"Clara, let's get somewhere a little more private before you start all that." He smiled and, taking his arm from her shoulders, held her hand.
"Always so proper… keeps me in line, he does. Can't stand all the attention, but he became a movie star. Funny baby." She pulled on Cooper's ear and sat back in the seat to look at Joe. "Course you're a mighty fine looking kid yourself. I could get you a bit part in my next movie if you wanna come out to Hollywood, Joey O."
"Aww… no thanks, Miss—I mean Clara. I'm not the acting sort. I'm just your average working Joe."
"I'm jest a working girl myself, Joey O." The cab pulled up to the Sugar House. "This where ya work?"
"Kinda… you wanna come in? I'm sure my bosses would get a kick outta you coming to the office. They don't like visitors ordinarily, but I'm sure they'll make an exception in your case." Clara looked around at the street and thought for a moment.
"Why not? Seems like the least I could do, seeing as ya saved my hindquarters back there and you're getting us some good hooch. Come on Gary, baby— let's give them a thrill."
Joe gave the cabbie a five dollar bill to wait for them, jumped out of the cab, and opened the door for Bow and Cooper. He led them up the narrow wooden stairs to the small waiting room outside the office. Joe told them to wait there for a minute while he told his boss about their visit. He opened the door and saw Charlie and Shorr bent over the desk discussing profit margins.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I brought you a new customer," Joe said, shutting the door behind him.
"Whadda ya mean, you brought us a new customer? We don't bring customers here, you ignorant immigrant." Shorr stared at Joe angrily.
"I think you'll make an exception for this one." Joe smiled. Charlie looked at Joe's flushed face and bright eyes.
"Who is it, Joey O?" Charlie asked.
"No one but a Miss Clara Bow and Mr. Gary Cooper… saw them getting off the train at the station, and they almost got mobbed to death so I helped them grab a cab. They're in need of some good hooch, so I thought you might like a personal appearance. Seeing as all of her movie characters encourage drinking, dancing, and jazz, she's been awful good for our business, I'd say." Shorr and Charlie stared at Joe, unbelieving. Then Charlie sorta snapped out of it and told him to bring them in.
Clara sashayed into the office followed by Gary Cooper. Her perfect hourglass shape was set off in a tight ivory dress of lace and satin. "How do you do, boys? Thanks for having me. This boy of yours is all right… got us out of a tough spot." Clara walked over to Shorr and put her hand on his forearm. She twinkled her enormous eyes at Shorr, and Joe thought he almost blushed.
"Have a seat, Miss Bow," Shorr said, pulling out a chair. "Mr. Cooper?" he asked. Gary declined, and Joe leaned his back against the wall and laughed to himself as he watched his two tough bosses dance around the room, pulling out glasses and bottles of whisky. Ten minutes later, kisses planted on the cheeks of Shorr and Charlie and Joe carrying a case of whisky labeled as fruit, they headed back down to the cab. Clara Bow had charmed, teased, and flirted with the Sugar House bosses, and Gary Cooper had not appeared the least bit jealous. Perhaps it was an act or the handsome actor was just used to Clara's way with men, or maybe it was the several shots of good whisky warming his belly, but Gary appeared to take no notice of Clara's brazenness.
The bosses gave Clara Canadian Club whisky just the way it came from the distillery. But the Sugar House had begun cutting their liquor at various spots across the city to increase their profits. Only the highest end (and highest paying) customers received the unadulterated whisky.
"See ya, baby," Clara called when Joe dropped them at the front door of the Book-Cadillac Hotel. Clara leaned in the passenger window and gave Joe a big kiss on the cheek. "I'll leave that ticket at will call, Joey O."
The taxi pulled away from the curb into the traffic. Joe could still smell the Chanel No. 5 she'd worn. He fantasized about being with a woman of such great beauty and verve. The cab felt empty now, as if a tornado had sucked the air out of it, and there was the eerie silence that followed all fantastic, violent storms.
***
He ate dinner in silence as his brothers yammered, argued, and fought for his attention. Occasionally he'd nod or grunt, but Frank and Stephan didn't notice that his attention was elsewhere. He ate two fried pork chops, washing down the greasy meat with a large glass of milk, and thanked his mother for the meal. After his brothers were excused from the table to play outside, he stood next to Matka at the sink, drying the dishes she washed.
