And his bequest to me was in danger.

That was the essence, though there were other issues. Isabella’s family had an outstanding claim against the estate, as yet unsettled—and more recently, Dazio’s stepfather had moved to have himself named executor of his stepson’s portion of the estate.

“It’s a tangled situation. The government—if you fight them, it will be costly. And you will lose.”

“So what should I do?”

“Your husband was in the midst of negotiation with certain committee members, in their unofficial capacity. He had made agreements, in principle. I would capitulate on those quickly and gracefully. And as for Isabella’s family . . . their claim has moral legitimacy.”

“Moral?”

“They are Italian, you are not.”

“Oh.”

“What I am trying to tell you is that they have the public sentiment on their side. Give them what they want. You’ll still be a wealthy woman, just not as wealthy as you might have been. But you’ll have fewer enemies.”

“Only fewer?”

“I can’t eliminate them all . . . Meanwhile there’s one other change your husband wanted to address before he died . . . It needs your approval.”

“Yes?”

“In regards to Dazio.”

“What is it?

“In the event of his own death, Paulo wanted you to take on guardianship of Dazio’s trust . . . However . . . if you too should die before Dazio is of age, that duty would pass to me.”

“As opposed to the boy’s mother?”

“He distrusted the stepfather.”

“He should be distrusted,” I said. “But as to the rest of it, how do I know the others will be satisfied? The senators in particular.”

“I can talk to them.”

“All right.”

“You would like me to proceed?”

“I’ll speak with my brother.”

A silence followed, and I guessed that Johnny wasn’t welcome in the bargain.

“I’ll see what can be done,” said Ferragamo.

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