“He seems like a nice man.”
“Yes, I told him to pick me up here at six forty-five, but I’m afraid I had to send him away when he arrived.”
“Why?”
“Well, silly me, I broke my bottle of perfume in the bathroom when I was getting dressed. He was kind enough to go in search of a new bottle of it for me, but that was an hour ago. I decided I might as well go upstairs and have a drink and dance. He can meet me. Do you have the time?”
I took out my pocket watch. “It’s nearly quarter of eight. We’re heading up there ourselves, so we might as well ride up together.”
“Certainly.”
“Ah, but you’ve forgotten to push the elevator button, Mrs. Verte.”
“What? Oh, so I have. I am so forgetful this evening,” she said, laughing lightly.
Leaning over, I smiled and pushed the button for her as Alan joined us.
“You remember Mr. Keyes, Mrs. Verte.”
“Oh yes, of course, good evening, Mr. Keyes. Don’t you look handsome? You both do.”
Alan smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Verte. And you look lovely. Another new dress?”
“Yes. I bought this one in New York for the trip. I wanted something easy to dance in, not too tight. The weather was just dreadful today, wasn’t it? I spent the day shopping. I bought a lovely day dress at a little boutique up the street. It needed a little altering, and they didn’t do it on site, so I brought it to Blount’s this afternoon. It should be ready Tuesday,” Mrs. Verte added.
“Mr. Blount mentioned you had dropped off a dress to be hemmed this afternoon. He also said Mr. Bennett bought a new suit.”
“Oh, that Mr. Blount—such a charmer, isn’t he?”
“He does seem to be quite fond of you, Mrs. Verte,” Alan said.
She laughed lightly. “Oh, I still have my feminine wiles, I suppose, though Mr. Bennett doesn’t like the way Mr. Blount flirts with me one bit.”
“Yes, I got that impression.”
“It’s harmless, I assure you. And I assured George, too.” The elevator door slid open, and Mr. Bennett stepped out, clearly surprised to see us.
“Vivian. Mr. Barrington and Mr. Keyes.”
“There you are, George. I had just about given up on you and was heading up to the Sky Star with these handsome men.”
“You sent me out at a quarter to seven on a Saturday night, Vivian, to find Lavender Lilacs by Phillipe, not exactly an easy task, but I managed. Here.” He handed her a small bag. “They were just closing, but I convinced them to sell me one bottle. It wasn’t cheap.”
“Good perfume never is, George. Thank you so much for doing this for me. I insist on repaying you.”
He smiled. “Please don’t give it another thought, madam. It was my pleasure, though certainly not easy to find.”
She laughed. “Lavender Lilacs is my signature scent. I never wear anything else, George, so I really appreciate you finding it. Was it at Monique’s as I suggested?”
Mr. Bennett shook his head. “No. I walked the four blocks up there, but they don’t carry it. I finally found it over on Fairbanks Court at a place called Sheridan’s, I think.”
“It seems to me the ladies’ boutique right here in the hotel has a display of Lavender Lilacs in the window, Mr. Bennett,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “Now you tell me. I’ve been up and down Michigan Avenue tonight, and it’s not pleasant out.”
“You should have looked in the hotel first,” she admonished. “Now you’re all disheveled and out of breath.”
“I’m sorry, Vivian, but I didn’t think to look here. You suggested I try Monique’s four blocks north. I’ve been traipsing up and down the street, in and out of every women’s boutique I could find. It’s no wonder I’m disheveled and out of breath.”
“Well, you’ll have to put yourself together.” She straightened his collar and smoothed out the lapel on his jacket. “Better. But you should run a comb through your hair once we get upstairs.” She turned to us. “Say, why don’t you join us in the Sky Star Ballroom this evening, Mr. Barrington, Mr. Keyes? Unless, that is, you have other plans. I’d love to have such handsome men to dance with.”
“Well, we don’t wish to intrude, Mrs. Verte,” I said.
“Oh, George doesn’t mind, do you, George? He would be happy to be able to sit out a few, I’m sure.”
Mr. Bennett nodded. “It’s true, I’m sure Vivian is more of a dancer than I am.”
“Well, all right then. Okay with you, Alan?”
