Jack of Diamonds (71 page)

Chef Napoleon Nelson didn’t answer but simply looked directly at me and said, ‘Jack, you ask him the same question. He gonna nod, use his hands, but it gonna ’mount to the same thing. He ain’t seen nothin’. They knock him down, kick him, then vamoose. It all happen so quick, he ain’t seen nothing ’cept somebody got black shoes.’

‘Nice touch! Everybody in the whole world wears black shoes! Not black-and-white two-tone like Sammy Schischka?’

Chef Napoleon Nelson continued to ignore my indignation. ‘Police, they satisfy it some coloured folk thing happen. They ain’t got no interest no more.’ He spread his large hands. ‘Enquiry officially close. Them two policemen, they don’t even open their notebook.’

Disgusted, I shook my head. ‘Jesus! All this about a porterhouse steak cooked years ago!’

Chef Napoleon Nelson looked surprised. ‘Who say that?’

‘Sammy . . . Sammy did. I remember it clearly. “Hey, nigger, I ain’t forgot about that porterhouse. I’ll be back. Take my advice and get the fuck outa Nevada!” Then he mentioned Hector’s daughter and said, “I ain’t forgot. Sammy Schischka don’t forget!”’

At this stage, Hector was shaking his head as much as he was able and making a kind of gargling sound, pointing repeatedly at Chef Napoleon Nelson, and opening and shutting his right hand to emulate a mouth speaking, urging him to tell me something.

Chef Napoleon Nelson nodded. ‘Mr Jack – Hector, he want you should know the whole real story. Ain’t got nothin’ to do wid no porterhouse steak. It ain’t even to do wid the kitchen.’

‘Oh?’

Chef Napoleon Nelson leaned back in his chair. ‘You know what is a high yella?’

‘Well, no, not really.’

‘It a person wid light skin. Like Hector’s oldest chile. She near got white blood – blue eyes, hair like red brown. You know her – Sue, she the waitress once work at the El Marinero Longhorn Room. She go to the Flamingo when we all come to the Firebird.’

‘Sue? You mean Sue Stinchcombe?’ I asked, taken aback. I glanced over at Hector, who was attempting to nod his head. ‘You never told me that she was your daughter. Stinchcombe . . . that’s not your surname, it’s Brownwell.’

Chef Napoleon Nelson sighed. ‘It one those things we decide best for her,’ he said. ‘That Hector’s wife maiden name.’

‘We?’

‘Miss Bridgett, Hector and me also, on account I her godfather. We decide when she was fourteen.’

‘What? I don’t understand . . . Why?’

‘Well now, Jack, it a long story. Goes back some. She come to the El Marinero to work in the kitchen when she fourteen, scullery, garbage, dish washin’. Miss Bridgett soon see Sue she got herself a bunch’a brains, got above av-e-rage in-tell-lee-gence; she don’t need to be no kitchen hand. She got two more years to finish high school, but Hector and his wife Linda, they got nine other children. So, Sue gonna have to leave school and go to work help support their fambly. So, Miss Bridgett says she’ll pay Sue her salary if she go back to finish high school to complete her twelfth grade. But she also arranged for Sue to sit for a trial examination for one o’ them private prep school, only white folk go there, but sometime excep-tion-nal they also take one or two black chile. Sue get her a place that fancy white folks’ school, two year later she graduate top the school, vale-dic-torian, and Miss Bridgett wants to pay she goes to college. But Sue say, “No, ma’am, not yet. I don’t want you to pay no more. I’m gonna earn ’nough to put myself through college and also help mah fambly.” She don’t want no more charity.’ He grinned. ‘She . . . she, what’s the word . . . ?’

‘Headstrong?’

‘Yeah, she don’t take no crap from nobody. My goddaughter, she got herself a strong mind.’

‘But waitresses at the El Marinero – anywhere in Las Vegas – they’re all white . . .’

Chef Napoleon Nelson nodded. ‘Well, that when we do the secon’ decision. Miss Bridgett, she say that Sue got good manners and in that fancy school she done learn to speak like a white girl. She also very beautiful – white man’s way o’ seeing women – and Miss Bridgett say if Sue can be white, she kin work as a waitress at the El Marinero and get good pay, tips, so long we don’t tell nobody she black. She tell us it ain’t nothin’ shameful, it jes prac-ti-cal.’

