Last Call (37 page)
Theo leaned toward him, forearms atop the bar, speaking in an even tone. “That is a colossal pile of crap.You know that, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” Jack went back to his martini and adjusted his response: “Definitely.”
“Good thing,” he said, glancing toward the rear entrance.“Because the world’s most unlikely ménage à trois has just arrived.”
The women were dressed to turn heads, but Theo’s gaze fixed on his uncle. Cy had Trina on one arm, Andie on the other, and a huge smile on his face. Of course he was wearing his three-piece Norfolk suit in natty vintage tweeds, as if it were 1956 and he still ruled the Cotton Club, the Knight Beat, and every other famous old jazz club in Overtown. He reached over the bar and gave Theo a huge hug.
“Proud a’ you, boy,” he said.
The words meant the world to Theo, and he had to close his eyes for a moment to contain the emotion.“Thanks, old man.”
Theo broke the embrace, and Trina leaned over to give him a kiss.That left Jack and Andie as the awkward spectators for a moment.
“You look amazing,” Jack told her.
“Keen grasp of the obvious there,” said Theo.“Siddown, everyone. Got a couple of surprises planned.”
Jack offered Andie the stool on his right. Uncle Cy and Trina took the ones on his left.Theo poured martinis for each of them.
Then he pulled a tobacco tin from under the counter and placed it on the bar in front of them. It was the fourteen-ounce cylinder, bright red with a white-and-black painted label.
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Trina was the first to smile. “Prince Albert,” she said, reading the brand name.
“I’m a man of my word,” said Theo.“Sort of.”
“Pipe tobacco? That’s not much better than a roach brooch, bucko.”
“Just open it.”
She twisted off the lid, and her eyes lit up.“Oh my god! These are amazing!”
Theo said,“Happy belated birthday.”
Trina reached inside and removed the diamond earrings. She kissed him and immediately put them on, then stood and checked herself in the big mirror behind the bar. They were shaped like little saxophones.
“Gorgeous,” said Andie.
“The earrings aren’t bad either,” said Cy.
Theo chuckled and said, “Now it’s time for your surprise, old man.”
“Me? Isn’t all of this surprise enough?”
Theo smiled thinly. “Follow me.” He stepped out from behind the bar and took Cy by the arm.The others remained seated, knowing that this was about family.Theo led his uncle all the way to the front entrance.
“We can’t be leavin’, are we?” said Cy, as Theo escorted him outside.
Theo didn’t answer. He took his uncle across the sidewalk and didn’t stop until they reached the other side of the street. Then Theo squared him around to face the club, offering a view of the main entrance that Trina had denied him by bringing him in through the back door.
The lighted sign above the canopy said it all: Cy’s Place.
Cy didn’t speak. Slowly he raised his hands, shaping the left one into an
L
and the right into a backward
L
, framing Cy’s Place like a movie director.Theo noticed that his hands were shaking.
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“We put it up this afternoon,” said Theo.“You like?”
The old man swallowed the lump in his throat. “Don’t know what to say. Don’t deserve this. Really.”
“You want me to take it down?”
Cy pulled himself together and shot Theo a look that said,
“You crazy, boy?”
“I didn’t think so,” said Theo.
He let his uncle enjoy the moment, but Cy probably would have stood there all night, had Theo let him.“Come on,” said Theo.
“Let’s go back inside.”
Side-by-side, they crossed the street. Cy stole one last glimpse at the sign as Theo pushed through the front door.Trina hugged and congratulated him back at the bar. Jack and Andie were in a heated discussion that bordered on a flat-out argument as to whether the world’s first martini was actually called a martinez, whether it was made with London Dry or Old Tom gin, and whether it came with an olive or a cherry. It was nice to see them getting along as per usual.Theo broke it up before someone got injured, and they all raised a glass and drank to Cy’s Place.
Theo gave the old man another hug. “Now you gotta do me a favor.”
“Name it,” he said.
Theo reached under the bar again.This time, he pulled up the old Buescher 400 saxophone that Cy had passed down to him years earlier.
“Play tonight,” said Theo.
Cy’s mouth fell open.“You kiddin’ me?”
“I couldn’t be more serious. Doctor says you’re doing great, finally got your blood pressure medicine figured out.”
“But . . . I don’t have my mouthpiece.”
“I already rigged it. Beechler Diamond Alto.Any other excuses you want me to shred?”
“I’m so rusty. I mean, you don’t really want this old man to be the first one on your stage, do you?”