“Sure, it’s fine,” he said, but I couldn’t really tell if he meant it or not.
“Splendid. This will be fun.”
“Well, go put some of that perfume on, then, and let’s get this evening started,” Mr. Bennett said.
“I won’t be but a moment. I’ve been dancing in my room, practicing my rhumba to the radio while I waited for you.” She did a little rhumba step in the hall—“bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, BUMP.”
“Good heavens,” he said.
“Yes, indeed, and with such handsome dance partners, I intend to dance all night.”
“Just don’t ask me to rhumba,” Alan said, feeling the strain of his pants, I was sure.
“Oh, I just might, Mr. Keyes. I just might.” Her eyes sparkled.
“The band starts at eight, so we should hurry if we want to get a table by the window,” Mr. Bennett said.
“I’ll be right back.” She hurried back down the hall and disappeared into her room.
Mr. Bennett shook his head again. “Women. Honestly, gentlemen, there’s no need for you to wait here with me. Why don’t you go on up?”
“We don’t mind, Mr. Bennett.”
“I get the impression that with a woman like her, the minutes could be more like hours.” he said.
Alan and I laughed. “It’s okay. We’ll keep you company.”
But it truly was only about three or four minutes before Mrs. Verte emerged once more, looking calmer and more refreshed and smelling softly of lilacs. The loose strand of hair had been recurled and plastered back in place.
“All right, gentlemen, I’m ready.” She had switched to a smaller evening bag. “I thought George was going to bring me the perfume upstairs, so I was going to take my larger bag, but I don’t need it now, do I?”
“No, ma’am. And you smell lovely, Mrs. Verte,” Alan said.
“Thank you, Mr. Keyes.”
Mr. Bennett stared. “Lovely isn’t the word for it. I think I would have walked another fifty blocks to find that perfume.”
Mrs. Verte giggled and smiled. “Oh, George.”
I pushed the button for the elevator again.
The four of us stepped in, Mrs. Verte taking Mr. Bennett’s arm, and I pressed the button for the Sky Star Ballroom. It was nonstop all the way up, and soon we stepped out into the vestibule of the ballroom, a small corridor with restrooms on either end. Through two open double doors, we glanced the famous ballroom of the Edmonton Hotel, the tables glowing with white linens and candles, everything sparkling and shimmering, the walls glittering behind gold sconces.
“Good evening, Mr. Bennett,” the maître d’ said as we approached. “How nice to see you here. You don’t visit us often in the evening.”
“I’m stepping out with this lovely lady and these two gentlemen from Milwaukee. We’d like a table for four by a window, please, Oscar,” Mr. Bennett said.
The maître d’ glanced at the tables behind him. “I am afraid, Mr. Bennett, our window seats are all reserved this evening.”
Mr. Bennett sighed, took out his wallet, and handed him five dollars. “Yes, I have a reservation.”
“Right this way, Mr. Bennett, of course,” he said, seating us at a very nice table along a window.
The maître d’ held Mrs. Verte’s chair for her and handed us all programs for the evening, listing the various songs and numbers that would be played.
Alan gawked about the room, looking out the window. “Golly, Heath, look
how high up we are. Look how pretty everything is down there.”
I peered out the window but could only see dim lights below through the mist and fog. “Alan, you can barely see anything tonight.”
“I know, but it’s very pretty anyway.”
I smiled. “Yes, everything is very pretty indeed. Some might say handsome.”
He flushed but smiled back. “This whole place is pretty. The tablecloths, the candles, the windows, golly. And look at the ceiling, just like stars in the sky.”
I looked up at the barrel-vaulted ceiling painted in midnight blue, with hundreds of twinkling lights set in it. “Hence the name the Sky Star Ballroom, I imagine.”
“It’s all so magical. Say, my horoscope said magic would play a part in my emotions this weekend, and it has.”
I looked into his deep blue puppy-dog eyes, so big and wondrous, like a child’s at Christmas, and I wanted to kiss him. “You’re right, Alan. It is magical, just like your horoscope said.”
Alan nodded again as he craned his neck this way and that. “And look at the people, all dressed up. I guess you were right about the tuxedo.”
