August 6, 1929

Luciola was woken up the next morning by the sounds of two people having an argument in the apartment next door. He briefly debated going back to sleep before his grumbling stomach reminded him of his need for food. I suppose I should make toast or…something. Wasn't there a cookbook in the pantry? He heaved himself out of bed and pulled a pair of slacks on before shuffling into the kitchen.

There was indeed a cookbook, as well as a toaster that might have served with distinction during the Great War. The bread in the pantry was stale, but it toasted well, and the butter hadn't gone bad yet. As he ate, he heard someone knocking on the door.

Who the hell…? He ignored it.

They knocked louder. He sighed. Guess I'd better tell them to go away…

He opened the door and found himself looking down at a dark-haired woman in a blue dress. She smiled brightly. "Good morning! You're the private eye, right?"

He blinked at her. Oh, right, the sign on the door. "Umm…"

"Hey, what's going on?" Dio had woken up. His shirt was only partially buttoned, and his pants were wrinkled. Luciola tried not to stare at the portion of his chest that had been left exposed. "Who are you?"

She looked at him, obviously confused. "My name's Daphne Korakos. I heard there was a famous private investigator here, so I came to hire him…but you two are too young to be him. Who are you? Are you minding his house while he's away or something?"

Dio swallowed audibly. "No. No, the guy you're looking for…he's dead. We rented this apartment. Dio Eraklea, at your service; my friend is Luciola Beretta. If it's criminal elements you're having trouble with, we can help you, Miss…Korakos, huh? You're Greek too?"

Daphne sighed before looking him up and down, taking in his near-white hair and blue eyes. "You're Greek? 'Eraclea' isn't a Greek name, is it? I am, but what does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugged. "My great-great-grandfather was Italian; he passed the name down. (1.) Just wondering. What'd you need an investigator for?"

She blushed. "Umm…can I come inside for a minute? It's kind of…I don't want to tell you standing out in the hall like this."

Luciola stood aside for her. I can't believe this. God, what did I do, that I don't deserve a nice, quiet morning?

She sat down on the couch for a second before wincing and shifting position. "Ouch. Umm, anyway. Who are you, if you're not private eyes? Cops?"

Luciola shuddered, and Dio winced. "In the sense of working against bad guys…I guess you could call us something like that. So are you having some trouble with crooks? Someone steal a necklace from you or something?"

"No, nothing like that. See, my boyfriend Curtis…he's been really secretive lately. He's never available anymore, and he doesn't want to go out with me on Saturdays like we always used to. He works in a secondhand shop on Delancey, and, well…I'm afraid he's cheating on me. So if it isn't too much trouble…could you go down there today, maybe check it out?"

No. We don't have time. Luciola opened his mouth to decline, but Dio spoke over him.

"Sure, we'll help. It'll be easy."

Daphne's face lit up. "Thank you! I'm sorry about the mistaken identity, but of course I'll pay…how much per hour?"

"Don't worry about it. You can pay us when we catch the creep."

Luciola began to be aware of a sinking feeling in his chest, one that didn't go away even when Dio smiled at him. This is going to be a pain. But if it makes him smile like that…I guess it's worth it.

August 8, 1929

"So where is this shop again?" Dio squinted at the crumpled map of lower Manhattan he had found in the glove compartment.

"1725 Delancey. It's just down this block." They came to an intersection with a yellow light; as Luciola stepped on the gas, the light turned red. He made a snarling noise of frustration and hit the brake instead.

As Luciola's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, Dio covered his hand with his own. "Hey, what's the matter with you? Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

He sighed. "Sir…don't you ever think before you act? We agreed that we would lay low for a while. What made you decide to help that woman? We've been trailing that boyfriend of hers for two days, and we still don't have any solid evidence."

Dio shrugged. "I thought it would be fun. I wasn't planning on lazing around the house for the rest of the month, after all."

The light changed again, and he continued on. There was a parking spot nearby, just big enough for their car. Privately, Dio thought this was a miracle; it was, after all, a working day, and the sidewalk was packed with people. The store they were looking for was only three doors down, and Dio headed towards it before being stopped by Luciola.

