by Jack Murray
‘You should go out front and work on the songs you’re going to sing with Enrique.’
Mary walked outside and joined Enrique in the corridor. They discussed a number of options for her set. Four songs were agreed on and Mary walked on stage, aware that all eyes were trained on her. She and Enrique went through the first verse of each of the songs without any problems, although Enrique hit a few bum notes when Mary forgot her best intention and bent too low on a couple of occasions.
Once the brief rehearsal was complete, Enrique suggested she return to the dressing room and wait for the call. The orchestra would play while the customers arrived. Once the room had filled up a little, she would make her entrance.
Mary walked off stage and asked a stagehand where she could find a washroom. He indicated a door at the end of the corridor. Just ahead of it she saw another door. She walked towards the bathroom; a quick check behind revealed she was alone in the corridor. She ignored the washroom door and opened the other. It was a stairwell. She skipped down the stairs.
The door at the bottom was open. She walked through into a well-lit corridor. There were three doors on her right. A man sat outside the door at the end. He stood up as she came through the door.
‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ was what he meant to say. He got as far as ‘hey’ when he took in the full view of Mary in the very short dress and the exceptionally deep cut at the front.
‘Hello,’ said Mary. ‘I seem to be lost.’
The man had removed his hat. He said, ‘What are you looking for, lady?’
Mary sized the man up immediately. He was over six feet. Possibly closer to seven feet tall. At least from where Mary was looking. Which was up. She smiled at him.
‘The bathroom. But I seem to have found you. What’s your name?’
‘Harry, Harry Schulz’ said the giant His voice was a bass rumble. Mary thought it better not to mention that her fiancé’s manservant was also called Harry.
She pointed to the rooms, and asked, ‘What’s in the rooms, Harry?’
The giant looked around. He looked uncomfortable. ‘I can’t say.’
‘And the other one, you were sitting outside?’ she said looking around his shoulder. She looked up again and smiled at him.
‘Say, are you new here?’ He was quick. Mary also sensed he wasn’t telling the full truth. He seemed uncomfortable.
‘Yes, how did you guess?’ replied Mary sweetly.
‘People here think I’m a dope, but I’m not so stupid.’
‘You’re not, Harry. I wouldn’t put up with it if I were you. You seem like a nice person to me.’
The giant smiled. ‘You shouldn’t be here, lady,’ said Harry. It wasn’t threatening. If anything, he seemed concerned for her. ‘You should go back upstairs. The bathroom is first on the right.’
Mary stood on tip toe and pecked him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Harry, don’t you let those bad men make fun of you.’
Harry floated back to his seat outside the bedroom while Mary raced up the stairs. Mission accomplished. She went through the door and ran into Sofia.
‘Hey, where have you been? You’re on in a few minutes.’
32
It was seven in the evening. Mulroney and Hammett sat facing Kit along with Alastair, Algy, Agatha and Natalie in the library at Bellavista. Foley was also sitting amongst the group. Kit and Alastair wore black tuxedos, but the other men remained in their suits. The atmosphere was tense. The only sound in the room when Kit was not speaking was the beating of nervous hearts on the eve of battle. No one was under any illusion as to the difficulty of the task ahead.
For once Hammett and Mulroney were glad that someone else was in command. Whether it was the accent, his bearing or just an obvious air of command, each had accepted Kit’s role as the leader of the operation. He also had the most to lose, they realised.
‘So, to recap,’ said Kit, ‘I will enter the club with Natalie and Uncle Alastair. When Mary passes on what she has found out, Natalie and I will fake a falling out. Natalie will go outside to where you will be waiting.’ Kit looked at Algy, Hammett, Mulroney and Foley. ‘You’ll have found a way into the building, through the back, hopefully.’
Hammett nodded at Kit.
‘Aunt Agatha, stays in the car in case we need to make a quick getaway.’
‘Check,’ said Agatha.
Alastair turned to Agatha, appalled. ‘Have you been drinking?’
