by June Tate
Foxy Gordon was elated. This show was going to be an enormous hit! Each number showing New York City and all its glory and downsides was an amazing conception.
There was a specialty number featuring Bonny, showing the back streets, the tenements, the poor side of the great city. It told the tale of unrequited love – Bonny and one of the boys dancing out the tale as a tenor sang about it, whilst sitting on one of the fire hydrants in a street filled with litter. It was touching, romantic and poignant.
By contrast, the next scene was in a night club on Broadway with a jazz band, well-heeled patrons and some great tap-dancing by the full chorus, which was full of razzle dazzle – led by Bonny.
Rob Andrews had slipped into the seat next to Giles just after the opening. He could do no more at this stage except watch for any weakness that he could rectify before opening night. His nerves were at breaking point as he sat and watched, making notes as he did so, before changing for his own contribution with Bonny.
Backstage was a bustle of activity as the performers changed in readiness for the next number, all hoping and praying that nothing would go wrong.
In-between the numbers that the dancers performed, giving them time to change, came the quieter moments. A Negro baritone, seen walking alone along the dockside, singing a ballad about his working life, dressed as a labourer. Another of a waitress, working in a diner, longing to be on the stage. It showed all manner of life, and hopes and dreams of those living in the city. It was truly a story to be told, from beginning to end.
There was just one number with Rob and Bonny doing their Astaire–Rogers dance, and Giles thought it was more than enough. He wanted this to be a showcase for Bonny Burton alone, and my God, hadn’t she shown him today that she had been made of the star quality he had visualized! She was really something special.
The final curtain fell and the backers sitting in the stalls rose to their feet and applauded. None louder than Foxy Gordon. As the curtain was lifted, Giles Gilmore walked down the aisle to address the cast who waited with bated breath to hear his observations.
‘Well, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for a wonderful show.’ He beamed at them all. ‘Apart from one or two minor things, which Rob and I will discuss later, I thought this was exceptional for the first dress rehearsal. Well done! Now go and get some rest.’ He turned to face his backers and invited them to follow him to his office to drink champagne, to toast what he considered was going to be a huge hit.
Foxy held back and was the last person to enter the room. Giles was pouring champagne into glasses and handing them out. As he looked up to give out the last one he met the gaze of Foxy Gordon. He smiled, but his eyes narrowed. ‘Mr Gordon, I had no idea you’d be here.’
With a slow smile, Foxy said, ‘I’m James Harcourt, one of your major backers.’ He saw Gilmore pale.
‘Indeed you are.’ The impresario maintained his composure. ‘But why the nom de plume? Did you think that was necessary?’
‘Oh come on, Giles, don’t play games with me. You know damned well you would never have accepted my money, had you known my true identity’.
The gloves were now indeed off. ‘You’re quite right, of course. I would have wondered at your motivation and I’m sure you do have one.’
Foxy glared at him. ‘Five years is my motivation, Giles. The time I spent in prison when you took me and the others to court. I’m going to ruin you, Gilmore, one way or another. They call it revenge!’ Gordon drank his champagne and walked out of the room.
Giles was visibly shaken, but before he could move, the other smaller investors crowded round him to talk about the show.
Foxy Gordon walked to the nearest bar and ordered a large scotch on the rocks. He sat quietly and contemplated the meeting, which had given him great satisfaction. The shocked expression on Gilmore’s face had been a sight to behold. But now the promoter was in a dilemma. The show would be a tremendous hit, of that there was no doubt, and he was in a position to make a lot of money, especially if it ran for any length of time, so he didn’t want to do anything to spoil that. He would have to think of some other way to get at the impresario. He needed time to think. He was a patient man; after all, he’d already waited some years. As long as he achieved his goal eventually, what did time matter? Meantime, Giles Gilmore could sweat it out.
