Swan Song (5 page)

“I need some air.” I finally declare to the band, calling a halt to the warm ups.

“You goin’ out back, Miss Adrian?” Eddie asks me.

I grin at him thinly, not feeling it but not wanting to insult him. “Yeah, Eddie. You coming with me?”

“I wouldn’t mind some air.”

He helps me into my coat before we walk out of the room, heading into the back halls behind the stage and toward the back door by the loading docks. The second we step outside into the brisk air I regret coming out here. He’s wearing a threadbare brown coat with visible holes that makes me shiver as I watch the wind cut through it. But if he’s cold, he never lets it show.

“How are your kids?” I ask, pulling out a cigarette. I hand it to him without asking and I don’t give him a chance to say no as I take out another for myself.

“Good. Real good. Growin’ like weeds.”

He pulls out a book of matches and lights my cigarette for me before doing his own.

I chuckle. “I bet they make beautiful weeds.”

“That they do.” he says with a grin. “Oldest one is sixteen now. She all kinds of a trouble.”

“I believe it. It’s just how girls are.”

He takes a long drag off his cigarette then smiles at me. “You a handful at that age?”

I try to grin but fail. I bring my cigarette to my lips to cover my shortcoming. To hide my sorrow. I don’t like to think about that time and I certainly don’t like to talk about it. Not even to a friend like Eddie.

“Of course I was.” I tell him finally. “It was in my blood.”

“Well, hopefully she’ll grow out of it someday. Become a lady like you.”

I laugh. “Don’t ever wish for your girls to be like me, Eddie. They deserve more than that.”

“I don’t know.” he says softly. “You doin’ it all by yo’self. You walkin’ tall every day. You speak your mind, you smart. And you kind. Don’t know what else I could want for ‘em.”

I’m glad we’re alone in this alley because what I do then could spark the kind of crazy that neither of us could ever walk away from. I lean over and plant a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

He looks at me, stunned and not a little afraid. It was selfish of me. If anyone saw it, Eddie would have hell to pay. But I couldn’t help it. I don’t get a lot of kindness with nothing expected in return and his sweet words moved me beyond my control. And, yes, the approval of a father, even one that’s not my own, was more than I could bear.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “And thank you.”

He nods, still stunned silent.

The rumble of a truck coming down the alley stirs us both. I watch with curiosity as the large brown truck comes into view, pulls past the loading docks, then reverses toward them.

“It’s a little late in the day for a delivery, isn’t it?” I ask Eddie.

“A regular one, yeah.” he mutters. “But maybe this one ain’t so regular.”

“We should go inside.” I say.

He nods in agreement, tossing aside his cigarette and taking mine to do the same.

“Whatever it is, it ain’t none of our business.”

We’re walking toward the door when I hear the bay doors of the loading dock slide open nearby. Two men step out, guns in hand.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” one calls, waving for the truck to stop. “What is this?! What are you unloading?”

The back door of the truck bursts open and five guys pile out, rifles in hand. They open fire immediately, taking down the two guys from the loading bay before they can fire a single shot. More gunfire erupts from inside the building where other of Ralph’s men must have been waiting. One of the guys from the truck goes down, blood exploding behind him all over the outside of the brown vehicle. I don’t realize I’ve screamed until one of the men looks over and turns to fire on Eddie and I.

Eddie immediately grabs onto me and pulls me into the recessed doorframe. I’m hidden between the door and his body but I still shriek as gunshots ring out in our direction. More come from the garage, men shout, bricks burst and explode in dust clouds around us as bullets fill the walls of the club. I stop shrieking but I’m clinging to Eddie, panting short, frightened breaths into his shoulder.

After what feels like ages but is probably less than a minute, the truck pulls out with squealing tires. Men in the garage come pouring out and I hear more gunshots, then returning fire. Eddie grunts roughly and sags against me. Then he falls. He slips slowly down my front and I look down in horror to find my coat and dress covered in blood. Eddie’s blood.

I scream again. I drop to my knees and scream for help, calling out with indistinct words that mean nothing other than despair. He can’t be dead. I’ve seen men shot before. I’ve seen people roughed up and beaten down and I’ve held it together like a seasoned champ. I know how to shut this shit off. But I can’t with him. Not with Eddie.

