Chapter 27

The rain had let up by evening, and Vittorio, a single rose in his hand, arrived early in front of the school. He tried to stay calm, but every time he reached into his pocket and felt the little box containing her wedding ring, his heart drummed in double time. He strained his eyes in the direction from which Kitty would come. The street was dark, and except for two men strolling along, it was empty. Of all evenings for her to be late, he thought, shaking his head. He concentrated on tomorrow, on the arrangements he and his mother had made. She would sleep in his room tonight and he on the sofa in the parlor. Then tomorrow, they would see Father Copo. With Paolo and Antonia as witnesses, they would be married. Married! Marrying Kitty was something he had thought about for a long time. Now it was almost here.

He had just finished a job and could take a week off. He would surprise her with a trip to the country. They would walk along wooded paths by day, sit by a crackling fireplace in the evening, and spend the night wrapped in each other’s arms, not sleeping until dawn.

He awoke from his reverie and searched the street. Perhaps, he thought, I have gotten it confused and she is in class right now. That must be it. With that thought, he settled down to wait some more.

Peering into the entrance of the school, he was relieved to finally see the students walking down the hall, hurrying down the steps and into the night. He watched as everyone passed him. Singly or in pairs, they were oblivious to the pain on his face as he watched the class disperse, leaving only a student or two to trickle out. He loped into the building, the halls echoing his solitary footsteps, looking until he found Jane Cass. She looked up from stuffing papers into her briefcase.

“Miss Cass, I’m Vittorio Rossi. Has Kitty been to class this evening?”

“Why, no. Is something wrong?”

“I was supposed to meet her here. We were going to elope.” He had not planned to reveal it, but he was suddenly like an onlooker watching an event he had no control of, and he needed to share the pain.

“Vittorio, I know she loves you. I’m sure it’s just a mix-up; you’ll see.”

“Her father has forbidden us to marry. She could have changed her mind.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation. I’ll walk out with you.”

She waited with him a while but eventually had to go home, leaving him in front of the school, where he waited half the night, his mind racing from one fear to another. What if she is sick, or had an accident? I believe she loves me, but what of her father and Dermot? She could have stayed with them; he had given her that choice. Whatever the reason, the reality overwhelmed him. Kitty had not come. He had to see her.

He raced through the streets until he reached her tenement. It was two o’clock in the morning. He searched for some pebbles and, one by one, launched them at her window. The pebble arced its way through the night, then made a perfect clink as it rapped the glass. After each one, he waited. No answer.

He had exhausted his options. Too despondent to go home, he sat on her front steps, heedless of the hour and the chill, and tried to figure out what to do next, but his mind refused to work.

“Vittorio, what happened? Where’s Kitty?” Ottavia had paced the floor, a prayer at her lips for fear that something had gone wrong.

“Kitty didn’t come. I waited and waited.” He sank into a chair and buried his head in his hands.

“My dear, I know she loves you. Is she at home?”

“I went to her house and threw pebbles at her window. She didn’t answer. I don’t know if she couldn’t leave her family or if she’s somewhere else, hurt and not able to come.”

“Don’t torture yourself, my dear. Get some rest. There’s nothing more you can do tonight. Tomorrow go and speak to her or her father.”

Vittorio spoke the thought she was afraid to voice. “If she isn’t home, I’ll check the hospitals. I’ll find her.”

“I’m sure you will. It will be straightened out.” Ottavia hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She knew in her heart that Kitty loved her son; a woman can see those things. What had happened to Kitty that prevented her from following her heart? Ottavia could not bring herself to think the worst.

In the few hours before dawn, Vittorio tossed in his bed. Up early, he went directly to the Dwyers’ home. The sound of his knocking echoed eerily in his head. He peered in through the windows to find everything in order but no one home. His next step was the hospitals and—he shuddered at the thought—the morgue.

He made the morgue his first stop. Images of Kitty lying still and white haunted his thoughts as he walked the cold streets. How could the world, so beautiful yesterday, shrivel in on itself, cold and unwelcoming, today?

The morgue chilled him with its grayness, official notices thumbtacked across gray walls, and seated behind a battered desk, a colorless man with thick glasses, reading. The man looked up.

“My fiancée is missing. I’ve come to see if… Was a young woman admitted yesterday or today?”

He took a ring of keys from a drawer. “Come with me.” He unlocked the door behind him, and Vittorio followed him down a narrow hall. Unlocking a second door, the man said, “Just one came in last night. Found her in the street. No identification.”

Vittorio felt his throat constrict. He looked around for something to lean on as the man wheeled over the cloth-covered corpse. There was nothing to give him physical support as he prepared to look into the face of death and say, “I knew and loved that face in life.”

He clenched his hands as the man drew away the cloth from her face. He drew it back slowly. Light hair, curls matted. Oh, God, could it be? Staring green eyes, a full coarse face.

“No.” He smiled weakly. “Not her.”

He rushed out. Leaning against the building, he gulped in the crisp, cold air.