"Wait. We don't want him to spot us watching him."

There was a newsstand in front of the store; they loitered there. Luciola lit a cigarette and made a show of flipping through an Italian paper, while Dio scanned the crowd. He had to fight to keep a grin off his face. This is so much fun. I feel like I'm in a detective novel.

Their target, a young man with dark hair and green eyes, was manning the register, drumming his fingers on the desk. There was a cup of tea by his elbow; by the lack of steam, Dio knew it was cold. The store was otherwise empty. As a customer—a fashionably dressed woman in the bobbed hair and shapeless dress of a flapper—entered, Dio elbowed Luciola. "Hey, look."

Luciola put his cigarette out and reached for another paper, this one in English. He pretended to read while keeping an eye on Curtis, who had come out from behind the counter in order to hug the woman; she kissed him on the mouth. Underneath his breath, Luciola remarked, "Miss Korakos was right. What should we do?"

"Just watch for now—ooh." Curtis was kissing the woman rather enthusiastically. And in public, too! I almost feel bad for Miss Korakos, but she did seem to be expecting it…

"I knew it."

Dio twitched; he hadn't realized that Daphne had been following them. She reached between them to pay for a Greek newspaper. There was steel in her voice. "I didn't want to believe it…but there you go. I'm going to go talk to him."

The door was open, so they could hear what was happening inside. Dio pretended to be engrossed in the waffle iron displayed in the hardware store next door while he listened. Luciola, out of habit, followed two paces behind. There was shouting, most of it from Daphne; Dio caught a few choice phrases in Greek that made him wince. I…don't even think that's physically possible… Ouch, a meat grinder? Ew.

Finally, there was a resounding slap and Daphne stormed back out, rubbing her hand. Over her shoulder, she snapped, "I'll meet you two back at your office in a few hours. I have things to do."

Luciola and Dio looked at each other. Luciola was the first to speak. "Since we're here…should we do some shopping?"

"That sounds like a good idea." Ah, Luciola…he always thinks of the practical things for me.

&

They went out to dinner that night, to a tiny hole-in-the-wall German restaurant, where they ate bratwurst and sauerkraut of questionable quality. Since alcohol was outlawed, they ordered bad coffee. It took a lot of coffee to wash it down, so Dio was even more hyperactive than usual on the ride home. Luciola felt a headache coming on.

When they finally found their way back home after taking an unplanned detour around an overturned fruit cart, he sighed with relief. Now I can relax. He tossed his hat in the general direction of a hook on the wall and sat down on the one couch cushion that hadn't been torn yet. I can't believe we had to drive all over the Lower East Side just to help some woman we barely know…and she hasn't even paid us yet. It doesn't feel right to deceive her into thinking we're detectives, but… He thought of the money in his wallet, now shrunk to a few bills after paying for groceries and dinner. Maybe we won't have to tell her.

Dio bounced into the front office, turning the radio on. The sound of a slightly off-key jazz saxophone filled the room, mixed with occasional bursts of static. "Hey, Luce. Look what I found!" He pulled out a half-empty bottle of wine from behind his back and waved it around triumphantly. "And this is good stuff, not the cheap liquor Delphine trades in. Want some?"

Luciola shook his head. "Sir, that might well have turned into vinegar by now."

Someone knocked on the door; Daphne's voice filtered through it. "I'm back. Mind letting me in?"

Dio paled and jumped up to hide his bottle in the desk drawer. Luciola opened the door for Daphne, who blushed on seeing him. "…I have pretty bad news."

Oh no. She'd better not be trying to get out of paying us. He took a seat on the couch, drumming his fingers impatiently. "What is it?"

Daphne couldn't meet his eyes. "Umm…well, first, I want to thank you for helping me catch Curtis cheating on me. I bet you'll be happy to know I kicked him out. But…since I skipped work to confront him today, my boss fired me. And I can't…umm, afford to pay you anything right now." Luciola cracked his knuckles involuntarily on hearing this; she paled and hastened to add, "But I can still help you out! You're investigators, right? I could be your secretary, for free. Just—just until I pay off the cost of the job you did."

