Vamps, Villains and Vaudeville

by Ellen Mansoor Collier

  Frank sat down on Dino’s usual bar stool as if to steady himself. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Where’s Dino?” I looked around for the baby grand.

  “He’s out back.” Frank swallowed, then studied Burton. “I know you’re a good egg and all, so I hope you don’t blab to your cop buddies. Believe me, we had nothing to do with this mess.”

  Burton crossed his arms. “What happened?”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Frank slid open the slot. “We’re closed for the night. Come back tomorrow.” Since when did he turn away business on a Friday night?

  “I’ll make it quick.” Frank started rubbing his hands back and forth on his pants, a nervous habit. “Two jokers had a few drinks, and started shouting and shoving each other. I called Dino and asked him to break up the fight. ‘Take it outside,’ he told them, but they didn’t listen. So he grabbed each one by the collar and gave them the bum’s rush out the back door.”

  “Were the Beach and Downtown gangs fighting again?” A familiar scenario.

  Frank shook his head. “No one I recognized.”

  “Sounds like you took care of them.” Burton raised his brows. “So what’s the matter?”

  “I’d better show you.” Frank stood up unsteadily, and held onto my arm as we walked upstairs. Outside, the November night felt chilly, and I wrapped my velvet coat tighter. A half-moon cast a pale light on the narrow alley.

  My breath caught when I saw Dino leaning over a figure sprawled at an awkward angle. Oh no.

  I held back, not wanting to believe anything was wrong, especially with Sammy so far away in Houston.

  Slowly I edged closer and stopped, staring in shock: A handsome young man lay in the alley, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath, dark blood staining his shirt and trousers. His delicate features looked ghostly, even angelic, in the faint moonlight.

  “What were you saps thinking, leaving a man half-dead behind your bar?” Burton demanded. “For God’s sakes, why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

  I wanted to reach out and comfort the poor fella, ease his suffering. “How is he?”

  “Barely alive.” Burton knelt by the victim and examined his wound. “Seems he was stabbed in the abdomen and lost a lot of blood. Any idea who did this?”

  “Beats me,” Dino said. Frank looked around, as if lost.

  “Where’s the knife?” Burton asked. They both shrugged in reply. “What were you going to do, let him bleed out in the alley? We’re taking him to the hospital.” He searched the victim for ID, patting down his pockets.

  “I’ll carry the guy, but that’s as far as I go,” Dino grumbled. “Count me out.”

  “What a sport,” Burton snapped. “Can you bring a blanket to cover him up? His body’s getting cold. Besides, there’s a lady present.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just help him.” I stood there, transfixed, studying the stranger’s face in the faint light.

  “I’ll drive,” Frank offered. “My car is parked here in the alley. It’s the least I can do.”

  “I’ll say.” Burton frowned. “I’ll follow behind.”

  Dino returned, holding out a blanket like a dirty diaper. Down the alley, a door opened and a cook came out with a trash bag, stopping to stare with obvious interest. I grabbed the blanket from Dino, shaking it like a matador, to block the view. Finally he retreated to his bar. What a Nosy Ned!

  “You have no idea who he is or what he was doing here?” Burton repeated as he attempted to pick up the victim, waiting for Frank and Dino to help.

  “We didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries before Dino gave them the boot,” Frank said. “Friday nights are always full. Pay day, you know.” As usual, Dino remained mute.

  I spread out the blanket on the back seat, glad that Frank didn’t care about appearances or even ruining his car. Or did he? Sammy might think twice before he risked getting his pricey Roadster bloody, even to save a life.

  Reluctantly, Dino lifted the man under his arms, Frank held his middle and Burton picked up his legs. Slowly the trio carried him out to Frank’s car while I held the door open. “Careful,” Burton warned. “Let’s sit him up so he won’t lose any more blood.”

  Drops of blood left a trail of bright red splotches in the alley. “You’ll need to wash that off right away.” I cringed. “Don’t make Buzz clean it up.”

  “Why don’t you do it?” Dino scowled at me.

  “Fix your own mess.” I glared right back.

  After they placed the victim upright in the car, I tucked the blanket around him, careful not to touch his open wound. “I’m coming, too,” I said, my eyes misting.

  “You don’t need to go,” Frank said. “I can take care of things.” His voice was husky with emotion.

  “Look what happened last time,” I reminded Frank. “I never saw Horace again.”

  Burton patted the seat by him. “You can ride with me.”

  I stuck my head in Frank’s car to make sure the victim was still breathing. Suddenly his hand shot out, clasping my wrist, blue eyes popping open for a brief moment.

  “Viola,” he whispered before drifting off. “Viola.”

  ******

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Viola?” I squeezed the young man’s arm. “Who’s Viola?” Did he mistake me for her? But he’d already slumped over in the back seat, apparently unconscious.

  I shook Burton’s shoulder. “Did you hear? The guy said ‘Viola’ before he passed out. Think it’s his girlfriend? He’s not wearing a wedding ring, so I doubt he’s married.”

  “Viola? Who knows? At least it gives us a lead.” Burton started the car as I got in, not bothering to open the door for me, signaling for Frank to go ahead. “What else did those knuckleheads tell you, if anything?”

  “Not much. Frank said the victim got into an argument with a fella so Dino kicked them out. Maybe Buzz or Bernie saw what happened. Want me to ask?”

  “Later, after I file a report. Let’s see if this poor sap even makes it to the hospital.”

  I sucked in my breath. “Was it that bad?”

  “I’m no doctor, but he’s lost a lot of blood. His youth could be his saving grace.”