That was exactly what Giles was doing, when eventually he was alone. He was livid! Imagine that bloody Gordon owned forty per cent of his new production! That was far too much power in the wrong hands. The threat from the man to ruin him played on his mind. How would he go about doing that? He really was worried. He knew the promoter too well; it had not been an idle threat. Just when he was about to reach the pinnacle of his theatrical career – it was in jeopardy and in the hands of an unscrupulous man …
Eighteen
It was a week before opening night and the cast had been given a much needed day of rest on the Sunday. Bonny would have liked to have seen her parents but she was so tired. Mickey had suggested they book into their secret hotel, stay in their room all day, away from everyone – and do nothing. Meals could be sent up and this would give Bonny the chance to recharge her batteries, ready for the last week of rehearsals.
‘You can’t burn out now, darlin’, you need every bit of strength to sustain you at this point. I know about peaking too soon.’
She snuggled into him. ‘What would I do without you, darling Mickey?’
‘You’ll never have to find that out, princess, because I intend to be around for the rest of your life.’
She gazed into his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You and I are meant for each other, you must know that? Sometime in the future I’m going to marry you, care for you and love you – until death us do part.’
‘Oh, Mickey, I would really like that.’
‘I’m so glad you agree,’ he said and reached into his pocket, taking out a small box. He removed a diamond ring with three large stones set in platinum and slipped it on her finger. ‘I guess that makes it official,’ he said as he kissed her.
As he released her, Bonny held out her hand and looked at the ring, glistening in the sunlight. ‘The reporters will spot this in a second,’ she said. ‘It’s beautiful; they can hardly miss it, can they?’
‘I had thought about that,’ he said. ‘I suggest that we keep this to ourselves for a while. You need all the publicity to be about your performance in the show, not about us, so I suggest you only wear it in private.’ He kissed her gently. ‘We will know when we can make it public knowledge. But today we can have our own private celebration.’
He booked a room and they drove to the hotel, Mickey parking his car at the back, out of sight, away from prying eyes – as he thought.
Observing every movement that the couple made were two of Wally Cole’s heavies. He was well aware of their secret rendezvous, having kept tabs on both of them for the past weeks. The criminal was now obsessed with a way to ruin Foxy Gordon’s chance of cashing in on his investment. How he was going to do this, he hadn’t yet decided, but he knew that Foxy’s main assets – the man and the show – were with these two people and he needed to know their every move.
Unaware that they were being watched, Mickey and Bonny enjoyed a light lunch together in their room, went to bed and made love, before sleeping all the afternoon, entwined in each other’s arms. In the evening, they talked about their future and made plans.
‘We need to live in London or nearby,’ Mickey insisted, ‘then you’ll be near enough to the theatres for your future shows.’
‘You seem pretty sure I’ll have such a future,’ Bonny said with a note of uncertainty in her voice.
He gathered her into his arms and chuckled. ‘You are an amazing woman, you know. You are the only one who has any doubts. One of the most endearing things about you, princess, is that you have no idea just how talented you are. I love that.’
‘And what about you, Mickey? How much longer do you have a career in the r
ing? I hate to see you get hurt when you face an opponent. How much longer can you keep taking such punishment?’
He grinned at her. ‘You worried that I may lose my good looks, darlin’?’
‘Don’t be silly! It’s the constant blows to the head that worry me the most.’
‘Listen, Bonny, I’m a good boxer and know how to ride such things, and as long as I’m fit, I’ll keep defending my title. However, I’m not a fool. I’m well aware that any boxer has a limited time at the top, and one day someone will be better than me – that’s when I’ll quit.’ He saw her worried frown. ‘I’ve taken care of my winnings, I’ve enough for a nice home and to finance some sort of business when the time comes. Don’t you worry, we’ll be fine.’
Rob Andrews, unaware of how serious the relationship between his star and Mickey O’Halleran had become, was watching Bonny rehearse a spectacular finale dance routine with the male members of the chorus. The backdrop was of one of the New York piers with a liner in dock. The men were dressed as ship’s stewards, helping the longshoremen load the last of the luggage on-board. Bonny was dressed as one of the passengers, who had arrived late.
