A Song In The Dark (14 page)

“Mrs. Caine?”

“Who wants to know?”

“My name's Jack Fleming.”

“So how do you know me?”

“I'm associated with this club.”

Her chin went up. “You gonna throw me out?”

“I hope not. All right if I sit with you?”

She thought it over, giving me a hard up and down, then nodded. “What do you mean by ‘associated'?”

I took my hat off, put it to one side, and slipped in opposite. “I know the owner. I'm helping manage the place for the time being.”

She made no reply but stubbed the old cigarette and went on to the next, her fingertips yellow from chain-smoking. There were matches on the table. I had one lighted by the time she needed it. She leaned forward and puffed her smoke to life. “So you manage the place. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I just noticed last evening you seemed to have a stack of grievances against your ex-husband—”

“More of a mountain. He owes me a lot of alimony, that's the main one. It's pulling teeth with tweezers to get him to cough up anything, but I really need it, the landlord's leaning on me, and I owe for groceries. It's not like I'm wasting anything . . .” She shut herself down, mouth twisted with disgust. “Christ, but don't I sound pathetic.”

“If he's holding out, you've a right to be upset. What about getting him into court?”

“That costs money. I can't feed myself, much less some lawyer.” She sucked in a draft from her cigarette and politely vented it to one side. “Look, kid, maybe you want to help, but I've been over all the angles, and unless Alan pays up, I'm on the street in the morning. But then he'd enjoy that, the son of a bitch.”

I raised a hand and a waitress came over. They knew about my temporary rise in rank. Fast service for the boss was part of the job. “What will you have, Mrs. Caine?”

Surprisingly, she wanted only water and a twist of lemon. From her behavior last night I took her to be a hard drinker.
The waitress came back quick with a glass and a bowl of peanuts. Jewel attacked them, but one at a time, yellow fingers delicate. I wondered if she'd eaten lately. She didn't look starved, but you didn't have to look it to be hungry. I was acquainted with that a little too well.

“Thanks, kid,” she said, lifting her glass.

“Just call me Jack.”

“Yeah. I've seen you around. Heard you run that red club with the funny name.”

“Lady Crymsyn.”

“Any jobs open? Or has Alan gotten to you, too?”

“What do you mean?”

“He's a big draw. Bigger than me, now. He won't sing at any club that's given me work. They always go with the money, and I get bupkis. He sees to it.”

“What can you do?”

“Just about anything. I can sing, but I'll wait tables, clean the damn toilets if I have to.”

“How good a singer are you?”

“I do all right with wistful throaty stuff, nothing fast.” She tapped ash off. “These things spoiled my voice, put a limit on my range, but I can't seem to kick 'em. I've got plenty of songs I can get away with that aren't a strain on the cords, and I'm good with mood pieces. I can make a rock cry.”

That told me she knew her stuff. “I'm booked for acts this week, but maybe can give you a short set to do.”

Jewel stared, hovering between disbelief and hope. “You sure? For real?”

“That jackass is never gonna sing at my place. It's only a short set. It won't pay much.”

“Kid, I'm making nothing now, I'll take it.”

“Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but—”

“I'll notify my booking manager.” I got my wallet and gave her a business card for the club. “Go over tomorrow around three with your music and work things out. You'll talk to Bobbi Smythe. You know her?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Your landlord? A loan, then.” I had forty bucks and gave it to her. “Interest-free. You need more?”

“Christ, kid, that's two month's rent!”

“It's okay, I'll take it out of Caine's salary. He must owe you more than that, though.”

“A few thousand.”

“I'll set something up at this end. So long as he sings here, you'll get your alimony. It won't be permanent, all he has to do is leave for someplace else, but maybe you'll have enough to get on your feet?”

“Hell, yes.” She seemed very taken aback. “Why you doin' this?”

I shrugged. “It gets my mind off my own troubles.”

“Must be some troubles.”

I didn't want to talk about what churned my guts. “How'd you two get together?”