I put my hands on him, searching for the wound. It doesn’t take long to find it. It’s in his shoulder dangerously near his chest, the bullet having passed clean through. I rip off my coat and lay it partially beneath him to keep it between his wound and the ground. Then I pull the rest of it up and over his shoulder near his neck to use it to apply pressure to the front of the wound. I push down hard and I’m relieved beyond measure when he groans and coughs in pain.

“You’re gonna be okay, Eddie.” I tell him urgently. My hands are shaking and my voice is frantic. I need to calm down if I’m going to reassure him. I need to pull it together. “They’re already calling for help. You’re gonna be fine. You just hang on, alright? Do you hear me?”

“Yeah.” he replies weakly. His eyes are closed but at least he’s breathing and answering me. I watch his chest as I press on it, making sure it keeps rising and falling.

“Adrian, are you hit?!” Mickey calls from the dock.

“No, but Eddie is! Get an ambulance now, please!”

“Shit! You got it!” Mickey shouts back. “Ben, call for a doctor. A private one. We got three men down.”

“Call a bus!” I cry.

“Cool it, Adrian. We can’t.” He’s coming closer now, his eyes darting around the alley behind the club. He’s watching for a repeat performance.

“Why the hell not?”

“We can’t have the cops sniffing around back here. We gotta deal with this ourselves.”

I shake my head in frustration. “People will have heard the gunshots. They’ll call the police.”

“And we’ll have this cleaned up and won’t know nothin’ about it by the time they get here.”

“What about Eddie?” I ask desperately.

Mickey kneels down beside Eddie and I. He watches as Eddie breathes. It’s labored but it’s clear. There’s no rasping in his lungs, no blood coming from his lips. Odds are he wasn’t hit in a lung which means he’s got a good chance.

“He’ll be seen by the doc when he shows.”

I scowl at him. “Yeah, after the two other guys. How badly are they hurt?”

“It don’t matter, Adrian.” Mickey tells me firmly. “They’re part of the Outfit. They get seen first.”

“Yeah, and they’re white.” I say bitterly. “Tell me that doesn’t make a difference.”

He looks at me hard. “You got a problem with the pecking order you’re more than welcome to take it up with Ralph.”

I could, but it wouldn’t change a damn thing and Mickey knows it. The Capone’s pride themselves on being progressive. They hire blacks, fill the clubs and casinos with black entertainers, cleaning and maintenance crews. But they still make them enter from the rear of every establishment. They give them meals to eat but never from the club dishes. They’re not allowed to use the bathrooms, not even the staff ones in the back. In Nebraska I never had a lot of exposure to anyone of color, no matter what that color may be. Now here in Chicago I’m surrounded by people of all different races and if I’m being honest, I don’t see what the fuss is about. Eddie is an entertainer in this club, same as me. The black women washing dishes in the kitchen are part of the wait staff, same as Alice and Rosaline. The boy shining Ralph’s shoes is a servant to his house just the same as the blond haired, Polish chauffer driving his limousine. I don’t know the difference but then if you tell the men that, they’ll say it’s because I’m simple. I’m a woman. A farm girl. There are some things I couldn’t possibly understand.

“We gotta get a move on, kid.” Mickey tells me gently, touching my shoulder. “We need to get him inside and clean up the mess out here.”

I nod in understanding. I don’t realize I’m shivering against the cold, dressed only in a thin cotton dress now that my coat is wrapped around Eddie, not until Mickey removes his and drapes it heavily over my shoulders. It’s long and made of thick dark wool that smells surprisingly like lilacs. I sniff it, glancing up at him in confusion.

He smiles. “My wife loves the stuff. Practically soaks our clothes in lilac water.”

“I didn’t know you were married.” I mumble, pushing down hard on Eddie’s wounds again. He grunts, satisfying me that he’s alive.

“Eight years now. Since we were just kids.”

“She must really love you.”

Mickey chuckles. “Why do you say that?”

“You don’t go home a lot of nights.” I say, thinking of the times I’ve seen him stay late at the club, taking liberties with some of the paid girls.

“She don’t mind.” he says, signaling for two more guys to come help move Eddie. “She knew what she was marryin’.”

I nod my head numbly. The extra hands arrive and they lift Eddie carefully into an upright position, a man on each side holding him up. I hurry to the door and cringe as I watch his feet drag lifelessly behind him as they tow him inside. His shoes will be scuffed to smithereens. Tommy will probably yell at him for it.