"Uncle Feliks said he'd be happy to go to Poland to find Anna," he said, wiping a small bowl with the towel.
"Really, Joe? Oh my! I can't believe I'm going to see Anna again." She dropped the dish she'd been washing and hugged him with glee.
"He's leaving on a train in the morning for New York." Joe smiled with pride and then stopped as he looked into Matka's face. Her eyes dimmed as if the sun had passed behind a cloud.
"Why are you upset, Matka?" he asked, as he picked up the shards of the broken dish and threw them in the rubbish bin.
"I'm just surprised that he's leaving in the morning. I would have liked to buy Anna a present and something for your Uncle Feliks's trip. The stores will be closing, and there isn't any time now."
"Sure there is, Matka. I'll run down the street and find a cab to take you to Hudson's. Take this money and find a nice present for Aunt Anna." Deliberately not mentioning Uncle Feliks, who was costing him half of his savings, he held out a fifty-dollar bill.
"Thank you, Joe, but no. I have money saved from my sewing. I'll walk down to Woodward and find a cab myself. Oh dear, I'm such a mess," she said patting at her hair and her simple dress.
"You look beautiful. Hurry now. I'll keep an eye out for the boys and grab a quick shower while you're gone." Matka pulled off her apron, grabbed a small hat to pull over her golden hair, and darted out the door.
After a cool shower, Joe stood in front of the bathroom mirror examining his face. The shave from a few days before appeared to be holding up fine. Apparently his beard hadn't heard that the rest of him was doing the work of a grown man. His shoulders had widened though, and the muscles on his arms and chest were defined and tight from the years of lifting cases out of boats. Joe flexed his biceps several times and laughed at himself. Hair combed back with pompadour oil, cologne applied to all the right areas, and dressed to the nines, he decided that a little facial hair didn't make a difference one way or another. After all, the most beautiful woman in the world had asked to meet him at the theater. Who cares if her boyfriend would be there too?
Joe left for the Fox Theatre when his mother returned from her shopping trip. All smiles and worrying how to wrap her gifts, she sent him out the door without even a question as to his plans. The marquee lights shining from the Fox could be seen from half a mile down the street. An enormous crowd had gathered in front of the majestic theater. Joe worried that Clara might have forgotten to leave a ticket for him. But the ticket agent handed him an envelope containing the ticket and a note from the star.
For Joey O, the real McCoy! Thanks for the giggle water… hope you enjoy the show!
Love, Clara
The note was written in big, loopy letters at the bottom of her picture. Joe carefully rolled up the picture and placed it in his front coat pocket. A dark-skinned man in a sharp red uniform opened the door to the theater and ushered him inside. The lobby was more like a ballroom in a castle than a theater lobby. Gold leaf gleamed from every surface, accented by stones that appeared to Joe to be rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. Dashing men and pretty ladies traversed up and down a great staircase that led to the balconies. The top hats and tall, feathered headbands bobbing through the masses on the heads of the movie goers made it look as if exotic animals were performing a mating ritual.
An usher led Joe to a seat on the left side of the balcony. A great gold lion peered down at the rows of seats from above the stage curtain, and a fift
y-piece orchestra played a lively rendition of "She's Got It," a song inspired by Clara Bow's movie, "It," released earlier that year. The lights dimmed twice, and the young crowd took their seats. The great scarlet curtain slowly opened and Clara Bow appeared, sans Gary Cooper, in the beam of the spotlight. Sparkles of light reflected from the thousands of silver beads that hung from her backless dress, as if she were the origin of all the constellations in the sky. Her fiery red hair had been smoothed and curled, and she looked almost demure as she stood alone on the large stage waiting for the applause to quiet down.
Another spotlight appeared, stage right, and Gary Cooper walked across the stage to join her as the applause roared again. Cooper handed her a massive bouquet of flowers and was rewarded with a big kiss right on the lips. A few rows back, Joe heard a gasp from a woman shocked at such brazen behavior in public. Joe rolled his eyes. What did she expect at a Clara Bow movie? Clara leaned down and said something to the orchestra conductor. He turned to his musicians and waved his baton. They began to play "Gimme a Little Kiss, Will Ya, Huh?" Whispering Jack Smith had recorded the song the year prior, and it had topped the music charts.
