“Got room for a hungry fellow?” a voice asked from the other side of the blanket. Jennie recognized that voice.
“Sure thing, Pietro,” Dad said. “Sit down and dig in.” Dad scooted over to make room for the neighbor.
“I thought you had to work,” Mr. Romano said to his cousin as he handed him a plate. Pietro took the plate and heaped it with food.
“Got off early for the holiday,” Pietro answered around a mouthful of potato salad. “Didn’t want to miss the ceremonies honoring our soldiers.”
“Likely story,” Jennie whispered to Colleen. “He probably didn’t want to miss a good meal.”
Colleen snickered. “He’s not missing anything.”
The girls watched as Pietro loaded up his plate a second and then a third time. Jennie shook her head. It was a good thing that Mama had fried that extra chicken and brought more rolls than she had first planned.
“We better get our cake,” Colleen said, “or there won’t be any left.”
After eating, Jennie and Colleen wandered off to look at gravestones and read the inscriptions that were carved on the stones. At first Jennie felt funny walking among the graves, some of which had been carefully decorated with flowers, but soon she and Colleen were going from one to the other to look at the names and dates.
“This man was ninety-five when he died,” Jennie said after some quick arithmetic in her head.
“This woman was ninety-nine,” Colleen said from in front of a tall stone with flowers carved on the top.
“Women always live longer than men,” Jennie said.
“That’s not true.” Tommy popped out from behind the stone, followed by Stan. “Stan and I will prove it. We’ll find two or three men who died when they were a hundred years old or more. You won’t find a single woman that old.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jennie said. “Come on, Colleen, let’s show these boys that women always win.”
“Even in the graveyard.” Colleen laughed.
The children ran from stone to stone, weaving across the cemetery, careful to avoid the flowers. Calling out dates to each other, they searched for the oldest occupants.
“Here’s a woman who was ninety-nine,” Colleen called from the front of a huge gravestone.
“So was this man,” Stan yelled.
“Doesn’t count,” Jennie said. “They have to be at least a hundred.”
They worked their way farther apart until Jennie ended up alone near a group of identical gravestones. They were much smaller than most of the other stones and worn by age. Curious, she walked closer to read the inscriptions. It was one family. Stone after stone revealed that the children had died within days of each other in 1918. Jennie remembered reading in school about a big flu epidemic that killed thousands of people that year. Two stones at the very end proved to be soldiers who died in World War I about the same time as the children. No doubt they were older brothers.
“What are you looking at?” Colleen asked as she walked up. “Did you find a real old one?”
“No,” Jennie said, “just the opposite.” She waved to the row of stones. “They all died too young.”
Colleen stared at the names and dates. “I see what you mean.”
“Why does God do that?” Jennie asked. “Why does He let a whole family die?” She didn’t really expect Colleen to have an answer, but she just had to say it out loud. There was so much about life and death that she questioned these days.
“You’re asking the wrong person,” Colleen said, “because I don’t know.” She reached down and gently brushed a pile of leaves away from the base of one of the stones. “Why don’t you ask God? He’s the one in charge and the one with the answers.”
“How would He answer?” Jennie asked.
“My mother says that He finds a way,” Colleen said, “and I think she’s right. Sometimes when I pray about something, like a problem or a choice, the answer will come to me.”
“Like magic?” Jennie asked.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s quieter, and it usually takes longer. Sometimes I’m not even sure if it’s God talking to me, but most of the time I can tell, if I’m paying attention.”
“I’ll try it,” Jennie said. And she would, too. She had lots of questions she wanted to ask God.
Voices rang across the graves, angry voices raised in argument. Jennie and Colleen turned at the same time. Not far away stood three figures behind a small square marble building. Jennie strained her eyes and ears in the strangers’ direction. She saw a woman and two men, and they weren’t strangers after all, at least not all of them.
Jennie had seen the woman twice before with Pietro. She stood with Mr. Romano’s cousin and again wore black. Pietro and the other man were arguing, but Jennie couldn’t hear any words clearly. The other man was taller than Pietro and quite skinny compared to Pietro’s portly build.
With no hesitation, Jennie motioned to Colleen to follow as she circled around to get closer to the trio. Maybe the mystery of Pietro could be solved if Jennie could hear what the two men were arguing about. At least it might be a clue.
It wasn’t hard to sneak up on Pietro and the others, because they all were talking at once. Several large gravestones dotted the area near the marble building, so it was just a question of getting from one to the other without being seen. In a matter of moments Jennie and Colleen were close enough to understand the voices.
“If you can’t deliver the goods, I’ll get someone else,” the tall man said. “You’re not the only one of your kind in Seattle. That I can say for sure.”
“Don’t get so excited,” Pietro said. “I said I’d deliver, and I will. I’ve got another contact to make before I can get everything sewed up. My man is on the day shift at Number Two and needs some persuasion.”
“Get him on board or get rid of him,” the tall man said. “I want to see something concrete by Saturday, no later. I’ll be around to visit you then.”
“I’m in the underground now,” Pietro said. “She’ll show you.”
“Depend on it,” the tall man said and jerked his head at the woman. “Let’s go. This place gives me the willies.”
