguise a slow smile, but Sofia sees it.

“Yes, certainly,” says Sofia. “I know how much he values you.”