Bouncing along on a Manhattan subway last May, innocent Leo Pigola, 45, shifted nervously under the hard, steady stare of a middle-aged woman who was seated across the aisle. When the woman asked: "Do I know you?" and "Did you ever live near Eighth Street and Second Avenue?" timid Mr. Pigola had had enough. Explaining that he came from Paterson, N. J., he slipped off the train at the next stop.
Fortnight ago, still staring hard, Mrs. Mary Klein appeared in Paterson with her daughter, Juliet. She commandeered a detective, went looking for Leo Pigola. Finally she found him, hawking fruit...
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