Jennie watched as the trio split up. Pietro walked back toward the picnic area, and the other two headed in the opposite direction.
“What were they talking about?” Colleen asked after a moment or two. The girls sank down to sit on the ground at the base of a big stone.
Jennie shook her head. “I’m not sure, but it didn’t sound good at all. Was he talking about getting information from someone? They call the Boeing factory Number Two.”
“Maybe it was something else.”
“Maybe,” Jennie agreed, “but what?” She frowned as the men’s words ran through her mind again. They had talked about delivering the goods and using persuasion. It had to be spying, didn’t it?
“What are you two doing here?” Tommy demanded. “You’re supposed to be looking for hundred-year-old women.”
Jennie jumped at her brother’s voice. She had totally forgotten their interrupted search.
“We got sidetracked,” Colleen said.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Jennie agreed.
“Was that Pietro I saw walking back toward the picnic area?” Tommy asked.
Jennie nodded.
“What’s he doing out here?”
“I don’t know,” Jennie said. She gave Colleen a warning look. She didn’t want to tell Tommy about Pietro and everything that they had heard. Tommy would want to take over and tell Jennie just what to do. She wasn’t sure what to do next, but she knew she didn’t need her brother to boss her around.
“So did you find any hundred-year-old women?” Tommy asked.
Colleen and Jennie began a good-natured argument about the search, but Jennie couldn’t take her mind off Pietro. The tall man had said he’d be back on Saturday. If what Jennie heard was really what she thought she’d heard, there were only four days before Pietro was going to deliver
some valuable information about Boeing. Only four days to catch a spy!
CHAPTER 11
The Spy’s Lair
Jennie, what in the world is the matter with you?” Mama asked on Friday afternoon. “You’re not my cheerful girl this week. In fact, you’ve been downright grouchy. Is something wrong?” Mama was sorting sheets in the laundry room while Jennie stacked towels on the shelves.
“Not exactly,” Jennie replied. “I’m fine.” She smiled as big as she could at her mother. Jennie knew she had been touchy ever since Tuesday.
“Well, if you can’t tell me about it,” Mama said, “be sure to tell God. He can help.”
Jennie nodded and grabbed more towels to stack. She had been telling God, begging Him, in fact, to show her what to do about Pietro. But so far God hadn’t answered.
Jennie and Colleen hadn’t been able to find out a thing about Pietro all week. Jennie had gotten up early and gone to bed late trying to keep an eye on Pietro but with no luck. The man slipped in and out of the hotel like a ghost. Tomorrow was the deadline the tall man from the cemetery had set, and the girls weren’t any closer to catching Pietro. It was enough to make anyone grouchy.
At last the hotel chores were done, and Jennie waited for Colleen in the lobby. It was time for a new plan. Jennie wished she had one to offer.
“I thought we’d be able to follow him,” Jennie said a few minutes after Colleen arrived. They sat down on the old couch in the lobby. “We’d follow him and see where his place is, the one he said was in the underground. Once we could prove what he’s doing, we’d report him to the authorities.”
“Do you think that’s where his spy stuff is?” Colleen asked.
“It must be. There isn’t room in Mr. Romano’s apartment for anything like that.”
“What do spies have anyhow?”
“Probably radio equipment,” Jennie said, “and maybe files or notebooks.”
“Why doesn’t he live there? Why does he bother coming back to the hotel every day?” Colleen asked.
“It’s his cover,” Jennie said firmly. “Who’d suspect a chubby Italian shipyard worker of being a spy? Especially one who comes home for supper every night.”
“You’re right,” Colleen said. “Say, do you think he’s spying for the Italians, for Mussolini?”
“Probably,” Jennie answered. “Everyone around Seattle is always talking about Japanese spies. That’s partly why they sent the Tanakas off to that camp. But unlike the Japanese, an Italian doesn’t look any different from other white people, so that makes Pietro a perfect spy.”
“Pietro a spy! What are you talking about?” Tommy asked.
“Tommy! What are you doing sneaking up on us and eavesdropping?” Jennie demanded.
“I didn’t sneak,” Tommy said indignantly. “I walked right up to you, and you weren’t talking low or anything.”
“Anyhow, it’s a private conversation.” Jennie turned as if to dismiss her brother.
Tommy ignored her action and planted himself in front of the two girls. “Why do you think Pietro is a spy? That sounds kind of crazy.”
“We have our reasons,” Jennie replied. She didn’t want to tell Tommy about everything. The time for that would be after she and Colleen had caught Pietro in the act.
“He’s not a very friendly guy,” Tommy conceded. “Most of the time he comes and goes by the fire escape door so he won’t have to talk to anyone, but that doesn’t make him a spy. You two are nuts.”
Jennie gave Colleen a quick look. Pietro came and went by the fire escape door. That would explain why they could never catch him going through the lobby. Colleen grinned a little, and Jennie knew that she had caught on, too.
“You’re right,” Jennie said, “we’re nuts.” She felt like shouting now that they had something to go on, a clue Tommy gave, but she still didn’t intend to spill the beans to her brother.
