The King of Ragtime (24 page)

“And you never said one word to me.” Clarence was furious.

Ida shook her head. “I figured if I hadn’t gone and snooped, I never woulda known in the first place, so I decided I wasn’t gonna say boo…oh, Clarence! I was
scared
. And all the time Dubie didn’t come home, I kept on thinking about that blood on his shirt, and that made me even scareder. But I thought maybe these people need to know.”

“I’m glad you told us,” Stark said. “Do you remember what day that was?”

Ida raised a hand, counted back on her fingers. “One, two, three…three days ago. On Tuesday.”

“His first whole day in New York,” Clarence rumbled. “He was gonna set the town on fire.”

***

Lottie led Nell and Stark along St. Nicholas Avenue, into a drug store and up to the soda fountain, where they ordered phosphates. The soda jerk, a dark-skinned hunchback, made a snappy production out of mixing the drinks, then set them in front of his customers, smiled, tipped his white paper hat, and retreated to the far end of the counter.

Stark took a long pull at his drink. “I’d say we got more than we’d bargained for. What with the blood on the boy’s shirt, it does sound as if the deal with Berlin involved murder as well as kidnaping. ‘Help me get rid of Joplin, whatever it takes, and I’ll publish your music.’ But then you became a monkey wrench, Nell, going up to that apartment.”

“I’m about to become an even bigger monkey wrench,” Nell said. Birdie told me Dubie bragged to her about the scene he made in the office, and the way the receptionist got Berlin to sort it out. If Fannie could say she was sure it happened on the afternoon of the murder, wouldn’t that nail everything down?”

“I’d think so,” Stark said. “Perhaps you could talk to her tomorrow.”

“I’ll talk to her tonight,” said Nell. “I’ll bet the soda jerk’s got a City Directory…Dad, what are you shaking your head for now?”

From the far end of the counter, the soda jerk called, “You wantin’ something else?”

“Thank you, no.” Nell gave him a big smile, then in much lower tones, said, “The sooner we get the information, the better. I’m going to go tonight. If you insist, you can come with me.”

“I think neither of us should go tonight,” said Stark. Sometimes, sooner is not better. If we go barging into the woman’s home at this hour, she’s going to wonder why, and she may be less forthcoming than if you casually mention over lunch tomorrow that you heard something about a ruckus in Reception a few days ago. Then it’s no more than a bit of gossip.”

“Your daddy be right,” said Lottie. “Go runnin’ off with your legs movin’ faster’n your head, you likely just gonna upset the applecart. Go on home now, get some sleep.”

Nell couldn’t fight off a smile. “All right. I know when I’m licked.”

***

When Nell walked up to the Waterson, Berlin, and Snyder office at eight forty-five next morning, the door was locked. She peered through the glass, saw no movement inside. Damn! Fannie was supposed to be in by eight-thirty to open up and have everything ready for business by nine. Nell cursed the woman and her flightiness, looked back down the corridor, then sighed and resigned herself to waiting.

During the fifteen minutes she stood and paced, she was joined by secretaries, salesmen, pluggers, shipping clerks, fifteen or twenty in all. Then she heard the elevator door open. Voices, coming closer—Waterson and Tabor. She couldn’t make out the conversation. The two men drew up to the door through the small crowd. “Mrs. Stanley,” Tabor said. “What’s going on here?”

“We’re waiting for someone to open the door.”

“Fannie’s not here?”

“Apparently not.”

Tabor pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, searched for the right one, opened the door, then stood aside as the employees ran in and scattered to their posts. Nell walked in alongside Tabor and Waterson. They stood in the Reception Room, looked all around. “Fannie,” the office manager boomed, but got no answer beyond an echo of the receptionist’s name. He picked up a small wooden box from the desk, flipped the lid, thumbed through file cards. “Ah, here.” He held up a card. “I’ll call her—maybe her alarm didn’t go off. I guess I’ll have to put up a CLOSED sign until she gets here.”

“Judas Priest!” Waterson roared. “Where can that woman be? The way things are going, we’re not going to have any employees at all.”

“You’ll have a bookkeeper,” said Nell. “I’ll get to work now. Good morning.” She started down the hall to her office.

***

By nine-thirty, Nell had her annoyance under reasonable control, and was working over the pile of sales lists Tabor had left for her. She had one ear open, listening for Fannie’s voice from Reception, but what came through, all of a sudden, was a man’s voice, angry, and from the sound of it, right across the hall. “Tabor, we’re going to settle this right now.”