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Theo pushed the sax a little closer.“You’re up, Jazzman.”
Cy stood for a moment, expressionless.Then his mouth curled into a sly smile, and he took the instrument—carefully, lovingly, as if it were his baby.“What do you want to hear?”
“How about ‘Ko-Ko’?” said Theo.
Cy chuckled. A Charlie Parker classic with dazzling virtuoso technique and complex melodic lines was asking too much. “I’ll give you a ballad,” he said.
“Cool,” said Theo, and then his friends gave Cy an encourag-ing round of applause.
Cy bowed humbly and then weaved through the crowd, saxophone in hand. From behind the bar Theo cut off the CD that was playing over the sound system and adjusted the overhead lighting.
Cy took his place on stage. The room was abuzz with loud talk and laughter, and nobody seemed to pay much attention to the tall, skinny, gray-haired man in the funny suit—until he started playing.
On the intimacy scale, Theo ranked playing the sax somewhere between crying and making love in public, such was the emotional and artistic connection between the musician and his instrument. Capturing an audience was a process, and Cy began with a flurry to grab the crowd’s attention.Then he settled into his melody. Conversations quieted, then ceased. The old master was taking control.
Theo stood behind Trina and watched. She leaned back, seated on her bar stool, and settled into his arms. Her shoulder blades felt like wings against his chest, and along with everyone else in the room, she and Theo seemed to float a few inches off the ground as the old man played. Even Jack and Andie were at peace, their fingers interlaced on top of the bar.
After a few minutes,Trina reached behind her and pressed her hand against Theo’s face.“I love my earrings,” she whispered.
“I’m glad.”
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“Just one question.”
“What?”
“How are you gonna wear these things on your—”
Theo covered her mouth, putting an end to the Prince Albert jokes.
She playfully bit his hand and gently tugged at her earrings, as if to confirm that both he and the jewelry were keepers.
Uncle Cy was in a groove, eyes closed, his body arching as he reached for each high note, a musician’s musician playing his heart out.
Theo held his girlfriend tightly, caught up in her, caught up in the moment—spellbound by the timeless magic of Cyrus Knight.
After a one-book vacation from the Swyteck series with
Lying with Strangers
, I’m grateful to the team of all-stars who helped me get back into the groove of Jack and Theo: my editor, Carolyn Marino; her assistant, Wendy Lee; and my agent, Richard Pine. I also want to thank my early readers, Dr. Gloria M.
Grippando, Eleanor Raynor, and Gloria Villa.
Beth Johnson was the lucky winner of a charity auction that helped me name one of my characters in
Last Call.
I hope she always wanted to be a prison warden. If not, I hope she’s at least glad that I didn’t lend her name to an inmate. Either way, her generous donation goes to a great cause, the Ransom Everglades School in Miami, Florida.
As always, my biggest thank-you goes to Tiffany. She helps me in too many ways to enumerate, but I want to take this opportunity to assure her that I will never give her a roach brooch, and to assure each and every one of you (especially her friends) that Tiffany had absolutely nothing—zero,
nada
—to do with my research into a Prince Albert.
Finally, I want to thank the many, many pet lovers who wrote to me over the past year. In the acknowledgments to my last Jack Swyteck novel,
When Darkness Falls
, I mentioned the passing of Sam, my beloved golden retriever.
Last Call
was the first novel in a decade that I had to write without Sam at my side.Your stories about beloved pets were a huge comfort on the lonely days. For those of you who had trouble finding the story about Sam on my website, go to www.
jamesgrippando.com and click on the menu button that says “Other Writings.” But don’t forget your Kleenex.
JAMES GRIPPANDO
is the bestselling author
of fourteen novels, including
Lying with Strangers
,
When Darkness Falls
,
Got the Look
,
Hear No Evil
, and
Last to Die
, which are enjoyed worldwide in more than twenty languages. He lives in Florida,
where he was a trial lawyer for twelve years.
www.jamesgrippando.com
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive infor-
mation on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Lying with Strangers
When Darkness Falls*
Got the Look*
Hear No Evil*
Last to Die*
Beyond Suspicion*
A King’s Ransom
Under Cover of Darkness
Found Money
The Abduction
The Informant
The Pardon*
And for young adults
Leapholes
*A Jack Swyteck novel
Designed by William Ruoto
Jacket photograph by BOB STEFKO/LUCKYPIX
Jacket design by JARROD TAYLOR
LAST CALL. Copyright © 2008 by James Grippando. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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