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"Hm."
She glanced back at the building. "We need to stop this guy. Damn it. Well, we can still help them from New York. I'll call Rossi when we get back home. He seemed reasonable. More reasonable, at least, than the other one. The prosecutor."
Rhyme said, "I like the name: Dante Spiro. Coffee?" he repeated.
As they headed for the place, which seemed to specialize in pastry and gelato, Thom said to Rhyme, "You're tired, you should have tiramisu. The dessert, you know. It means 'pick me up' in Italian. Like tea in England--gives you energy in the afternoon. Remember, 'coffee' here is what we call espresso. Then there's cappuccino and latte and Americano, which is espresso with hot water, served in a larger cup."
The hostess found a space for them outside, near a metal divider, separating the tables from the rest of the sidewalk. It was covered with a painted banner, probably red when it was installed, now faded pink. It bore the word "Cinzano."
The server, a laconic woman, mid-twenties, in a dark skirt and white blouse, approached and asked for their order in broken English.
Sachs and Thom ordered cappuccino and the aide a vanilla gelato as well. She turned to Rhyme, who said, "Per favore, una grappa grande."
"Si."
She vanished before Thom could protest. Sachs laughed. The aide muttered, "You tricked me. It's an ice cream parlor. Who knew they had a liquor license?"
Rhyme said, "I like Italy."
"And where did you learn the Italian? How do you even know what grappa is?"
"Frommer's guide to Italy," Rhyme said. "I put my time on the plane to good use. You were sleeping, I noticed."
"Which you should have been doing too."
The beverages came and, with his right hand, Rhyme lifted the glass and sipped. "It's...refreshing. I would say an acquired taste."
Thom reached for it. "If you don't like it..."
Rhyme moved his hand away. "I need a chance to complete my acquisition."
The server was nearby and had overheard. She said, "Ah, we are not having the best grappa here." Her tone was apologetic. "But go to a bigger restaurant and they will offer more and betterer grappa. Distillato too. It is like grappa. You must have them both. The best are from Barolo, in Piemonte, and Veneto. The north. But that is my opinion. Where is it are you visiting from?"
"New York."
"Ah, New York!" Eyes shining. "The Manhattan?"
"Yes,
" Sachs said.
"I will go someday. I have been to Disney with my family. In Florida. Someday I will go to New York. I want to skate on the ice at Rockefeller Center. It is possible doing that all the time?"
"Only the winter," Thom said.
"Allora, thank you!"
Rhyme took another sip of grappa. This taste was mellower but he was now determined to try one of the better varieties. His eyes remained where they had largely been, on the front of police headquarters. He finished the sip and had another.
Thom, clearly enjoying his dessert and coffee, said, with a suspicious look in his eyes, "You seem a lot better now. Less tired."
"Yes. Miraculous."
"Though impatient about something."
True, he was.
"About--?"