Agatha shrugged nonchalantly and looked up at Kit. Alastair was none too keen to have Agatha back at the wheel of his beloved car and had remained grimly silent at this part of the plan.
When Kit finished his summary, the group filed out of the house and into the several cars parked at Bellavista. The drive to Lehane’s took around half an hour. Kit, Alastair and Natalie drove right up to the club, while the others stayed back.
After climbing out of the car, Agatha took the wheel. Alastair turned to her and said, ‘For God’s sake, remember what I told you.’
Agatha gave a salute which further irritated her brother. Moments later, as he was walking into the club with his nephew and Natalie, he heard the gears crunch noisily as Agatha drove the car away. Kit would have smiled had he not been in such a rush to get inside. He was desperate to see Mary and make sure she was alright.
The doorman waved the group through and they were met by another man dressed in a tuxedo. He looked at Kit and then lingered a beat longer than decorum permitted on Natalie, before saying, ‘Come this way.’
Soon they were entering a large room with tables and chairs. It was still early so there were probably more people playing in the orchestra than paying customers. Kit didn’t mind. He scoured the room looking for Mary.
-
Detective Frank Nelson was in his early thirties. He’d been in the force less than ten years and never risen very high. He didn’t care. The pay wasn’t much better at Mulroney’s level, but the hours and the responsibility were greater. Who wanted that? Who wanted to spend years, like Mulroney, putting your life on the line, dealing with the very worst of humankind? All for a lousy salary and a pension that would require you to continue working until you dropped dead.
He had a better plan.
Nelson looked like a movie star. He liked their lifestyle. He liked the way they dressed. He liked the girls they had on their arms. What was not to like? His first trip to Lehane’s had been with some buddies. They liked to drink, and he’d had to flash his badge to the doormen to restore a situation that had deteriorated badly. This is when he’d first met Eddie Lehane.
Lehane had the young policeman checked out. Nelson had his own racket going with a bunch of girls. The news was a gift to someone like Lehane, always on the lookout to extend his influence. He gave Nelson a choice. In fairness to Lehane, the choice had been fairly generous.
Nelson grabbed it with both hands, although he did have to give up his sideline. This was not such a great loss. He was sacrificing one income stream that combined some risk with no little hassle, for another source of revenue which, seemingly, entailed very little effort. Just information from time to time.
The detective bureau down at the Hall was the usual war zone. Nelson was counting on this. Some days, and this was one, it was anarchy. The city just went mad. They were all there: pimps, prostitutes, drug addicts, hoodlums. He ignored them and made his way along the corridor, passing a stream of policemen heading in the other direction. Soon, he found the person he wanted. He was young, one of Mulroney’s men. Moore or something like that. Nelson knew some things that were career-detracting about him. He’d hinted before at the young man’s secret, so they both knew where they stood.
‘Hi there, good-looking,’ said Nelson pointedly. The other young policeman flinched. He looked at Nelson suspiciously. Nelson nodded to the room he was standing outside of.
‘Who’s inside?’
The young man saw nothing in the question, so he told him.
‘Can I go in?’
&nbs
p; ‘Mulroney said no one could see them.’
‘Come on, what’s the harm, sweetie?’ said Nelson. The harm in question was all too clear to the young man.
‘Make it quick,’ said the young man, realising he needed a change in career.
‘You’re cute,’ said Nelson opening the door. He emerged three minutes later. Eyes ahead, he walked straight past the young man and down the corridor. The young man felt a wave of relief. It had been quick. No one had seen them. No harm done.
Nelson headed out of the Hall. Outside the sky was a mauve and orange blending into night. The sun was an orange-red. Another hot day tomorrow, he thought. The early evening traffic had thinned out and he crossed the road to a payphone.
He had no change.
‘Damn,’ he said. He went to a store and bought some cigarettes. He returned to the payphone. A kid was talking to his sweetheart. Nelson waited. And waited. He tapped the kid on the shoulder. The kid put his hand over the phone and told Nelson where to go. Nelson’s eyes hardened. Tempting as it was to take the kid out there and then, he realised it would not look good. He showed his badge.