The dance was very tricky and physical, with Bonny dancing among and on various types of luggage and being lifted by different male dancers as she traversed the length of the dock to the gangway.
Passengers were lining the rails of the ship, streamers were floating in the air with the aid of a wind machine and there was a roar from the funnel indicating that it was almost time to sail. Eventually, the number ended with Bonny dancing up the gangway on to the deck, climbing on to the rail as the gangway was retrieved, ropes let go and the ship starting to sail as the curtain fell. She did it faultlessly and Rob was delighted. It had been a difficult number to pull together with all the mechanics involved to move the depicted liner just a few feet, and he knew that with the tremendous scenery, which brought the whole thing to life, it was a show-stopper.
He ran up the steps at the side of the stage as the curtains reopened. ‘Well done, everybody, that was great! Take a lunch break and be back in an hour. Bonny, can I have a word?’
She walked over to him. ‘What is it?’ she asked with a look of concern.
‘Come with me, we can have lunch together in my office.’
She followed him and saw that he had arranged sandwiches and fruit for the two of them, which was all laid out on his desk.
‘Sit down, Bonny, and tuck in. After all the work you’ve done this morning, you must be famished.’
‘I’m actually starving,’ she admitted as she helped herself.
He gazed fondly at her. What an amazing transition it had been for this girl, from the chorus in a Southampton theatre, to this starring role in a West End musical. How proud he was of her achievements. They were very alike in many ways, he mused. Both of their lives were driven by their love of the dance and the theatre. What a strong team they were, both being on the same wavelength.
Looking up, Bonny caught sight of his expression. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘I was just thinking how far you had come from when I first auditioned you. It’s been a pleasure to watch you grow.’
‘I owe a lot to you, Rob, I’ll never forget that.’
‘How about the two of us going out to dinner tonight to celebrate and drink to the success of Broadway Melody?’ he suggested.
How could she refuse? She felt obliged. After all, without Rob she wouldn’t be here today. ‘Thank you, I’d like that.’
During their dinner, in a small but exclusive restaurant, the two of them discussed the show and the various numbers, the production, the dancers, both full of enthusiasm for their shared craft.
‘You really are a talented choreographer,’ she told him. ‘Every number on that stage is inspired. I don’t know where you get your ideas from.’
He smiled benignly at her. ‘You being the lead was inspirational. We make a great team, you and I.’
There was something in his voice that suddenly made Bonny aware that perhaps this wasn’t just a dinner with a colleague and she answered carefully. ‘That’s very nice of you to say so, Rob, but your reputation was made before you ever met me.’
He leaned forward and took her hand. ‘This is true, but you are special, Bonny. With you as my lead I can go beyond what I’ve done before, knowing that you are capable of delivering. You are a choreographer’s dream. I’ve never met a woman before who thinks along the same lines as I do, who understands what is required without bleating about the hard work involved. We have a great future together.’
She slowly withdrew her hand from his grasp. ‘I just thought that getting on with the job, was being professional, that’s all. You know, as Mickey says, it comes with the territory.’
The name of the boxer, brought into their conversation, seemed to act like ice down Rob Andrews’s back and his expression changed, his voice became harsh. ‘He can’t possibly understand our world.’
‘Don’t be silly, Rob, of course he does. After all, Mickey is in the entertainment business too.’
‘Then he will understand that when the show opens, you’ll have very little time to see him – if at all!’
The atmosphere between them had changed. Bonny was now immediately defensive. ‘As long as I perform on the stage and do my job, my private life is just that! Private! I will see Mickey O’Halleran whenever I choose and it has not a damn thing to do with you.’ She rose from her seat. ‘Thank you for a lovely meal, but now I must go. I’ll see you tomorrow in the theatre.’