“Mickey,” I call, stopping him from disappearing into the garage by the docks. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Don’t know. He ain’t come back from his delivery to Birdie.”

I shiver, pulling his coat closer around me. “Should we be worried?”

Mickey chuckles darkly. “About him vanishin’ after meetin’ with Birdie? Common as that is, yeah. We should be pretty fuckin’ worried.”

Chapter Six

An hour later and Eddie is finally in with the doctor, but still no sign of Tommy. I’ve stopped asking Mickey if he knows where we can find him. I even went as far as to ask if he can call Birdie and find out when he left. Mickey laughed at that but he never answered. Either it’s hilarious to think Drew is easily reachable by phone or it’s hilarious to ask a hitman when was the last time they saw somebody. I’m inclined to believe he was amused by both.

“You should go change your clothes.” Alice tells me when she brings me a coffee. “You look a mess.”

I ignore her. She’s right, I look crazy with my hair down and wild and blood all over my dress but I’m not going anywhere until I hear from the doctor himself that Eddie will be alright. I have so much guilt as I sit here thinking about him and his family. Of how they depend on him and how he’s out of commission now for who knows how long. The injury is to his shoulder and as a bassist if he can’t play right… I don’t want to think about it. He’ll be fine, I just have to keep telling myself that. I consider praying but I haven’t done it since I was a kid and something tells me not a single member of the Holy Trinity can hear me in here.

The door bangs open, spilling daylight into the dark space. We all turn to look at who has come in but the second I catch a glimpse of that flaxen hair shining like a halo around his head, I know who it is.

“You’re back.” I say with infinite relief spilling out of me on a sigh. “I was so worried.”

“What happened?” he demands, striding toward me. “Where are you hit? Where’s the fuckin’ doctor?”

“I’m not hit.”

“Like hell. You’re bleeding all over your dress.”

“It’s not my blood.” I tell him as he takes hold of my shoulders to keep me still as his eyes examine me. “It’s Eddie’s.”

He scowls. “Eddie took a slug?”

“In the shoulder. The doctor is with him now.”

Tommy curses, looking away. He’s surveying the group and taking account of who’s here.

“Tommy.” I say softly. His eyes snap back to mine. “He took the bullet for me.”

“Eddie did?”

I nod. “He saved my life. And he,” I step closer to whisper in his ear. “He has a big family. A family that depends on him. That barely gets by as it is.”

His hands tighten on my arms briefly then he nods. “I hear ya. They’ll be taken care of. Alright?”

I feel a sense of relief again, of so much gratitude. I wrap my arms around his neck to hug him tightly.

“Thank you.” I whisper.

He hesitates only a heartbeat to put his arms around me. I feel weak then. Weak with relief, weak with fear, weak with so many other unable things that I know I need to get out of this embrace before I do something stupid.

I pull back being sure to smile up at him so it doesn’t come off as a blow. He runs one calloused hand down the side of my face before stepping past me and heading to the back. He’ll need to meet with Ralph and the boys as they circle the wagons. They’ll be busy for the next couple of days with this. It’s shit circumstances, but I’m a little pleased to have the heat of Tommy’s attention off me for a while. Let the Irish take it if they think they’re man enough to handle it.

The police came about half an hour after the shooting happened but the boys had already taken care of the mess. They met with the cops outside, never letting them enter the club to see what the rest of us were up to, and by the time they got there the blood was covered up or washed away. They couldn’t get all of it cleaned fast enough so some pallets and crates had to be pulled out and set in odd places out back to cover it up. The cops knew, they aren’t stupid, but they can know something all day long but it doesn’t mean they can do a damn thing about it. If they don’t see anything shady out in the open, they have to get a search warrant to go poking around. Can you imagine trying to get a search warrant in Cicero on a property run by a Capone? Heaven help the brave man who tries.

“Miss Marcone.”

I spin around to face the doctor as he comes out into the dining area. He’s covered in blood from working on all three men, each of them at least requiring stitches. One of the boys needed a bullet extracted and wasn’t that the most horrible thing I’ve had to listen to in a long while. Almost as horrible as the night Tommy brought in a double crosser from the Southside and… Anyway, it was awful but I was told this man is sleeping soundly now. He’ll probably keep the bullet as a souvenir. Put it on a necklace or in a ring. If he gets shot again he can make cufflinks.