No mistaking the reedy, high-pitched, hard-driving tone, the classic lower east side inflections. If Berlin saw her, the game would be over. Nell jumped from her chair to run and hide in the ladies’ room, but took only a couple of steps. Do that, and she wouldn’t hear anything. She grabbed the previous day’s receipts from her desk, carried them to the utility table next to the doorway, pretended to arrange them. If Berlin came out of Tabor’s office, she’d go back to her desk and face the other way.

“God damn it, Tabor, I want to know why you told those cops I borrowed the key to your apartment, and I want a straight answer… No, I ain’t going to close the door. Stop whispering like a thief at me. This is
my
company, and I don’t give a good goddamn who hears what I’ve got to say to you. Now, I asked you a question.”

“All right, Mr. Berlin. What was I supposed to tell them?” Tabor’s words were harder to make out than Berlin’s; he wasn’t shouting. “They’d have found out anyway, and then I’d be in a real pickle.”

“Found out
anyway
? Tabor, you’re a four-flushing, lying son of a bitch! I’ve never borrowed the key to your filthy little love nest, and you know it.”

“Listen, Mr. Berlin. You can’t talk to me like that. I—”

“I’ll talk to you the way you deserve being talked to. Now, I want a straight answer. Why did you lie to those cops about me borrowing your key?”

A pause. Nell strained to hear. Finally, Tabor’s voice burst through, louder now, as angry as Berlin’s. “Fine, Mr. Berlin. You want a straight answer? Here it is. I told the cops you borrowed my key because you did. I told them that you’ve borrowed it before because you have. I’ve never asked you why because it was none of my business, but it’s not my job to take a fall for you…hey, Mr. Berlin, back off. You lay a hand on me, I’ll wipe up the floor with you. Don’t think I can’t.”

“Bastard!” Nell heard the sound of glass or porcelain smashing. “You’re fired. You’ve got two hours to clean out your desk. If you’re anywhere in this office by lunchtime,
I’ll
call the cops to move you out. Got it?”

Another pause, then Tabor’s voice. “Get out of my way…no, you just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Nell heard him stamp down the hall and out of earshot. A few minutes later, she heard Waterson’s voice. “Jesus Christ, what the hell’s going to happen next?” Tabor said something Nell couldn’t make out. Then Waterson spoke again. “All right, okay, Bart. Don’t worry, I’ll set him straight.”

A moment later, Berlin shouted, “Henry, you stay outa this. It’s between him and me.”

“Irvy, goddamn it, get hold of yourself. What the hell do you mean, it’s between you and him. He’s the office manager and I’m the senior partner—”

“I don’t care if you’re God Almighty. He’s not gonna tell the cops lies about me and hold onto his job—”

“What are you talking about, he told the cops lies about you?”

“That apartment where the colored guy was holding the girl? Our bookkeeper-assistant? He told the cops he lent me the key the day before.”

Waterson laughed. “So what the hell’s the problem? Bart didn’t say you had the girl kidnaped. The night before it happened, you had yourself a nice
shtup
, all private, who the hell would care about that? Listen, why don’t you just get your girl to talk to the cops, you know, off the record, and then that takes care of that. God knows how the
schvartzer
got in there. Maybe you didn’t lock up when you left. That’s the cops’ problem.”

“Henry!” A shriek. “I have never borrowed that key. I’ve never seen the inside of that apartment. I don’t take girls to love nests. Never!”

“Oh, Irvy, come on. Why do you always have to go around pretending all you got between your legs is air? Now, listen to me. Our bookkeeper’s missing—thank God we at least got that Mrs. What’s-her-name to fill in. But the assistant’s off for we don’t know how long, maybe forever, and today, the receptionist didn’t come in. So let’s fire the business manager, terrific idea, ‘cause he told the cops that the great Irving Berlin likes girls the same as any man. Hey, I tell you what. Let’s just close up the office. Shut it down. File for bankruptcy, get it over with. Jesus Christ, Irvy, Bart is all that’s holding us together right now. I’ve got to tell you, you ain’t been yourself lately, and right now, you look like hell. Go on, go back to your place and get yourself some sleep, then sit down and write your tunes for the show. Leave the office to me for now, okay?”