I glanced about the room myself, noting the many ladies in their gowns, gloves, and jewels of many colors, and the gentlemen in their black tuxedos and ties, all so handsome. “Yes, a tuxedo, as I said, is de rigueur in Chicago.”
“And in New York, Mr. Barrington,” Mrs. Verte added.
“Quite so, I’m sure. You really are looking quite radiant this evening, Mrs. Verte. That dress suits you well.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Barrington. I wanted something easy to move in, as I said. Nothing tight fitting tonight.”
“Unlike my pants,” Alan said, shifting uncomfortably as we all laughed.
“I hope they won’t impede your dancing, Mr. Keyes. I intend to get you and Mr. Barrington out onto the dance floor a great deal,” Mrs. Verte said.
“It sounds like you will have us all worn out before the night is through,” Alan said.
“That’s my intention. It’s not often I have so many eligible partners. I’m so glad you could join us.”
“It’s our pleasure, truly. Thank you for having us. I just hope we’re not intruding,” I said.
“Not at all, Mr. Barrington,” Mr. Bennett said. “Vivian and I are just getting to know each other, but there’s no reason we can’t do that in your company as well.”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m sure you’re just being polite. Alan and I will stay for a bit, but the night is young and we have many other nightclubs to hit.”
Mr. Bennett laughed. “Ah, very well. But for now let’s all enjoy ourselves together.”
A waiter appeared and took our drink order, only to reappear a short time later with his tray.
When the waiter had gone again, Alan raised his glass. “To my first Chicago nightclub.”
“Hear, hear,” we all replied.
We drank our toast with good cheer all around. The night was festive, the atmosphere light and gay.
“George, you still haven’t combed your hair,” Vivian said.
He looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh, yes, I completely forgot.”
“And what time is it? Shouldn’t the band have started by now?” Mrs. Verte asked.
Mr. Bennett glanced at his watch. “It’s 7:55, and they’re supposed to start at eight. I guess I have time to freshen up now, if you will all excuse me.”
“Go ahead, George, your hair is sticking up in places it shouldn’t be.” She laughed.
He grinned. “No wonder, running around all over Chicago in this wind. I’ll be right back.”
At six after eight, Mr. Bennett returned, looking more put together and relaxed. As he took his seat he remarked, “I’m not hearing any music.”
All eyes turned toward the bandstand, where the bandleader and several musicians had gathered. Gloria Eye and Walter Gillingham were not in view. “Probably some delay or other,” Mr. Bennett said.
We visited some more, Alan recounting with some relish his first two days in Chicago, and what we had planned for Sunday, our last full day. Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Verte, I noticed, listened politely.
“I could use another drink, George,” she said, when Alan had taken a break between stories.
“Who am I to argue with that?” He finished his off and signaled for the waiter.
“How about you boys?”
“Thanks, Mr. Bennett, I’m still good,” I said.
“Me too,” Alan said. “I’m usually more of a beer drinker. I have to take it slow with these martinis.”
“Suit yourselves.” The waiter appeared again and Mr. Bennett ordered two more martinis before glancing at his watch once more. “This is getting to be a bit much. They’re nearly twenty minutes late.”
I glanced toward the bandstand again. “Looks like it shouldn’t be too much longer, Mr. Gillingham and Miss Eye just arrived. He’s looking rather disheveled and winded, too, must be the theme tonight.”
“Where have they been, and who are they?” Mrs. Verte asked.
“Walter Gillingham is the lead trumpet player and Miss Eye is the vocalist. I guess they couldn’t start without them. She seems rather out of sorts, as well. I wonder what happened,” I said.
The bandleader took to the stage, above which hung a banner that read John Storm and the Storm Clouds, starring Miss Gloria Eye, the Eye of the Storm, with Maynard Henning on the piano. “Ladies and gentlemen, our apologies for the brief delay in this evening’s festivities, but we promise to make it up to you. I’m John Storm, bandleader for the Storm Clouds. We’re going to kick things off this evening with the Lindy Hop and the song ‘Goody Goody,’ vocalized by our own Eye of the Storm, Miss Gloria Eye.”