Stan came through the hotel front door, and Tommy ran over to him. “You won’t believe this,” Tommy said. “The girls think Pietro is a spy.”
“Let’s get out of here before they start asking more questions,” Jennie said. The two girls slipped away and down the hall toward Mr. Romano’s apartment.
“Why didn’t we think of the fire escape?” Colleen asked. They stopped in front of the door in question.
“We would have eventually,” Jennie said. She opened the door and looked down at the metal stairs that led to the alley. Pietro could come and go all he pleased and not be noticed.
“Maybe not in time,” Colleen said. “Tommy might have other ideas. Don’t you think we should ask him and Stan, too?” She peered over Jennie’s shoulder at the stairs.
“No,” Jennie answered, “we don’t need their help. After all, it was just an accident that Tommy mentioned the fire escape. He didn’t even know that it was important.”
“What’s next?” Colleen asked.
“We have to follow Pietro.” Jennie shut the fire escape door. “He should be home from work early for supper. I heard Mr. Romano say that Pietro was working a shorter shift this week because of supply problems, and we know he never misses a meal. After that he must go to his place in the underground. We’ll be watching the fire escape. From there we trail him and see what we can see.”
The girls made their plans and went off to set them in motion. They borrowed Art’s flashlight, and a couple of hours later hid behind the trash cans in the alley and waited. Right on schedule, Pietro came walking down the alley, climbed the fire escape stairs, and disappeared inside. A half an hour later he reappeared, still dressed in his work clothes, carrying something wrapped in a white towel.
The girls waited until Pietro was almost out of sight before they followed him. They already knew he would head toward the underground. As soon as they could get lost in the people on the sidewalks, they closed the gap between themselves and Pietro. It wasn’t far to the downtown area where the long, hidden, underground passages snaked beneath the streets. Jennie knew many vacant buildings were among the businesses near the waterfront. She guessed that Pietro had his operation set up below street level in one of the abandoned buildings that opened onto the lower, underground level. It would be a perfect place for a spy.
The girls kept close to the buildings they passed just in case Pietro turned around for any reason and they should need to duck inside. The businesses down here weren’t ordinary grocery and clothing and hardware stores. Jennie knew that this part of Seattle was the rougher part of town with people and establishments to match. Even so, no one bothered the girls as they made their way closer to the waterfront.
First Pietro was in plain sight, and then he wasn’t. Jennie and Colleen looked at each other and all around. Cautiously they approached the spot where they had last seen him, but there was no sign of the man.
“Where did he go?” Colleen said in Jennie’s ear.
“He’s done his disappearing act again.” Jennie scanned the street and sidewalks, looking for any clue. She turned to the nearest building, peering in the window of a door that opened onto the street.
“See anything?” Colleen crowded behind Jennie.
“Maybe.” Jennie opened the door. “Look,” she said triumphantly. She pointed at a rickety wooden staircase that led down. “He must have gone down here.”
Colleen looked down the stairs. “It’s dark.”
“There’s some light,” Jennie said. “It must come from other openings like this one.”
“Looks pretty dark to me,” Colleen said.
“Your eyes will get used to it. Come on, we’re going to lose him.” Jennie started down the staircase.
The two girls found themselves in an area that looked and felt like a cave. Jennie sniffed at the musty-smelling air. There was a walkway of sorts that led off in the distance to another staircase. A wooden railing that had fallen down in places outlined the walkway, and dusty debris cluttered the sides of the walkway. Using the flashlight, Jennie saw broken furniture scattered across the gro
und. Boards and piles of bricks were everywhere. Doors and windows were on one side of the underground passage. It looked odd to see them, but Jennie realized that they opened onto a lower level of the existing buildings. She knew from the stories she had heard that the city had rebuilt the streets in this part of town after a fire many years ago. It was perfect for a spy’s lair.
Jennie led the way as quickly and quietly as possible. They had already lost valuable minutes when Pietro might even have climbed back up another of the staircases. Jennie strained her eyes. Then she saw a tiny flutter of white. It had to be the towel that Pietro had wrapped around whatever he was carrying when he left the hotel.
“There he is.” Jennie pointed.
“Let’s get him,” Colleen whispered back. The girls hurried along the walkway, following the occasional glimpse of white ahead of them. It wasn’t totally silent down here as it might be in a real cave. Jennie could hear traffic noises overhead and occasionally voices. She was thankful for that because it kept this tomb-like place from being quite as scary, and it helped mask any sound the girls might make as they chased Pietro.
After what must have been a couple of blocks at least, a thud sounded up ahead. “He’s gone in through a doorway,” Jennie said.
“Which one?” Colleen craned her neck to look.
“It has to be this one,” Jennie said as they came opposite a big wooden door. The walkway railing in front of that building had been pushed down, and the debris showed dim footprints where someone had walked up to the old door more than once.
“Why didn’t he use these stairs?” Colleen waved at the staircase a few steps away. Light from the opening filtered down and offered a fairly clear view of the area near the door and the stairs.
“He didn’t want anyone to trace him to this particular spot.” Jennie walked over to the door.
American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1 Page 31