Born of Corruption

by Teri Brown

  “Probably not,” I say cheerfully. “She doesn’t run in your circle.”

  Eugenia lights a cigarette, the flame glowing against her dark eyes. She’s pretty in a chic, Coco Chanel sort of way—all sharp edges and angles, from the sleek cap of black hair that comes to two sharp points on her well-defined jawline to her fashionably bony legs and arms. Even her teeth are sharp and ready to bite. Her allure, if you can call it that, lies in the unrelenting glossiness of her exterior.

  No wonder Jack left her. A man likes a little softness, if you ask me.

  Eugenia blows out a puff of smoke that obscures her face. “What circle does she run in?”

  I stand and slip several pearl and gold cuff bracelets onto my wrist. “The magician-psychic-entertainer-medium circle.”

  Before she can respond, the door opens and Jack enters, filling the room with his presence. He’s darkly handsome in his dinner jacket, with his hair freshly combed back. Eugenia hurries over to him, a smile lighting up the sculpted angles of her face. She offers her cheek and Jack gives her a perfunctory kiss. “How nice to see you, cousin,” he murmurs before turning to me, his eyes warm. “Darling, you look enchanting tonight.”

  I smile up at him, forgetting about Eugenia and my earlier suspicions. I loved Jack Gaylord the moment I clapped eyes on him.

  “Thank you, snookums.” Spotting Eugenia watching us, I pull his head down and give him a lingering kiss.

  “Are we ready to join the party?” he asks when I finally pull away.

  I nod and wipe my lipstick from his mouth. “Of course.” I give his cousin a smug smile. “How about you, Eugenia?”

  “I was born ready, Jacky; you know that,” she says, taking my husband’s arm.

  He gives her an indulgent smile.

  I really do hate her.

  We pause at the bottom of the landing and I’m almost breathless with anticipation. The lounge is already crowded, filled with that cheerful buzz that hostesses love to hear.

  I try to find Anna from my vantage point but can’t locate her. Maybe she hasn’t arrived yet. Jack waves at someone across the room, but there’s so many people packed into the room that I can’t tell who it is. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and is soon lost in the crowd.

  “He was sure in a hurry,” Eugenia observes, her voice ripe with innuendo. “Was that a woman he was waving to?”

  Turning away, I leave her to join the party. I snatch a glass of bubbly from a passing waiter and observe the crowd around me. These are the kind of people I love best, as bright and effervescent as the champagne in my hand. The pianist swings into a jazzy dance tune and couples begin to foxtrot.

  “Fabulous party, darling!”

  “Love the drinks! Where did you get the hooch, you lucky girl?”

  I say all the right things as I sway in and out of the crowd to the music, still looking for Anna. When I finally find her, she’s speaking to Eugenia, of all people. She has that serious look on her face that she gets sometimes when she meets new people. As if she’s reading their minds.

  I push my way through the crowd. “Anna! I was afraid you weren’t going to make it!”

  She smiles. “Mother kept me late and traffic was terrible. I worried you were going to start the scavenger hunt without me.”

  “Never! I see you’ve met Jack’s cousin, Eugenia.”

  Anna’s eyes dart from me to Eugenia. “Yes, she was just telling me how close she and Jack were as children.”

  Eugenia’s lips curl upward, revealing sharp little canines. “It was very nice talking to you, Anna. Cyn, I like your little friend. Perhaps we’ll meet up later?”

  She disappears into the crowd and Anna turns to me with a worried look. “How close are you and that woman anyway?”

  “Eugenia?” I scrunch my face up like I just sucked on a lemon and she laughs.

  “Good. I don’t like her much.”

  I link my arm with hers. “That makes two of us, darling; that makes two of us.”

  We move through the crowd and I proudly introduce her around. It’s crazy how excited these sophisticated, blasé people are to meet Anna. The show she did with her mother was a smashing success, not to mention the titillating rumors that she’s Houdini’s love child. I’d be wild with jealousy if she weren’t already my best friend.

  “Margery!” I squeal upon seeing an old classmate of mine. “Come, meet Anna. Anna, this is Margery, one of my best chums in high school. But don’t believe a word she says about me; Margery is a horrible liar!”

