LA CASA CORVINA
We finished our business with Hamza Yavuz around one o’clock, perfect timing for a meal. Tesa recommended La Casa Corvina, which was halfway between the jail and our hotel, so we drove separately in our cars and reconvened there.
“Signora Richietta!” It was Dante, the owner of the restaurant, who recognized Tesa as we entered the door. “And, of course, Aggie,” he continued, embracing them both with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. “You have a small party today,” Dante added with pleasure, seeing the rest of us come through the door.
“Come stai?” Tesa responded. “How are you?”
“Va bene; tutto bene,” he replied. “Would you be comfortable at the table in the corner, at the window?”
“Perfetto, Dante,” Tesa said.
After we settled into the corner booth, Dante slipped away an