The kid looked at him in confusion. The Hall was just across the road. He hung up and left Nelson alone. Finally, Nelson was able to dial the number he wanted.
‘Hello Mr Lehane. It’s Frank Nelson.’
-
The first thing Mary saw was Kit sitting with Uncle Alastair and Natalie, near the front of the stage. She felt a surge of relief and confidence. All of a sudden, her dress, far from being a source of discomfort became something else entirely. A memory for the man she would spend her life with. A moment when she realised the power she had. And a realisation that she wanted only to share that power. These few moments would be theirs.
She smiled at Kit, one eyebrow raised slightly as she enjoyed his reaction, a mixture of shock and an appealing amount of undisguised desire. Her eyes never left his. Kit, alas, like any sensible chap, given the opportunity to gaze upon such a sublime manifestation of the female form, was unable to hold Mary’s eyes for very long, when the rest of her person was displayed to such advantage. And to be fair to Kit, he took full advantage.
Even Alastair found himself warming to the task. He settled down to enjoy Mary’s singing. No point in wasting time thinking about what lay ahead. No, it was best that he played his part as a paying customer of Lehane’s, there to enjoy the entertainment provided. Less suspicious that way. As Mary only had eyes for Kit and Kit was, likewise, happily engaged, Alastair felt quite free to enjoy the show. And there was a lot on show.
Kit wasn’t sure whether he should have been enjoying what he was seeing quite as much as he was. It was certainly a major distraction. The impact on the other men in the audience he didn’t care about. In fact, they were the last thing on his mind. Followed closely by Dain Collins. However, the third song, “Till We Meet Again” brought matters back to the key reason for his being there. But my god, she was beautiful. And her voice was as pure as her dress, clearly, was not.
He heard her sing, ‘Smile while you kiss me sad adieu.’ Her voice swirled around his head, filled his senses and lifted him up. She smiled down at Kit as she sang, ‘Till we meet again.’
As much as he wanted to keep his eyes fixed on his fiancée, Kit managed to glance around at the audience. It was clear he wasn’t the only one enjoying the show. Eddie Lehane was spellbound by the young English girl. One more number and she would be off stage for half an hour. Plenty of time, he thought. Why wait? He watched her move gracefully along the stage. Like a cat. Now she moved into the audience, along the front row. Teasing the men. She bent low over one of the front tables. Lehane cursed the head obscuring what must have been a sensational view. He was impatient for the song to end.
Finally, Mary finished her first set. At this point, she did something which sent Lehane’s imagination into orbit. She leaned over to the beautiful woman in the front row and whispered in her ear. Lehane didn’t care where her interests lay. In a few minutes that would be academic. Much to his amusement though, the young man who had been sitting with the young woman seemed to take offence at this. How hypocritical, thought Lehane. You were sitting with your tongue out like the rest of us a moment ago. He motioned for one his men to come over.
‘Yes, boss?’
Lehane nodded towards the departing Mary, ‘Tell the girl to come to my office. Now.’ Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the young woman Mary had spoken to storming away from the table. She was a looker alright. The girl had good taste. He considered calling one of his men to stop her but then thought better of it. He looked back at the table where she had been sitting. The two men seemed to be deep in conversation, remarkably unconcerned by the departure of their companion. He could hardly blame them. Lehane’s specialised in providing plenty more where she came from.
The music started again. Lehane turned to go back to his office.
-
Natalie walked past the doormen, eyes staring at a point one hundred yards away. She headed directly for the automobile housing Agatha. She stopped briefly at the window and then continued walking around the corner.
She saw Algy’s car up ahead.
Hammett and the other two men climbed out of the car and ran towards her. Natalie said, ‘Lady Mary thinks Miss Collins is in the basement corridor to the left of the stage. The end room. It’s guarded, but the man is quite nice apparently. She doesn’t want him to be hurt.