The ballroom applauded politely as Miss Eye took the stage and stepped up to the microphone, looking stunning in the long, sleeveless, low-cut champagne-colored gown she’d picked up at Blount’s earlier. A large emerald glittered around her neck. Even from a distance I could tell she had hurried to get onstage. Her makeup was off a bit, and her hair was tousled, but still attractive. She smoothed it into place behind a pearl comb as she began to sing and swing.
In an instant Mrs. Verte was on her feet. “George, let’s dance.”
“To the Lindy Hop? Gee, Vivian, I think that would give me a heart attack. Perhaps one of these young pups is up to it.”
She laughed. “Very well, but you can’t sit them all out. Gentlemen?” she said, turning toward Alan and me.
I looked at Alan, and he looked at me before getting resignedly to his feet. “Sure thing, Mrs. V, but I’m not very good at it.”
Mr. Bennett and I watched from the sidelines with a mixture of admiration and humor as Alan turned and twirled her every which way. When at last the song ended, they both returned to the table breathless but smiling.
“Oh my, Mr. Keyes, you are too humble. You’re a very good dancer.”
“Why thank you, Mrs. V, but you make me look good. And my pants, I believe, are still in one piece.”
We all laughed as they took their seats once more and Mr. Bennett ordered a bottle of champagne, 1936. “We’re celebrating tonight, aren’t we?” he said.
Mrs. Verte looked at him. “We certainly are celebrating, George. Let’s all drink up, for the night is young and so are we, relatively speaking.”
“What are we celebrating?” Alan asked.
Mr. Bennett smiled. “New friends, new beginnings.”
Mrs. Verte laughed. “I’ll drink to that, as well as Mr. Keyes’s first visit to Chicago, and his first nightclub.”
“Um, right. To new friends and new beginnings,” Alan said.
“Yes, new friends, and a night of firsts,” I added.
We raised our glasses and finished our drinks as the band played a foxtrot. When the waiter had returned and poured the champagne, we toasted once more, and this time I did the honors.
“To our charming hosts, the lovely Mrs. Verte, and the engaging and dapper Mr. Bennett.”
/>
We all raised our glasses. “Thank you for that, Mr. Barrington,” Mr. Bennett said.
“Oh, George. They’re playing a lovely waltz, ‘The Blue Danube.’ Dance with me. I know you can waltz, it’s just one-two-three, one-two-three.”
Mr. Bennett downed his champagne and set his glass on the table. “A waltz I can definitely handle, and with you I’ll be floating.” He stood up and escorted her to the dance floor. While they were gliding about the floor, I looked across at Alan and smiled.
“Having a good time?”
“Well, sure, Heath. It’s swell.”
“But?”
He leaned in across the table. “I wish I could dance with you.”
“Me too, I really do. We will when we get back to the room tonight, okay?”
“Deal, Detective.” Then he glanced toward the bandstand once more. “Gee, that Miss Eye is really something, isn’t she?”
She was indeed a vision with a lovely voice. “Yes, she is. I suspect she may be going places.”
“She should be in Hollywood.”
“She just may end up there. We’ll have to wait and see.”
The waltz ended and Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Verte returned to the table, but then Mrs. Verte led me to the floor for a two-step. When that was over, we finally convinced her to sit one out, and we drank more champagne. I was beginning to feel slightly giddy. The band was playing “Victory Polka,” a holdover from the war.
“What are your plans for tomorrow, Mr. Bennett, Mrs. Verte?” I asked in between sips.
“A little sightseeing and some more shopping for me, I’m sure, and lunch with my uncle,” Mrs. Verte said.
“Tomorrow is supposed to be my day off, but I have a staff meeting tomorrow morning and then a few hours free in the afternoon before I have to work on scheduling. Perhaps during my free period I could escort you, Vivian.”
“That would be lovely, George. I want to see Lake Michigan. I’m going to walk down to the pier in the morning after breakfast.”
“Haven’t you seen that old lake before, Vivian? You grew up here.”
“Actually, Lake Michigan is more of an inland sea, Mr. Bennett. It’s quite large,” I said.
“There, you see, George? Old lake, indeed. I love Lake Michigan. The smell of it always takes me back to my childhood.”
Death Checks In Page 9