She snorted. “Ten years back I was the big star and he was . . . well, you've seen him. He's a knockout. He still is.”

“Not to me.”

“Men.” Jewel puffed, wearing her cig down half an inch in one draw. “He got to me with that big smile and those gorgeous eyes and sweet talk like it was going out of style. I went nuts over him. It's the only reason I can think of, that I was out of my mind. We got married, and it was good, and I got him singing lessons, then jobs. I wanted us to work up a duet routine, but he said he got more work as a single act. Eventually I figured out it meant he got more women that
way. He was vile about it. Shoved it in my face like it was my fault.”

I listened and nodded as she touched on the low points. She had a long list of bitter grievances, the usual for when life and love goes bad for a couple. Caine had gone out of his way to be a jerk, though. Jewel struck me as being able to give as good as she got, but he'd worn her down, then moved on.

She wore a kind of choker necklace made of blue beads, and when she held still the beads moved in time to her pulsing veins. I took a breath and caught the scent of blood under her sallow skin.

Not good. I shouldn't be noticing those kinds of things. I'd fed myself sick at the Stockyards, wasn't remotely hungry tonight, and human blood was off my menu, anyway. Didn't matter. I was wanting it the way I used to want a drink back when I lived in New York. Except for weekend binges when I could afford it, I had that under control. I did it then, I could do it now. Really.

“If you got any brains, you'll never have Alan perform at your place,” Jewel concluded. She'd apparently forgotten what I'd said before. This sounded like something she repeated often to many people.

“I'll hire a special bouncer just to keep him out.”

She broke into a smile and looked pretty for it. “You're all right, Jack.”

Past her shoulder I caught sight of Mitchell, returned from someplace or other so he could watch me for some reason or other.

Jewel noticed and glanced where I was looking, snorting again. Her eyes sharpened into a glare, an odd look on her face, then she smiled again. This time it took away from her looks. “There's another one to keep clear of. Used to run
with the Morelli gang before Gordy took over. You don't want to know why
he
had to leave town.” She gave a short, unpleasant laugh.

“Of course I do. You can't do a fanfare like that and leave me hanging.”

“No. It's vile, too, and I've had enough for one night. Besides, Alan just came in.”

True. Alan Caine, with Evie Montana in close and adoring tow, sauntered in on the other side of the room, not noticing us. He did see Mitchell, though, and made a point of walking right by him. Caine gave him a big, disarming smile, and Mitchell went stony.

“You got a problem, Mitch?” Caine acted puzzled.

Mitchell kept shut, but clearly they had some kind of feud going, probably carried all the way from New York. Easy to understand, given their personalities. What was coming out from behind Mitchell's eyes would have melted steel. Evie noticed and tugged on Caine's arm to move on.

“I feel sorry for her,” said Jewel. “There's no point trying to wise up her type about Alan, though. She'll have to learn the hard way.”

“He's gonna break her heart?”

“Yeah, but only after he's gambled off all her money and hocked everything she's got, up to and including her step-ins.”

Evie seemed to be a girl not too interested in wearing much in the way of underclothes. Her satin skirt was pretty tight, and I couldn't see lines showing through. Bobbi did the same thing herself a lot of the time.

And I didn't need to be thinking about . . . about anything.

Caine resisted Evie's efforts to move him, continuing to smirk. The idiot must have thought his talent made him
bulletproof, but there is a certain kind of mug who doesn't worry about consequences. Mitchell might be one of them. If Caine wasn't careful, he could get a broken leg or worse. He could sing sitting down, but wouldn't be happy about it.

Not liking Caine, I wouldn't have minded letting matters take their natural course; but as caretaker for Gordy's investment, it was up to me to keep the peace. A week or so back I'd have involved myself, but didn't trust how I might react if either of them got stupid with me. Instead, I signaled to some of the club's muscle to make themselves visible to Mitchell.