Hammett rolled his eyes at Mulroney. He asked Natalie to wait in the car. At this point, Algy drove away with Natalie leaving Hammett and Mulroney by the road. The two men cut across the woods that surrounded the night club. They arrived at the back of the club. Earlier reconnaissance had established the presence of a rear fire exit. There did not appear to be any windows at the back, much like the front. They surmised, based on the layout suggested by Mary, that the doorway was at the other side of the nightclub from where it was likely Dain Collins was being held.
‘What do you think?’ asked Mulroney.
‘It’s unguarded, which is good, but it may be locked,’ said Hammett.
Mulroney took out his gun, ‘I brought a key.’
Hammett nodded. Gunfire wasn’t a problem. In fact, it was a necessary part of Kit’s plan. He would need a diversion to get to Dain Collins. In the meantime, he and Mulroney could keep the rest of Lehane’s men busy.
-
Kit looked at the note Mary had slipped onto the table as she had whispered into Natalie’s ear. He was still recovering from the sight of Mary in the dress if it could be so described. The note was clearly written in a hurry. It read:
She’s in basement, possibly end room. Stairs to left of stage looking out on room. It’s guarded by giant. Guard seems gentle. Don’t hurt. He’s called Harry.
The three of them quickly read the note. Mary had also drawn a rough map. Once again Kit’s heart swelled as he thought about the young woman he was engaged to. Mary was walking back towards the side of the stage, waving to the crowd who were applauding her performance rapturously. Kit nodded to Natalie. The young French woman began to gesticulate wildly and shouted, ‘You prefer her to me. I’m off.’
This was certainly true, thought Kit but Natalie had carried off her role to perfection. She stood up and turned around dramatically, before striding in the direction of the exit.
Kit motioned to Alastair to come closer. He said, ‘I’m going towards the exit. Follow me as far as the stage. Don’t fire unless you have to. In fact, cause a diversion if someone looks like they’re following me.
‘I’ll think of something,’ said Alastair.
As they were speaking, they didn’t see Mary suddenly change direction from the stage and accompany a man in the direction of Lehane’s office.
-
Lehane saw Mary walk towards his office. He held the door open for her as she walked in. His heart was beating like an Indian drum on the eve of battle. This was unusual, but then again, Mary was unusual. He looked
at her movement, so graceful, her body, so lithe. He didn’t care if she didn’t sing again. He was going to enjoy this.
Mary smiled up at him as she entered the office. This sent his heartbeat racing even faster. At this rate he was going to have a stroke, he thought. He walked over and closed the door behind them. Mary turned to face him and sat against his oak table. She placed her hands behind her back. The look of submissiveness disguised the fact she had taken hold of a rather hefty paperweight.
Lehane was on the point of collapse at the sight of this barely-dressed beauty, looking up at him so compliantly.
‘How do you think that went?’ asked Mary with a smile that would have had a monk gleefully shouting his resignation to the Abbott.
‘Swell, honey. They love you. Hey, we all love you.’
Mary’s eyes narrowed. She could sense that Lehane was on edge. She wasn’t so naïve as to wonder why. She walked towards him, which seemed to surprise Lehane. She put her free hand on his chest quite firmly. The other hand clutched the paperweight.
‘I’m glad you liked it, Mr Lehane. I didn’t want to let you down. That would have been bad.’
‘Are you a bad girl, Mary?’ asked Lehane. His eyes were, by now, almost in flames.
Mary wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this. Her knowledge of the multifarious dimensions of human relationships extended only so far. The last time she had been a bad girl was at school.
For wont of anything better to say, Mary replied, ‘Bad girls are normally chastised, aren’t they?’
This seemed to have a strange impact on Lehane, who seemed on the point of collapse. He managed to croak in response, ‘Yes, they should be spanked.’
‘I was caned once,’ admitted Mary. At school. A practical joke that went awry. The teacher was soaked. Mrs Jenkins, she remembered.