I thought of Bridgett and how she herself had been ‘practical’ and turned herself from a mountain hillbilly to a proper classy lady. This idea for Sue’s betterment in this racist desert community was yet another reason to admire her.

Chef Napoleon Nelson shook his head and chuckled. ‘So, now Sue come back to the El Marinero and she learn drink waitressing in the Longhorn Room, also cocktail mixing – Barney bin teachin’ her as his star pupil. Then the Flamingo make her a great offer – she gonna be their head drinks waitress – and Miss Bridgett says she gotta take it because now she can save more for going to college next year.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ I exclaimed. ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.’

Chef Napoleon Nelson shook his head. ‘Jack, it ain’t no laughin’ matter now. What Mr Sam done to Hector, it got nothin’ to do wid porterhouse. Sue the reason Mr Sam gone try to kill Hector.’

‘Eh? What do you mean?’ Completely mystified, I glanced at all three men. ‘You’re saying Sammy attacked Hector because Sue passed herself off as a white girl? Surely not!’

‘Nah, that not the real reason. Like I said, Sue the boss girl and also she very popular wid the other hostesses. That because she don’t take no shit from nobody and she got herself respect. She don’t do no hanky-panky wid white man. Nossir, she a leader them girls do the cocktails, take care the gamblers. Now, they got themselves some problem in that waitress section, they don’t got no union rights. So, Sue she go to see the union wid the other girls selectin’ her so she be their re-pree-sent-tay-tif. The union man go see Mr Loose Spring. When the union man leave, he call Sue in his office and ask her about this union business. She say it Culinary Workers’ Union business. She polite, but he say all the girls get tips and that’s enough, then he shoo her away.

‘But Sue ain’t no pussycat. She say he can ban tips if he want, they just want their union rights – pension plan, medical insurance, full union rates of pay.

‘He get pretty mad. “Get back to your job or you dismissed.”

‘Sue don’t take no shit from nobody. “Am I fired or all of us waitresses?” she say.

‘“You threatening me, girlie?” he shouts.’

‘Jesus, what a deadshit!’ I say. ‘But how did all this get Hector beaten up?’

‘Well, like I said, Hector’s daughter, she ain’t scared nobody. She go back to the union man and she say they want to go out on strike. He explain he try to talk to Mr Springer, who tell him to get his fat butt outa his office, the Mob got influence in the Culinary Workers’ Union. He ’pologise to her and he say if he gonna call a strike, he a dead man.’

Chef Napoleon Nelson paused and smiled. ‘Sue ain’t happy, so she arrange a meeting for all the Culinary Workers’ Union and they decide they gonna walk off in-def-in-ate-ly. You remember, Mr Sarsaparilla. It affect all casinos. Mr Springer, he try to call their bluff, but next shift there ain’t no girls check on, also the next. Now, all the casino bosses, they angry. Croupiers, cleaners, they fetching the drinks – ain’t nobody happy, least of all the clients.’ Chef Napoleon Nelson smiled broadly and shook his head in wonderment. Even Hector was trying to smile, and Booker T. was shaking his head and grinning in admiration.

Of course I knew about the strike and its cause because it had also involved The Phoenix. I didn’t know about Hector’s daughter at the time. Besides, her name and role as the organiser didn’t come up. I simply assumed it was something that had started on the Flamingo gaming floor and spread to the other casinos. I had asked Bridgett about it and she said, by some anomaly, the casino cocktail waitresses were regarded as freelance hostesses. She explained that Lenny had talked to our local union boss but he claimed he couldn’t interfere in another union’s business.

The girls at the GAWP Bar didn’t suffer, though. I explained the situation to my ladies and they seemed happy to go directly to the bar to collect their own drinks, thinking it great fun, and they thoroughly sympathised with the striking cocktail waitresses. I guess some of them would have started life in similar jobs. Anyhow, when the gals returned to work, Bridgett and Lenny quietly paid their wages for the time they were on strike. The hostesses had won and every casino in Las Vegas had to provide proper working conditions and entitlements.

‘What about Sue at the Flamingo?’ I asked.

‘She keep her job,’ he answered. ‘Ain’t nobody gonna fire her case they cause another big, big problem. Mr Loose Spring, he ain’t the most popular manager in town.’

‘I’m beginning to understand. Someone told Loose Spring about Sue being Negro, and about her being your daughter; is that right?’

