“If we don’t get her,” he said, “someone else will, Steve. She’s a federal problem. You understand.”

“I’ll be careful. Don’t you worry.”

That wasn’t the point, but Danny’d grown used to Steve missing the point lately. He closed his eyes, head back against the window, as the el car bumped and rattled along.

“You think you can get me the four bucks soon?” Steve asked.

Danny kept his eyes closed because he feared Steve would see the contempt in them if he opened them. He kept them closed and nodded once.

At Batterymarch station, he declined Steve’s offer of a drink, and they went their separate ways. By the time Danny reached Salem Street, he was starting to see spots. He could picture his bed, the white sheets, the cool pillow….

“And how’ve you been keeping then, Danny?”

Nora crossed the street toward him, stepping between a horse-drawn wagon and a sputtering tin lizzy that chucked great bursts of ink-colored smoke from its tailpipe. When she reached the curb, he stopped and turned fully toward her. Her eyes were false and bright and she wore a pale gray blouse he’d always liked and a blue skirt that left her ankles exposed. Her coat looked thin, even for the warming air, and her cheekbones were too pronounced. Her eyes sat back in her head.

“Nora.”

She held out a hand to him in a manner he found comically formal and he shook it as if it were a man’s.

“So?” she said, still working the brightness into her eyes.

“So?” Danny said.

“How’ve you been keeping?” she said a second time.

“I’ve been fair,” he said. “You?”

“Tip-top,” she said.

“Swell news.”

“Aye.”

Even at eight in the evening, the North End sidewalks were thick with people. Danny, tired of being jostled, took Nora by the elbow and led her to a café that was nearly empty. They took a seat by the small window that overlooked the street.

She removed her coat as the proprietor came out of the back, tying his apron on, and caught Danny’s eye.

“Due caffè, per favore.”

“Sì, signore. Venire a destra in su.”

“Grazie.”

Nora gave him a hesitant smile. “I forgot how much pleasure that gave me.”

“What’s that?”

“Your Italian. The sound of it, yeah?” She looked around the café and then out at the street. “You seem at home here, Danny.”

“It is home.” Danny suppressed a yawn. “Always has been.”

“And now how about that molasses flood?” She removed her hat and placed it on a chair. She smoothed her hair. “They’re saying it was definitely the company’s fault?”

Danny nodded. “Looks to be the case.”

“The stench is awful still.”

It was. Every brick and gutter and cobblestone crack in the North End held some residual evidence of the flood. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Insects and rodents had tripled in number, and the disease rate among children erupted.

The proprietor returned from the back and placed their coffees in front of them. “Qui andate, signore, signora.”