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more information, though. “So
when did all this happen?”
    Leonardo scratched his head. “This was... two
weeks ago. Then I meet pig-man after first week there. They keep me
in room alone and say they have to make sure I am good person.”
    Security—they’d need it against the mobs.
“Describe him.”
    Leonardo proceeded to give every single
detail about Istvan, and everything matched right down to his
sleeping habits, even how he curled up. At the end of ten minutes,
he asked, “You believe my words?”
    Anastasia tapped him on the shoulder and he
practically hit the ceiling. “Calm down. What else did he tell
you?”
    Talk about being on edge! “I’ll echo
what my wife said about calming down,” Harry added. “She’s trying
to help.”
    “She is your wife?” Leonardo seemed impressed
as his eyes widened and he swung his head back and forth to regard
both of them. “You are lucky to find same person as you. I search
among my new friends.” A look of sadness crossed his face. “There
no one is like me.”
    Look of sorrow or not, the facts had to be
gotten first, and Harry prompted, “So what else did the pig-guy
say?”
    “Nothing... except he say go to America, find
Harry and Anastasia. I hide on board cargo ship. I come here...
land in port and leave ship.” He tapped his paw on the ground as if
to indicate what he was saying was on the real, “Now I am
here.”
    It could be true, thought Harry as he crooked
his finger and pointed to the corner of the cabin. “Okay, hang on a
second. Take a seat while my wife and I talk this over.”
    Leonardo seemed pleased. He sat on the couch,
wriggling around as if overjoyed to be sitting on anything but
stone or dirt. Harry motioned to the far corner of the room.
Anastasia followed him over. Eyes shining with possibility and
hope, she asked, “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
    “Yeah, I think so. He knows Istvan. The
name... it’s possible with all the hate groups out there he wants
to stay hidden, but how could Istvan have survived?”
    “He always was very good at hiding. That’s
how he did it. He must have crept over the borders somehow and made
his way to Italy.”
    It didn’t answer the question of their
adversary. Then again, it didn’t have to. Apparently, the warthog
creature had been sent by someone else to commit an act of mayhem.
Against who was another story, but the theory seemed logical
enough.
    Putting aside his theory for the moment,
Harry decided to find out what this new visitor knew and gestured
to the couch. His wife took a seat beside the mole-guy and her
manner became warmer. “Do you know where Istvan is for sure?”
    “Of course I know.” Leonardo’s attitude,
formerly shy, became somewhat more assertive, and a note of
indignation sounded in his voice. “I am Italian. I no remember my
last name, I no remember many things, but I remember I am Italian
and I know city well. Pig-man lives underground in catacombs, under
Vatican. That is safest place for us. The bad men, the assassins,
they come to kill us, but we hide and stay safe. I am good at
hiding, too.”
    Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to him to hide
from the now-dead warthog, but in a gesture of defiance that Harry
found amusing, Leonardo thrust his pointy chin forward. “I not have
claws or strong body, but I am smart and I smell things—everything.
I smell you up here. I find you. That is my ability.”
    It was a good ability, Harry had to admit.
“All right, sit tight while I contact someone.”
    Leonardo suddenly got a look of suspicion on
his face. “Who you call?”
    “FBI...”
    Hearing those three letters caused the little
mole-man to make a mad dash for the door, screaming about polizia and tests and other words in Italian. Leonardo
wasn’t very fast or strong, and Harry easily caught up to him,
grabbed him around the shoulders and tossed him back to the couch,
where Anastasia put a powerful restraining hand on his shoulder and
said, “You’ll