Section Four       

     Half an hour later, at 11:30 am, the two hit men were on the east side. Elisa had last been heard from leaving for Olut to do some reconnaissance work—finding out about Perhe’s next meeting. As they walked in the door, there was a mad scramble of Finns ducking under tables or out the door. These men were obviously Sicilians, and dangerous ones at that. They approached the bar as the small, elderly bartender cowered beneath their girth.

            “Hey, Stubby. Did you see a good-looking Italian broad in here last night? Brown eyes, auburn hair, pretty face?”

            “N-n-n-o…I see no girl here. Sven, he work yesterday. Not me. No.” The poor man’s eyes were wide with fear, and his entire body trembled along with his voice.

            “You’re not a very good liar, Pops,” the other hit man said to him. “In fact, I’m willing to bet eight to five there is no Sven. Now,” he said, his face becoming even more threatening, “Where is she?”

            The bartender gulped and pointed towards the alley door. “She leave…there.” The first Sicilian took a highball glass in his hand and crushed it like a paper cup, sending shards of glass flying.

            “Anything else you need to tell us?”

            The bartender hung his head. “She were followed…by Mauser.” The men smiled threateningly and patted his shoulder as they left out the alley door. They hopped in their black Mercury Model AA and headed for what they knew to be the Isoisä’s estate. The next part would be tricky—they had to find out where that stinking Mauser Matiel dwelled. If they found him, they would find Elisa.

            In the penthouse, Elisa sat sideways in an armchair with her legs draped over the side, Matiel facing her. Elisa had relaxed some, partially due to the three martinis she had already consumed, finally deciding she was more or less safe. She had, in fact, begun to take a liking to the charming Finn. Matiel, of course, was enamored with her. However, he did not want to take any chances as he struggled to repress his true feelings. He would stick to his imagination for now. Elisa smiled at him.      “Matiel,” she started. The Italian had stopped calling him ‘scatto’, already a marked improvement. “What do we do now? If you let me go, you could be exiled, or worse. If I stay with you, the same happens, but under a different family. And I would be expected to kill you anyway.”

            “Don’t worry your head, prinsessa. We will work something out.” Matiel had called her ‘prinsessa’ from the beginning, but it didn’t mean then what it meant to him now. “Please, Elisa. Join me in one last drink.” Elisa rose from the chair, already a bit tipsy. As she turned, Matiel stood in front of her, a strange expression on his face. His fedora tilted at a jaunty angle, he looked the epitome of class. Elisa had no chance. He took her by the wrists, taking care not to injure her, and pulled her to his chest. He tilted his head as he embraced her, kissing her slowly with tenderness and passion all rolled into one. Elisa’s eyes were wide with surprise, but as the kiss overtook her, she slowly closed them. This kiss was one that contained more passion, with more feeling, than anything before seen in New York. As they broke apart, Elisa’s beautiful face was soft, graced by a dreamy expression. Matiel looked at her with adoration. “Elisa,” he whispered, “do you believe in love at first sight? True, pure love?”

            “Matiel…love is everything. There are two types of love: true love, and love that you just take because it’s convenient. Right now I think I’m experiencing both. From the moment I saw you in the deli, I was intrigued. I was not at Olut entirely to spy on Parhe. I knew you’d be there.” Matiel smiled at her and once again they embraced for a kiss.

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