A bright light illuminated the aisle, and Joe saw a quartet in candy cane-striped seersucker jackets standing abreast, straw boaters in hand, facing the stage. They harmonized the famous lyrics as they made their way toward the stage.
Gimme a little kiss, will ya, huh?
What are you gonna miss, will ya, huh?
Gosh, oh gee, why do you refuse
I can't see what you've got to lose.
Oh, gimme a little squeeze, will ya, huh?
Why do you wanna make me blue?
I wouldn't say a word if I were asking for the world
But what's a little kiss between a fellow and his girl?
Oh, gimme a little kiss, will ya, huh?
And I'll give it right back to you!"[2]
Clara Bow danced lightly to the serenade. She grabbed Gary Cooper's hand and twirled herself around his towering body. Flashes of skin and beads reflected in the stage lighting, and the crowd applauded loudly, approving of Clara's overpowering sex appeal and lighthearted teasing. Sultry and elegantly feminine, Clara sang a quick verse back to the singing suitors. Joe looked to see where the voice was coming from, for it certainly could not be Clara. In the cab, her Brooklynese had been rough and tough like the gangsters he worked for. This arresting voice was definitely not Clara's, but there she stood, singing and teasing, an exaggerated swing of hips and shoulders tantalizing the already raucous crowd.
Gimme a little coat, will ya, huh?
Sable, or mink or goat Will ya huh?
You know my poor hands are as bare as anything
I could stand a little bracelet maybe a diamond ring
Gimme a little car will ya huh
That would be might nice to do
A Packard or a Lincoln or a Cadillac sedan
Why I'll even take a Rolls and you can add a chauffeur man
But if you give me a little Ford I'll give a kiss right back to you.
The audience stood, clapping, stomping, and whistling as Clara finished the last note, for she had replaced the last line of the lyrics with a crowd-pleasing love-my-Ford reference. The original anti-Detroit lyric—"But don't you give me a little Ford or I'll give it right back to you"—would have offended the many people who relied on Ford for their livelihoods. Clara Bow knew her audience. She wiggled her svelte hips and blew a kiss to the audience, and they continued cheering as she and Gary Cooper took their bows and exited the stage.
The lights dimmed, and the auditorium was dark except for the soft illumination of the ushers' small flashlights as the movie began. Clara Bow appeared as Kitty, a young flapper who tricked her childhood sweetheart into marrying her on a drunken night, at the behest of her avaricious mother, who pressured her to marry for money. The sight of Clara rolling around in a giant bed, her dark, full eyelashes batting at wealthy, despondent Ted Larrabee (Gary Cooper) caused a hot flush of hormones to run through Joe. He looked around to see if anyone could read his thoughts. He blushed at his naivety. Sensing a movement in the alcove walkway near his seat, he peered through the darkness, trying to decipher the situation. His hand reached down to where he had strapped his .38 to his ankle.
Quietly he removed the weapon and placed it under the hem of his sports coat. His neighbors did not notice. Joe looked behind him slowly, wishing he had the eyes of a bat or some other nocturnal creature. Murder attempts were common in theaters, but not in places as crowded as the Fox was tonight. Occasionally a sleeper—a body—would be found when the lights went up and the ushers began sweeping out the rows of seats, the cause of death either strangulation or a stab wound to the back. Theater owners had started installing seats with steel frames to prevent the stabbings, but thugs circumvented them by simply strangling their victims.
The orchestra played on, accompanying Clara's antics on the screen; and the audience shouted out phrases of lust or laughter. But Joe heard nothing other than the beating of his heart. Was it the River Gang? Had they played Charlie, duping him into a false agreement with the intentions of getting revenge on Joe? Or maybe Charlie had duped Joe? It wouldn't be the first time a gangster had lied to one of his own men only to have him knocked off at an unsuspecting moment. Joe saw the movement again and let out a long low sigh. It was only two little boys who must have snuck in and had found an ideal hiding spot to watch the racy movie. On pins and needles now, the magic gone, Joe returned his weapon to its holster and decided to leave the theater.
Glancing at his new Elgin wristwatch he noted he was half an hour late to meet Charlie at the speakeasy. He rushed out the shiny brass doors of the theater and looked down at his watch again. Thump! His shoulder slammed into a gentleman who'd been waiting for a cab outside.