Chef Napoleon Nelson nodded. ‘You got it, Jack. Why you think the police, they don’t want no fuss about what happened to Hector? Mr Loose Spring knows he cain’t see no harm come to Sue, but Hector a different matter. He gets Sammy to beat up Sue’s daddy real bad, teach her a lesson. Sammy, he only too happy to oblige.’

‘And the police have been paid to sweep the whole business under the carpet?’

Chef Napoleon Nelson shook his head. ‘I cain’t say, Jack. But it ain’t necessary. If we tell the truth on Hector’s behalf, he ain’t coming out this hospital and I don’t like Mr Joel’s chance, nor even my own neither. Lotsa niggers buried in the desert for causin’ less trouble than this gonna be, iffen it get out.’

‘But this means Hector’s not safe.’

Chef Napoleon Nelson glanced at Hector. ‘Doctor say internal bleedin’, he gotta stay here two weeks. We done decided Hector got to leave Nevada. We gonna take a collection plate in the church Sunday.’ He glanced up at the railway man. ‘That why Booker T. here.’

‘Where will you go?’ I asked Hector, and turned to Booker T. for the answer.

‘We ain’t decided, Mr Sarsaparilla. He kin hide someplace, maybe east. For coloured folk, that not too much a problem. But he afraid for his daughter. She want to go to college, get herself a good job. But she young, she very headstrong. When we seen her last night, she cryin’ but she mad as hell. She ain’t gonna do no hiding the truth now they gone hurt her daddy so bad.’

Decisions had been made and there was already the start of a plan to get the family out of Nevada. But perhaps I could help. I looked at Hector. ‘Would you consider Toronto, Canada? Working in a jazz nightclub? I’m sure we can find something for Sue as well, that will allow her to go to college. The schools are good in Toronto.’

Hector was in too much pain to smile, but he nodded his head as hard as he could.

‘I can arrange that – transport to Toronto,’ Booker T. said, smiling. ‘Ain’t nuttin’ but a little bitty bit over the border.’

Chef Napoleon Nelson smiled. ‘So, all we gotta do is convince Sue.’

At drinks that night, Bridgett was absent and Lenny was about ten minutes late arriving. ‘Hi, Jack, sorry I’m late.’

I nodded and grinned. ‘That’s okay. Bridgett’s not here yet.’

‘She’s caught up. A call to New York, trying to get them before the close of business hours.’ He didn’t explain further and ordered a bourbon. When the waiter brought it and we were alone, he said, ‘Jack, that thing yesterday afternoon with Hector. You did the right thing not going to the police.’

I didn’t reply and Lenny continued, ‘I told Sammy, no more. He has to stop working for Loose Spring at the Flamingo.’

‘Well, that’s great, Lenny; I’m sure Sue and Hector will be pleased.’

‘Aw, Jesus, Jack. Just leave it, will ya?’ I could see he was getting pissed off.

I held up my hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, Lenny, whatever you say, buddy.’ There was no point talking about it, and I certainly wasn’t going to tell him about my hospital visit; nor, for that matter, Bridgett, even though I’d trust her with almost anything. I resolved to stay
schtum
about the threats Sammy had made to me – it seemed somehow weak to be carrying tales to Lenny.

I’d decided to call Miss Frostbite during my evening break, when I knew she’d be at the Jazz Warehouse. I felt certain that once she’d heard the story, she’d agree to give Hector a job. As the best barbecue chef I’d ever known, he’d be a welcome addition to the Jazz Warehouse kitchen – good meat chefs are always hard to find.

As for Sammy and me, all this had done was to bring to the surface a problem I’d been trying to ignore the whole time I’d been in Las Vegas; or, rather, from the day I heard about the meat-cleaver incident. Sammy was a loose cannon and I had no illusions about the amount of control Lenny exercised over his cousin. His reassurances were meaningless.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

WHEN I NEXT VISITED
Hector, Chef Napoleon Nelson was once more by his side. As soon as I’d satisfied myself that Hector was recovering, if slowly, he told me he had some news. According to a chambermaid at the Flamingo, Loose Spring – or Mr Louis, as Chef Napoleon Nelson called him – had left for New York in the Flamingo Convair.

The coloured folks’ grapevine extended to all the casinos big and small and, because their welfare depended on accurate information rather than gossip and rumours, it was usually pretty reliable. Nobody knew yet whether Loose Spring’s departure was permanent or simply routine, or even if his visit had anything to do with Hector’s beating.