He saw, if Caine didn't, and strolled off, Caine laughing at his back. Even from here I could pick up on the booze tone in his voice. This time Evie Montana succeeded in dragging him away.

“Men.” Jewel gave a deep, derisive sigh. “Alan's a damn fool. Never does know when to quit. He's the kind of guy who drinks and pretends he doesn't.”

“If he's too drunk, you could have a job here tonight,” I said, half-joking.

“He's smart enough to never miss a cue. But I
should
have this job. Instead, I got bills and this.” She lifted her glass of water. Sipped.

“That mean something?”

“Yeah. It was easier being married to him if I stayed drunk all the time. Trouble was, after the divorce I kept on being drunk. Thought I should warn you . . . in case you want your money back.”

“You're having water now, though?”

“I'm on the wagon. You might as well know I'm going to Alcoholics Anonymous. Someone told me they can really help, and so far so good. I've been sober two weeks. Two weeks and six hours.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Though when I look in a mirror and see what the sauce has done to me I think maybe I should go back to it so I don't care anymore.”

“You look just fine.”

She smiled and patted my hand. “Sweet of you to say so, kid. I used to stop traffic in fog at midnight. Don't mind me. This is how I feel sorry for myself when I'm sober. It's better than when I'm drunk, though.”

By this time she'd finished off the bowl of peanuts. “You hungry?” I asked. “The kitchen'll do you up a steak on the house.”

She hesitated before giving an answer, but finally nodded and smiled. “Thanks. You're too decent a guy to be in this joint.”

“No, I'm not. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be.” I flagged a waitress, and she wrote down Jewel's order, then whisked off to the barely opened kitchen.

“You got a girl, don't you?” asked Jewel.

“How's that?”

“A guy as nice as you has a girl somewhere. Hope she's treating you right.”

I felt myself going red. “Far better than I deserve.”

Strome walked in the front, saving me from having to come up with another change of subject. I waved him over and explained about needing the car until mine was fixed.

“No problem,” he said. “Except Kroun wants a ride back to his hotel when he's done here. I can get you another car.”

“I'll wait.” Strome might pick up things of interest from Kroun and Mitchell he could pass on. They'd likely be too smart to talk openly in front of him, but you never knew. “Why's Kroun still hanging around?”

“More business with Gordy. They're talking now.”

What? “Gordy's
here?
”

“In the casino.”

“He's supposed to be resting, dammit.”

“Try telling him that. When the big boss says jump, you ask how high. That's how it works.”

Hell.
I got my hat and stood, excusing myself to Jewel, adding an apology.

She took it in stride. “Men,” she said, lighting another cigarette.

I went into the not-quite-opened casino, but Gordy wasn't there after all.

Strome only shrugged. “Means they're up in the office. You might wanna steer clear.”

“Why?”

“The more people in a room talking business, the longer it takes to finish.”

That bordered on the genius. “Yeah, okay. But have someone tell me when they're done. I want a word with Gordy, too.”

“Sure.”

“Anything new on Hoyle?”

“He ain't left town yet. Donno why.”

“Where is he?”

“Donno that, either. Dropped outta my sight, but some of the other boys have seen him.”

“Doing what?”

He lifted his hands. “Sayin' good-bye?”

“See if you can find out more. I'm getting so I don't like that guy.”

Strome's face almost twitched, and he moved on toward the back exit, presumably heading for the office to watch for the meeting to break up.

I found a phone and called Crymsyn's lobby to check in.
Instead of Wilton, Bobbi answered. “You're not backstage?” I asked.

She sounded a little breathless. “I just came down with the cash tills. Something told me that was your ring. You need to put a phone behind the bar.”

The place already had one official phone in my office; I didn't see why we needed more, but this wasn't the time to discuss it. “I should be there to help, but I got sidetracked.”

“I know, ‘business.' We're fine here, Jack, there's no need to worry. Take a vacation why don't you?”

“At another nightclub?”

“Sure, see different faces for a change. Charles is helping me open, everyone's in on time. We're
fine
here.”