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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Exactly," agreed Kennedy. "It is not a theory that confronts you. It is a hard, cold fact. I understand that perfectly. What is, the address of this Albano's?" Luigi mentioned a number on Mulberry Street, and Kennedy made a note of it. "It is a gambling saloon," explained Luigi. "Albano is a Neapolitan, a Camorrista, one of my countrymen of whom I am thoroughly ashamed, Professor Kennedy."
It was the faithful Luigi. In front of Albano's an exciting fight was going on. Shots were being fired wildly in the darkness, and heads were popping out of tenement windows on all sides.
We pushed through to the low-ceilinged back room, which was empty, and sat down at a table. Over a bottle of Albano's famous California "red ink" we sat silently. Kennedy was making a mental note of the place. In the middle of the ceiling was a single gas-burner with a big reflector over it.
"I have a cousin who has a drug-store on the corner below Albano's, on the same side of the street." "Good! Do you think he would let me use his store for a few minutes Saturday night of course without any risk to himself?" "I think I could arrange it." "Very well. Then to-morrow, say at nine in the morning, I will stop here, and we will all go over to see him.
Bouverie is a rara avis, an exception to the general rule, said Elizabeth; 'but you know, she or my uncle, or aunt, or Papa, are generally forced to put a lock on their understanding. Why, Anne, what are you laughing at? 'Lizzie, I beg your pardon, said Anne, trying to check herself, 'but I could not help it. Your speech put me in mind of the prints from Albano's four elements.
At last we came to Albano's little wine-shop, a dark, evil, malodorous place on the street level of a five-story, alleged "new-law" tenement. Without hesitation Kennedy entered, and we followed, acting the part of a slumming party. There were a few customers at this early hour, men out of employment and an inoffensive-looking lot, though of course they eyed us sharply.
The reward which he propounded to himself remained steadfast from boyhood; it was a kind of Childe Harold pilgrimage to the lands of antique story 'Whither Albano's scarce divided waves Shine from a sister valley; and afar The Tiber winds, and the broad ocean laves The Latian coast where sprang the Epic War.
Three men jumped out and added their strength to those who were battering down Albano's barricade. Gennaro, with a cry, leaped into the taxicab. Over his shoulder I could see a tangled mass of dark brown curls, and a childish voice lisped: "Why didn't you come for me, papa? The bad man told me if I waited in the yard you would come for me. But if I cried he said he would shoot me.
"I have never been on that block in Mulberry Street where this Albano's is. Do you happen to know any of the shopkeepers on it or near it?" "I have a cousin who has a drug-store on the corner below Albano's, on the same side of the street." "Good! Do you think he would let me use his store for a few minutes Saturday night of course without any risk to himself!" "I think I could arrange it."
Kennedy had now reached Albano's and as soon as the last head had disappeared below the scuttle of the roof he dropped two long strands down into the back yard, as he had done at Vincenzo's. I started to go back, but he stopped me. "Oh, that will never do," he said. "The kids will see that the wires end here.
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