AS IN MOST of Europe, breakfast was part of the hotel stay in Naples, and usually meant a nice display of cheeses, cured meats, breads and fruit, along with boiled eggs, yogurt and cereal. The Grand Vesuvio did not disappoint. Not only did the breakfast boast a delectable spread, the floor-to-ceiling windows in the dining room faced the Bay of Naples and Mount Vesuvius.
“I checked with the concierge and the museum opens at ten,” Janice said, laying a phone book on the breakfast table. “And they let me have this. I guess no one puts phone books in hotel rooms anymore with the Internet.”
“And cell phones,” Annie said, buttering her toast. “While you’re making calls, I’ll use your laptop to keep searching.”
“It’s a good thing we’re looking for the older generation. I doubt younger folks even have a landline. What would Elena be now if she’s alive?” Janice asked.
“Older than Grandma. And her son would be in his sixties.”
She thumbed through the phone book. “Caivano … Caivano …” Annie said, letting her finger trail down the list of names beginning with a C. “Here it is,” she said. And then her heart sank as she scanned the long list. “There’s a hundred or more. But no Elena.”
“Finish your toast so we can get started,” Janice said.
***
Janice settled into a comfortable chair and began calling while Annie used her friend’s laptop to search the Internet once again, something they had both already done back in the states. This time she tried different search combinations to see if any new information might turn up. Meanwhile, Janice called and explained in Italian to each person who answered what she was looking for. “Eduardo,” she said at one point, looking at Annie. “Mille grazie.” Janice hung up the phone. “E for Edoardo, not Elena.”
On and on it went for more than an hour.
Finally Janice hung up the phone. “No one knows anything about Elena Caivano or the store. I even gave the address and nothing is familiar. Did you mark the ones we called?” Janice asked.
“You called forty, but eight didn’t answer. This afternoon might be just as good or better for catching people at home.”
“Yeah, we’re right in the middle of mass time now, and most families have lunch afterwards.”
They left a short time later for the museum. Annie drove the Ferrari slowly downhill to the historic center, bumping over ancient cobblestone streets.
“Turn right,” Janice said and she turned a quick right onto a narrow street.
“Not here, the next one,” Janice said. “This is one-way!”
A driver barreled toward them. Annie slammed on the brakes and he threw up his hand in disgust. She backed out of the street and hoped for a break in traffic.
“We should have taken a taxi,” she said, shifting the gear into first.
After another wrong street, they finally arrived at the large stone structure with a small sign posted outside the door.
“Park there,” Janice said, pointing to a marked space just in front of the museum.
“Are you sure the sign means it’s okay to park here?” Annie asked.
“It’s Sunday; it’ll be fine.”
Inside, a woman with gray hair sat at the information desk. Janice spoke quickly in Italian.
The older woman smiled and responded, then pointed to the exhibits behind her. Janice spoke again and she caught the words in Italian that meant World War II.
The woman nodded and pointed in another direction and spoke again. Janice translated for Annie.
“There is an exhibit here on World War II and its effect on Naples we can see today. There is a woman who is an expert on the era who she recommends we speak to, but she is not working today since it’s Sunday. While we are looking at the exhibit, the woman I talked to offered to call her and make an appointment for tomorrow morning if she is available.”
“I’m so anxious, I wish we could meet her today,” Annie said as she walked to the entrance of the World War II exhibit.
“Italians take resting on Sunday pretty seriously. I’m a little surprised the museum is even open,” Janice said.
“My grandfather always said, ‘Work on Sunday, come hard on Monday.’”
“Are we working?” Janice asked.
“We’re in Italy. How can anything feel like work here?”
The exhibit showed pictures of Naples during World War II giving her an idea of what the city looked like back then. She learned Naples was the most bombed Italian city during the war. Many pictures showed the destruction. One picture showed an American GI holding a young Italian girl who clutched a pillow to her breast, her expression one of shock. Another showed a young, disheveled mother holding her baby on her knee, sitting next to baskets of onions for sale. There was a street scene with American naval troops milling about and another showed the busy port. Seeing the pictures steeled Annie’s determination to find Elena and her child.
When they left the exhibit, the woman from the information desk waved Janice over. They exchanged a few words and she handed Janice a piece of paper.
“We have an appointment at nine tomorrow morning, before the museum opens,” Janice said.
“At least it’s early so we can have the rest of the day to track down leads.”
“There’s one more thing,” Janice said. “The woman we will meet with tomorrow … her name is Elisabetta Caivano.”
“Do you think … ?”
“I don’t know,” Janice said, pushing open the museum doors. “There might be a connection.”
Janice grabbed her arm and stopped short. “Look!” she said, and pointed.
Annie followed her friend’s finger.
“What? I don’t see anything,” Annie said.
“Exactly. The Ferrari’s gone.”
The parking space was empty. The red sports car had vanished.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Annie put her hands on her head. “Why do I let you talk me into things?”
“Quit moaning and come on,” Janice said, turning on her heels. “We need to report it now while the trail is fresh.”
Inside, Janice explained to the information booth attendant. Annie watched and listened as the woman spoke quickly back to Janice and then back and forth. Finally, the woman shook her head and picked up the phone.
“What?”
“Well, I didn’t actually read the parking sign. It was a tow zone and she said they are vigilant about towing here. Even on Sundays. She’s trying to locate it for us.”
Annie waited while endless conversations in Italian went back and forth between Janice and the museum volunteer, then the volunteer and the phone. When the older woman hung up the phone, she wrote something down for Janice on a piece of paper, and then picked up the phone again while Janice walked away.
“She called a taxi for us. We have to pay a fine and we can get it out.”
“How much exactly does insurance cover?”
In a few minutes, the taxi pulled up. Janice handed the driver the address and they got in the backseat.
“It’ll be fine. It’s all bravado,” Janice said.
“Bravado? Didn’t you tell me this is the home of the Mafia, or some form of mafia, and I think you also said …”
“Shhh!” Janice said and then whispered. “Don’t say that word around here, they’re sensitive to it.”
Annie looked at Janice as if she had just grown a second nose. Janice stared back but began smiling. A giggle worked its way through the jet lag and stress. They both began laughing; the predicament seemed suddenly hilarious. The taxi driver stared at them unsmiling when he stopped the car at the impound center. After they paid him and got out, the driver took off with squealing tires, which only made them laugh harder.
Annie sobered as she looked around at the shabby surroundings.
“If our car’s not here, we might be in trouble,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” Janice said. “I’ve got a number to call in case of emergency. Let’s go.”
The entrance door was locked, but Janice found a button to press and waited for a response. When it came, she spoke back in Italian and waited for the buzzer to sound. The door clicked and they went inside.
Concrete walls, fluorescent lights and a tile floor made the room seem nearly like a prison. The thought made Annie shudder and she pulled her scarf tighter around her shoulders.
“Buongiorno,” Janice said.
The young man at the counter raised his eyebrows and smiled.
Janice launched into the reason they were there. He nodded, all the while ogling them, up and down.
Disgusted, Annie walked to a window while the conversation went on and looked into the compound area. The red Ferrari was sitting just behind the building in perfect condition. Three young men were standing around it, each taking turns posing for pictures in front of the car.
“Alright, we’re paid up. But it wiped me out, you’ll have to buy lunch.” Janice said.
“Expensive?”
“You don’t know the half of it. He offered to waive the fee if …” Janice said rolling her eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”