She isn't paying us. I can't believe she isn't paying us! Well, I suppose there's no harm in letting her know now. "Listen, Miss Korakos, we…"

Dio interrupted him. "We can't let you work for us for free."

Luciola choked. "Dio, what on earth—"

She started to smile. "How much, then?"

Dio stood up from his chair, ruffling through a heap of papers on top of the desk. "Two dollars a day, five days a week. We need you to sort and file every scrap of old paper our predecessor used in his cases and look for anything related to the Eraclea family. We have…strong suspicions…that they may be involved in organized crime."

"Oh. That, I can do." She frowned at him; Luciola decided he didn't like the look in her eyes. "This Eraclea family…you're not related, are you?"

Dio rolled his eyes. "Would I be here if I was? Besides, my name isn't even spelled the same way; they're 'Eraclea' with a C and my name is 'Eraklea,' with a K."

She smiled pleasantly. "Sorry; my mistake. I can come back tomorrow around nine to start. In the meantime, I brought you the evening paper; there's an incident you might find interesting. 'Night, boss."

As soon as the door shut behind her, Luciola spoke. "She knows. I saw the look on her face."

Dio nodded. "Yeah, I know."

He rubbed his forehead, trying to lessen his migraine. "We have to go. If she sells us out to your sister…" Damn, I want a cigarette. He dug a slightly crumpled pack out of his jacket pocket and lit up, taking a long drag. Ah, that's better.

"She won't." Dio grinned at him. "After all, we're paying her salary; as long as we treat her right, we could be making rotgut in the bathtub and she wouldn't care. Besides, having her gather information for us is a good way to keep track of what my sister's up to. She can go places where we'd stick out like sore thumbs. And she can talk to cops for us!"

This is not a good idea. He sighed, blowing out smoke. "Sir, are you really sure about this?"

The younger boy nodded. "Besides, if nothing else, it will be fun. Let's check out the paper she left."

He picked it up off the couch. "The airship launching? (2.) Interesting, sir, but not exactly relevant."

Dio sat down next to him, leaning over his shoulder. "Look underneath it. 'Inventors of Miraculous Painkilling Drug Missing.'"

Luciola read it out loud, in an effort to keep Dio from invading his personal space again. "'William and Anna Hamilton, noted chemists and owners of Exile Pharmaceuticals, have disappeared on the day they were to unveil their latest creation. Their whereabouts are still unknown, but police have vowed to start the investigation, quote, 'as soon as possible', end quote.'"

Dio snorted. "That means never. What next?"

He continued. "'The Hamiltons were noted for their staunch support of the Volstead Act. (3.) The patents they hold on medicines have made them thousands of dollars, and yet they continue to lead a frugal life. In the wake of this senseless crime, their young daughter Alvis has been sent to live with family friends.'" He folded the paper. "That's it."

Dio rested his head on Luciola's shoulder. "The Hamiltons…Delphine used to curse them, remember? Their men would go around scoping out our businesses, then give the locations to police they knew couldn't be bribed. No matter how many my sister had bumped off, they'd hire more. Plus, they're almost as rich as she is. You think maybe she had something to do with it?"

"Perhaps." It would certainly get rid of a major thorn in her side, especially since she's got so many cops in her pocket already. Not to mention, that new medicine they made up might be useful to her if she could get them to spill the formula. Luciola sighed. We can't get away from her, can we? No matter where we go, we can't run forever.

&

Author's Notes

1. There's a city near Venice in northern Italy called Eraclea. It's famed for its beautiful beaches, as well as what is apparently a very nice lagoon.

2. On August 8, 1929, the German airship "Graf Zeppelin" began a round-the-world flight that ended August 29.

3. The Volstead Act of 1919 was named after Andrew Volstead, the Chairman of the House Judiciary Committee who helped pass it. It's the proper name of the bill which legalized Prohibition.