‘Wait, I’ll see you home,’ he started to say, but Bonny was already heading for the door, and after he’d paid the bill and rushed to the exit – she’d gone.
‘Damn!’ he swore to himself. That wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind for the evening. Pulling up the collar of his coat, he strode off into the night.
Sitting in the back of a taxi, Bonny’s mind was in turmoil. Despite the fact that her friend Shirley had always maintained that Rob had more than a professional interest in her, Bonny had never for one moment believed her – until this evening – and it was an unwelcome situation. She admired Rob Andrews and recognized his amazing talent. She felt privileged to be part of the show he’d put together and loved dancing with him as her partner. Both here, and back in Southampton, there had been a special feeling of closeness between them. For her it was purely professional, but obviously not for him. Was this going to be a problem? She sincerely hoped not because their association would continue throughout the run of the production. Any animosity between them could have an adverse affect, if it grew. She would have to make sure that it didn’t.
Bonny’s problem was minor in comparison with the one that was now facing Wally Cole. There was a new criminal gang, led by a young man with big ambitions, trying to muscle in on Wally’s territory. He remembered mentioning this to Foxy Gordon in friendlier times. Wally had thought he’d taken care of the problem by removing a couple of the gang, but Gerry Pike, twenty-nine, son of an old lag, was out to prove himself better than his father. With the arrogance of youth and cunning of a criminal, he’d pulled off a couple of audacious bank robberies on Wally’s patch, which infuriated the gang leader, and he needed a plan to rid himself of this unwelcome intruder. He summoned his men.
‘I want to know the name of every man in this organization. I want to know everything about them. Where they live, who their parents are, if they have siblings and who they are sleeping with. There must be a weak link among them somewhere. Find him! We can use this person to our advantage.’ He turned to his head man. ‘You watch young Gerry. He must have an Achilles heel and I want you to find it. I want to know who he sees, where he goes, even where he takes a piss, because I’m not going to let some snotty nosed newcomer take over my patch. Understand?’
There was angry muttering from the others. After all, they all lived the high life through their criminal activities. Fear of the Firm was to all their advantage, and any sign of weakness would lo
se them any respect from the underworld.
Apart from all this, Wally had a plan. He had discovered that Giles Gilmore paid his cast and crew every Friday night, after drawing a large amount of money from the bank, which he carried to the theatre in a large briefcase. He planned to rob him of this money and lay the blame at Gerry Pike’s door, thereby killing two birds with one stone. His old ally Foxy Gordon would not be pleased because it would be a great loss to the finances of the production, and Wally had discovered that Gilmore was having to be very careful with every penny to bring the production to the stage. Wally had recently managed to place a man working in the theatre as an engineer, who was in a good position, if required, to cause problems with the many mechanical devices used in the different scenes. In particular, the scene where the liner seemed to begin to sail away A clever piece of stage management, but very complicated to accomplish.
He sat back in his chair and lit a cigarette. He’d been around far too long to let a young shaver put him out of business. Gerry Pike was not the first one to have tried and he wouldn’t be the last. But Wally certainly wasn’t ready to retire. Why should he? He was doing well. He had his illegal gambling meetings, which moved from house to house so as not to be caught. He was in the protection racket, which brought in a good turnover, apart from everything else. He was sitting pretty. He smiled to himself. He would love to see Foxy’s face after he’d lifted the wages from Giles Gilmore. That, he would pay money for. He started laughing.
Nineteen
Gerry Pike was sitting in the corner of the Red Lion, his local pub in the East End docks, feeling very pleased with himself. He’d pulled off two heists in Wally Cole’s patch and the money was stashed away in a secret hideaway. It had been a good haul and he had already laid plans to launder the money. Yes, he was sitting pretty at the moment. He was no fool, he knew that Wally would be out for his blood, but he was young and full of ideas. Cole had been around too long, lording it over the underworld. It was time for a change.