“God damn it, no, it’s
not
okay. I’m a partner—”

“All right, Irvy, enough. What with all you got going right now, I thought I’d show you a little consideration. But you don’t want to be reasonable. Fine! Either you butt out of this, or
I’m
gonna call
my
lawyer. You can call Josephson if you want, and then you know what’s gonna happen? You and me get to spend the next two weeks in courts, which, by the way, do not meet in the nighttime. You want to do that, or you want to get your show done? You ain’t gonna be able to do both.”

A short silence, then Berlin spoke. “Okay, Henry, you got me for now.” Nell had to strain to make out the words, so thick with fury had become Berlin’s speech. “But you ain’t even seen the beginning of this, never mind the end.”

Nell walked quickly back to her desk, picked up a pencil, leaned over the sales lists and sheltered her face with a hand. A moment later, there was a terrific slam of a door. She breathed a long sigh, then went back to work.

“I trust you’re coming along all right with those lists, Mrs. Stanley.”

She looked up. Tabor was smiling, but his cheeks were a jigsaw puzzle of red splotches and white patches. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I haven’t been at it long, but there clearly are some discrepancies. I should have a reckoning for you by lunchtime.”

“Excellent. Well, I’m certainly glad you decided to come by and apply for this job. We might just make your situation permanent. With a little raise in pay, of course.”

Nell remembered Fannie’s warning about what sort of job performance usually led to a raise. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “I’m glad you’re satisfied with my work. But I lost a good half-hour this morning, standing in the hall when I could have been in my office, on the job. Perhaps you’d be willing to give me a key, so if Fannie is late again, or we have a temporary, I can let myself in and start working.”

Tabor fingered his chin, then nodded. “I’d be foolish to say no to that offer, wouldn’t I?” His smile widened into a grin. “You’re always a step ahead of me, Mrs. Stanley. I called Fannie’s place and got the super to check her room. She wasn’t there, so I’ve called in a temp. One of the secretaries will cover Reception till she gets here.”

Nell wanted to scream.

Tabor pulled the key ring from his pocket, separated one and handed it to Nell. “Just don’t come in too early—they lock the outside door from midnight till seven in the morning.”

Nell opened her purse and slipped the key into a change pocket. “My enthusiasm does have bounds, sir.”

Tabor gave her the quick once-over. “I suppose you heard some of our discussion from across the hall.”

“I did hear voices—yours, Mr. Waterson’s and someone else’s I didn’t recognize. You were all talking quite loudly, but I have no idea about what. I was concentrating on my work.”

“Hmm. You’re pretty discreet, aren’t you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, sir.”

Tabor laughed, then walked out.

***

Nell gave the group her update over dinner. When she finished, Stark gestured with his fork. “Perhaps we should have gone to see the receptionist last night. I’ve got to feel concerned for her.”

Joplin pushed back from the table, and without a word, walked away. Less than a minute later, piano music floated into the kitchen.

“I heard Waterson say Berlin looked terrible,” said Nell. “Maybe he was up all last night doing more than writing music. With Fannie out of the way, he’d feel a lot safer taking on Tabor over the apartment key. I wish we could let the police know.”

“We can’t,” said Joe Lamb. “One question would lead to another, and before they were finished, they’d be here, and Martin and Mr. Joplin would be off to jail. Probably the rest of us right along with them.”

Stark said, “Can we find out where Berlin was last night?”

Nell tapped fingers on the table. “I don’t know how. His valet’s not going to tell us, and neither will that musical secretary of his. And he certainly won’t. But I didn’t tell you—I talked an office key out of Tabor, supposedly so I can get in to work early. Dad, why don’t we go in tonight and look around? Suppose we can find Scott’s music tucked away somewhere in Berlin’s office?”

Stark’s jaw dropped, then he started to chuckle. “My dear, your resourcefulness is a wonder.”

“I need to go with you.”

Everyone looked at Martin.

“You’ve got to let me—I know all of Mr. Berlin’s files, all the places he might hide a manuscript. If I don’t go, you can’t be sure you searched everywhere. And it’ll be night, so who’s gonna spot me in an empty office building?”

“How about on the subway?” said Stark.

Lamb got up from the table, walked out of the kitchen, came back holding a flat camel’s-hair cap. “Put this on and pull the brim down over your forehead.”

Stark was impressed. “He looks like a different man. All right, I guess having him there might be worth the risk. But let’s wait until it’s fully dark.”