  Margery and I were known as the Terrible Twosome at school. I adore her, even though she did go off to some fancy finishing school in Switzerland after graduating from old East Side Girls High.

  She waves her hand in the air. “Don’t you believe it, sweetheart. I tell only the God’s honest truth, especially about this Sheba. Do both of you know Ella?”

  She introduces us to Ella Dawson, the charming fourteen-year-old motion picture star, before launching into a story about one of our many exploits. I half listen as I keep an eye on the party around me. Then my attention is caught by a dark-haired man prowling through the crowd like a cat.

  I frown, watching his strangely stealthy movements. “Excuse me,” I murmur.

  Anna catches my elbow, worry creasing her forehead. “Is something wrong?”

  I swear, sometimes I think that girl knows exactly how I feel.

  I smile, trying to reassure her. “I’m fine. I just need to check on the canapés. I think we’re running low. . . .”

  Her frown deepens, but I pull away, anxious to see who the man is. I keep my eyes on the back of his head as I move closer, not wanting to lose track of him. He turns and I gasp.

  The Morelli family’s top assassin, Nico “the Knife” Giuliani.

  “Nico!” I breathe, tremors of shock running down my spine. “What are you doing here?” I’ve met him socially before, of course, but he’s never dared to crash one of my parties. I wonder what gave him the gumption to do so tonight.

  His black lizard eyes give nothing away as he bends to kiss my cheek. “Well, you know, I never could resist a scavenger hunt.”

  “Actually, I didn’t know.” My welcoming smile is fixed as alarms sing inside my head.

  “Now you do.” His lips curve upward easily, but his expression remains watchful.

  I go for the surprise attack. “Your attendance wouldn’t have anything to do with the missing liquor shipment, would it?”

  That gets his attention and his face stills. “What would you know about that?”

  I shrug. “Enough.”

  “Where’s your husband?”

  It’s my turn to be surprised. “What do you want with Jack?”

  “Just to pay my respects. Where I come from, it’s not nice to attend a party without thanking the host for his hospitality.”

  I arch my eyebrows. “And exactly where do you come from, Nico?”

  A mocking smile plays about his mouth. “I come from the streets, princess. Someplace you’d know nothing about in spite of your uncle, the pistol you pack, and your tough-girl act.”

  I flush hot. “Really? That’s odd; I thought you came from the gutter.”

  His eyes darken and he opens his mouth to say something, but Olivia interrupts us. “We should start before the guests get too sauced to participate.”

  I nod, still staring at Nico. “Olivia, please add Mr. Giuliani here to one of the teams.”

  Nico inclines his head a bit, showing me the jagged scar running from his jawline to his chin, which gave him his nickname. He was in a knife fight at the tender age of twelve.

  The other guy is dead.

  Other than the scar, I suppose Nico could be considered handsome—if you’re into vipers, which I’m not. Olivia stares up at him, obviously entranced by his devilish good looks.

  “I appreciate it,” he says, smiling at my pretty social secretary. “Sounds like it’s going to be an entertaining evening.”

  I smile sti
ffly and yank Olivia away. “Don’t go near him,” I warn. “He’s bad news. And put him in Harriet Spetford’s group. Her breath can sink ships.”

  Olivia giggles and nods. I follow her to the staircase and run up the stairs to the landing, trying not to think about how far down it is.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” I yell, but it’s so noisy no one notices.

  Next to me, Olivia lets out an earsplitting whistle. I jump and she smiles at me apologetically.

  “I have five brothers,” she explains.

  I scan the crowd as it slowly quiets. Nico has disappeared. If I’d thought about it, I’d have told my driver-bodyguard to keep an eye on him. Al is leaning nonchalantly in a corner, partially obscured by a potted palm. He looks more like the thug he really is.

  “Thank you so much for coming! Tonight I say good-bye to my dear friend Anna Van Housen.” I wave a hand in her direction. “I think you’re awfully mean to run off to Europe and leave me all alone, but I know you’ll be back soon, and so famous you won’t have time for the likes of me.” I grin to show everyone I’m joking.