"I'm so sorry, sir; I was looking down" Joe began apologizing, "Hey! You're Ty Cobb! Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Cobb." The tall lanky man brushed off the shoulder of his suit coat and looked down at Joe.
"What are you in such a hurry for?" Cobb drawled. "Fire in the theater?" he joked. Joe was so relieved his hero wasn't angry with him.
"No sir—just late to a meeting is all. Mr. Cobb? I'd just like to say that I saw you at the game when you broke the record for the most stolen bases. You were terrific!"
"Thanks, young man. But I never run that fast on the sidewalks, so I'd suggest slowing down off the baseball diamond." Cobb tuned to hail a cab. Joe thought quickly.
"Mr. Cobb? Would you mind signing an autograph for me? Please?"
"Sure. You have any paper?" Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture Clara had left for him at the will-call booth.
"Will this do?" he asked.
"The real McCoy, huh? Seems like you have friends in high places." He signed the back of the photograph. "Goodnight, McCoy." Then he got into his cab and drove off.
Chapter Thirty Three
Hailing a cab was difficult on a Friday night, and it was more than fifteen minutes before one finally pulled to the curb. Joe hoped the surprise visit by Bow and Cooper at the Sugar House would provide a small leeway for his tardiness. His thoughts drifted to the sight of Clara's silky white thigh he'd glimpsed in the back seat of the cab earlier that day.
The cabbie roared to a stop at 121 Davenport. Joe paid the fare and got out. The smell of cigar smoke wafted through the air, creating a foggy atmosphere inside the Powhatan Club. The bar was nearly empty. Most patrons didn't arrive until after midnight. Joe easily found Charlie sitting at the end of the bar. A fine, expensive hat sat next to a full beer on the wooden bar. Joe placed his hat next to Charlie's and took a seat.
"Ah, Joey O… here ya are? Beer?" he asked, signaling to the barkeep.
"I think I could use something a little stronger, Charlie," Joe replied, feathers still ruffled at the thought of the River Gang possibly tracking him. Charlie looked at Joe out the side of his eye, concerned.
"Everything Jake?" he asked.
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"Sure, sure Charlie… just been a long day is all. Oh, I spoke to my uncle, and I'll have the dough for you tomorrow morning before Cappie and I set off for Wyandotte."
"Good, good. Hey Wes, set my boy up with some of that ten year Canadian Club. He's been out courting celebrities all day. She wear you out, Joe?"
The barkeep set two fingers of whisky in front of Joe.
Joe took a slow sip and set the glass back down. "Like I can compete with Gary Cooper! Nah, I got the heebie-jeebies at the theater, and I started thinking about those damn dagos. You sure everything's on the level with them?" Joe didn't like to ask questions, but he didn't like to imagine the feel of a cold blade on his throat either.
"Doncha worry about them dagos, Joe. Just relax and let's have some fun. I got Art Mooney's Rhythm Kings coming in to play tonight, and I wanna have a good time. Drinks are on me tonight. Least I can do after you helped get that hijacked load back and introduce me to the 'It' girl. Hot damn, does that doll got some gams! Tell me again how you came about having her in your cab." Joe related the story to Charlie and then again as he was introduced to several more men by his boss. A dopey looking fellow named Harry, with wiry black hair, challenged his tale, saying Joe was making it up. Eyes squinted against the smoke, Joe replied he was telling the truth so help him God. Harry laughed and said God who? Charlie stepped in to back Joe, and the situation deescalated. Feeling foolish that he'd let the thug get to him so easily, Joe switched back to beer and ordered some dinner.
The band came in around midnight and set up at the end of the small dance floor. The smoke grew thicker, mixing with the smells of perfume and baby powder in the air. Did every girl who wanted to be a flapper have to wear Chanel No. 5? Joe's one lung felt like it was working overtime in the hazy atmosphere. Money flew over the bar, and beer and whisky poured back out like Niagara Falls. Joe was a little tipsy and was thankful he'd had the sense to eat a good meal. Cappie joined the group just as the band began to play, and Charlie made Joe retell yet again the train station Clara Bow story. The men grew louder and more boisterous and were joined by several ladies who noticed the large amount of cash the group was throwing about.
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