  Anna, no doubt embarrassed by the attention, gives a small smile and ducks her head. I blow her a kiss and move on.

  “Are you ready for the surprise?” I pause, enjoying the anticipation. “Tonight we’re having a city-wide scavenger hunt!” Everyone whistles and yells, and I laugh. “You didn’t think I told you all to hold your drivers for nothing, did you?”

  An excited buzz runs through the crowd. Across the room I spot Jack watching me, a proud smile playing about his mouth. He gives me a saucy wink and I grin back, reassured, for the moment, of his love.

  Nico sidles up to Jack and I watch, puzzled, as they slip into the study. Turning back to the party, I hold up a hand to quiet the guests. “The rules are simple. Olivia here has your team assignments and the items you need to find. Teams must report back here no later than two a.m. The team with the most items on the list wins!”

  “What do you win?” someone yells, and my lips curve.

  “Each member of the winning team will win a brand-new Lincoln Model L!”

  The crowd erupts in whoops and cheers, and I know this is one party that won’t soon be forgotten. Across the room, Nico stomps out of the study, his face dark. Cold rushes over me and I freeze until I see Jack emerge moments later. He’s adjusting his suit jacket and I make a mental note to ask my husband about the incident as soon as possible. The less we have to do with Nico, the better. As it is, Uncle Arnie is not going to be pleased that Nico attended the party. Of course, darling Ivy League Jack, who can tell me the difference between a catamaran and a yacht, has no clue about the ins and outs of mobster etiquette.

  “What do we have to find?” someone shouts from the crowd.

  I turn back to my guests. “Hold your horses! I was just getting to that part!” Peering at a paper Olivia gave me earlier, I read off the list:

  “One silk top hat

  One program from the Cotton Club

  One white glove from Lillian Gish

  One napkin signed by Pierre from Pierre’s on the Park

  A brand-new copy of So Big by Edna Ferber

  A program from No, No, Nanette signed by Louise Groody (Extra points if you bring Louise back to the party to sing “Tea for Two”!)

  One crystal ball from a real fortune-teller

  Handcuffs from a New York City police officer.”

  My audience groans and I laugh. “I told my secretary not to make it easy on us! And I had no idea what she was going to put on the list. I did it that way because I want to play too!” I do a little shimmy that sets my beads shaking, and the guests roar their appreciation. “I’ll see you all here by two!”

  A crowd forms around Olivia to get their assignments and people begin grouping together, no doubt discussing strategy.

  Anna hurries up to me. “I see you paired us up.” She studies the assignments, a frown line appearing between her eyes.

  I link my arm with hers as we descend the staircase. “You didn’t think I was going to let you out of my sight, did you? Now, don’t take it so seriously. It’s a game, not a school assignment!”

  Jack joins us and tugs on one of my curls. “I’m glad you put us together, darling. At least I’ll be around to keep you out of trouble.”

  “What? Problems in paradise already?” Eugenia comes up from behind Jack.

  I sniff. “Of course not. Shouldn’t you be finding your group?”

  She grins, her sharp little white teeth flashing. “I traded groups with Sophie Tucker. Turns out she wanted to get that music producer off alone. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Triumph gleams in her eyes. I’m saved from having to reply by a handsome, brown-haired kid a year or so younger than I am.

  “My bestest, dearest friend,” he says with his hand over his heart. “I wish to give you my deepest, most sincere thanks for inviting me along to these festivities and leaving my mother off the invitation.”

  I greet him with a kiss on both cheeks and introduce him to the others before answering him. “You owe me one, Reggie. She actually called my social secretary to complain, but Olivia stayed strong.”

  “Then I suppose I owe you both my everlasting gratitude.”

  Reggie, also known as Reginald Winchester III, is an impossible momma’s boy. The formidable Momma Winchester is so afraid of Reggie being kidnapped, she rarely lets him out of her sight and has practically smothered the life right out of him. I can’t imagine what will happen when he comes of age and can officially strike out on his own. He’ll probably buy an island and hire an army to keep her away.

  Reggie turns to Anna and Eugenia. “You two are in my group as well? Hallelujah, it’s my lucky day! A socialite and a psychic. Tell me, Miss Van Housen, what are the odds of Miss Gaylord giving me a kiss by the time the night is over?”

  Eugenia snorts.

  “Not good, Mr. Winchester, not good at all,” Anna answers, her lips curling upward.

  His face contorts in a dramatic frown. “Well, then, can you at least tell me if I’m going to live a long, decadent life or die tragically young?”

  Anna shifts her shoulders, discomfort written all over her pretty features. Before I say anything, Jack breaks in, putting a hand on Reggie’s shoulder. “You get bigger every time I see you, kid. You’re as tall as I am now.”

  Reggie ducks his head. “Mummy says it’s the superior Winchester genes.” He turns back to me. “Mummy and I just got back from across the pond, you know. I checked out that group you recommended, Cynthia, the Society for Psychical Research? Not a very friendly bunch.”

  Next to him, Anna pales. “Are you all right?” I ask, catching her elbow.

  She swallows and nods. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

  She’s clearly embarrassed, so I move on. “Now, where is our third man?”

  “Right here, I believe. Your other man dropped out so Olivia sent me in his place. I hope I’ll do.”

  The fellow speaking has an open friendly face and wavy chestnut hair. I frown. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know you?”

  He puts out his hand. “Curtis O’Donnell. But you can call me Curt. I came with the Vanderbilts.”

  I take his hand. “Nice to meet you. Welcome to our happy little group.”

  Just then Olivia hurries up to us and pulls on my arm. “Now that you know what you need to find, can you give me an itinerary of where you’re going? And call me on the phone every once in a while? We need to keep in touch in case a team wins before you get back.” She seems a bit harried, not at all her normal composed self.

  Anna peers at the list in my hands. “I know a place where we can get a crystal ball,” she says. “It’s on the way to the Cotton Club.”

  “That’s what we’ll do,” I tell Olivia. “I’ll try to check in on occasion. Will that work?”

  Olivia nods.

  I turn back to the group. “Everyone ready?” Anna’s watching Eugenia with a puzzled frown. Eugenia is s
taring hungrily at Jack, who is looking around the room, preoccupied, his mind clearly somewhere else. Reggie is trying to look down Eugenia’s dress. Curt is puffing on a cigarette, frankly studying everyone in the group like he’s Sherlock Holmes or something.

  I sigh.

  Why do I get the feeling this scavenger hunt may not turn out to be quite as much fun as I thought it would be?

  Three

  Less than a half an hour later we’re all being silly and gin giggly, packed like sardines in the back room of a dingy secondhand shop. Anna’s fortune-teller friend Madame Zola is sitting in a straight-backed chair in front of a small table draped with the same blue silk as the walls. She’s wearing a brightly patterned turban and her eyes are lined with kohl.

  A delicious shiver travels down my arms. Even though Anna told me that most mediums are fakes, I don’t believe her. Anna’s the real thing, after all. How do we know this Madame Zola is a phony? She certainly looks genuine to me.

  “You are on a great quest,” the fortune-teller intones.

  Curt snorts. “Yeah, for a new Lincoln.”

  Reggie lifts his flask. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “You’ll drink to anything,” Jack snorts, taking out a cigarette.

  “Hear, hear.” Reggie takes another pull from the flask and then peers with one eye into the opening. “Damn. I think I’m done.”

  “Look, can we just skip the drama?” Jack says, glancing at the wristwatch I bought for him last Christmas. “We have a scavenger hunt to get back to.”

  I frown. Why do I feel as if he’s eager to get back to more than the scavenger hunt?

  Next to him, Eugenia pouts. “Oh, Jacky, you’re ruining our fun! At least let her tell us something about our future, just for ducks!”

  Is it just me or did Madame Zola roll her eyes?

  Anna smiles at the fortune-teller. “We actually are on a quest. We’re on a scavenger hunt and I was wondering if you would lend us one of your crystal balls for the night.”

  Madame Zola raises an eyebrow. “A scavenger hunt? This is a game?”

  I nod and show her the list of items.

  “I see. So this is what young people do for fun.” She shrugs, looking unimpressed. “To each his own, I guess. I’ll give each of you a one-line fortune for five dollars apiece.”