  “I hope so. What if he dies?” I voiced my worst fears. “Will you have to involve Dino or Frank—or Sammy?”

  “Depends. The cops need to investigate either way.” Burton slowed to a stop in front of John Sealy Hospital. “Sorry, Jazz, I’m afraid you’ll have to cancel your trip to Houston.”

  Peachy. How would I tell Sammy? Or break the news to Amanda? One more lousy problem, one more helpless victim to rescue. Of course I felt for the fella, but why’d this happen now?

  Burton raced into the hospital entrance. “We need a stretcher. Hurry, it’s an emergency!”

  Two orderlies followed Burton outside to Frank’s car and gently placed the man on the stretcher and took him in. Frank waited two whole minutes before he raced off, tires squealing.

  As the orderlies carried the dying man out of the room, a stout nurse appeared with a clipboard, her pencil poised. “You brought in the stabbing victim? We’ll need to take down his information. Are you a friend or family member?”

  “Neither.” Burton avoided her piercing gaze.

  The nurse gave me the once-over. “How about you, miss? Girlfriend? Sister?”

  “Neither,” I repeated, looking away.

  She let out an impatient snort. “Well, what’s his name? Address? Doesn’t he have a place of residence?”

  “I don’t know him. We...I...found him in an alley on Market Street,” Burton admitted.

  “Oh, really? And what were you two high-steppers doing slumming on Market Street?”

  Why was it any of her beeswax? I held my breath, hoping Burton wouldn’t mention the Oasis or anyone by name. He squared his shoulders, and pulled out his badge. “Raiding the gin joints. Doing my job. What else?”

  “You don’t say.” She acted as if he’d pulled out a ten-cent tin sheriff’s b
adge from Woolworth’s five-and-dime.

  Didn’t she recognize Agent Burton from the papers? Where had she been living, under a sand dune?

  She placed her hands on her ample hips, clipboard and all. “And I suppose you picked up this tart while you were making the rounds.”

  “Excuse me?” My cheeks flamed, and I faced her, crossing my arms. “Who are you calling a tart? We’re being good Samaritans, trying to save a stranger’s life, and you’re giving us the third-degree? This is a police matter and frankly, it’s none of your business.”

  The nurse blushed and her mouth opened like a gaping fish, then clamped shut.

  Burton’s face reddened. Did my outburst embarrass him?

  “I’m afraid he’s a John Doe for now. I’ll try to question him in the morning. Our detectives may stop by later.”

  I glowered at the nurse, glancing at her name tag. “What’s your name? Mrs. O’Hara?”

  Her face softened, just a tad. “Yes. Let me know if I can be of further assistance.”

  So far she’d been a hindrance without giving any assistance. To be polite, Burton tipped his hat. “Try to take good care of this young man. Good night, ma’am. We’ll be in touch soon.”

  Ma’am? She didn’t deserve to be called ma’am. In Burton’s Roadster, I snapped, “Boy, what a bossy old biddy she was.”

  “True, but you don’t want to antagonize her,” he said. “We may need her help later.”

  “Antagonize her? She acted like we were the suspects.”

  “Gotta admit, our story sounds a bit fishy. A well-heeled couple comes in out of the blue with an unidentified bloody body? I don’t blame her for being suspicious.”

  A couple? I was momentarily distracted by how easily that rolled off his tongue.

  “Thanks for not mentioning the Oasis,” I told Burton with gratitude. “I don’t want to get Frank or Dino in any hot water.”

  “Do you believe their story?” He studied me in the dark. “Those two jokers have been known to panic before, act on impulse.”

  I mulled it over, thinking about a few unfortunate incidents. “Right, but why’d they call if they were guilty?”

  “They didn’t know I’d come along tonight. And it was easier to call you than spill the beans to Sammy. If they even tried to call him. Do they know you’re his half-sister?”

  I shook my head. “They may suspect that we’re related or have a past history, that’s all. I doubt they’d try to stab the poor guy ‘cause of a ruckus in the bar. They’re used to gang fights by now.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.” Burton stared straight ahead. “I’d hate to shut down the Oasis while Sammy is away.”

  ******

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Not the same old tune. “You must be kidding,” I told Agent Burton. “Why punish Sammy? I thought you were friends, especially after all you’ve done to help him...”

  “Hey, this isn’t my department. But if word gets out there was a stabbing at the Oasis...”

  “A couple of drunks got into a fight in an alley, not at the Oasis,” I pointed out. “There’s no proof that Frank or Dino were involved. Why drag Sammy into this?”

  “Sorry, Jazz.” Burton pulled up to the boarding house, shifting to face me, acting apologetic. “I’m trying to be fair. I can’t give you or Sammy special treatment.”

  “Special treatment? I only want you to do what’s right. Please don’t jump to conclusions until we get all the facts straight, OK?”

  “Facts? Isn’t that your area of expertise?” He grinned at me in the dark, his teeth glowing under the Victorian street lamps. “I’ll go see the victim tomorrow and try to get a few answers. I advise you to stay in town and postpone your trip to Houston.”

  “Yes, sir.” I jumped out of the car, and leaned over the window. “Don’t bother walking me to the door, Agent Burton. I don’t need any special treatment.”

  With that, I tossed my curls and stormed off down the walkway, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder. Sure, I realized I was being immature, but he knew how much I cared about my only brother. Sammy certainly didn’t needed more cops sniffing around his bar, especially while he was away in Houston.

  Amanda and Eva rushed out of the parlor. “What happened?”

  I gave them the short-hand version. “Sad to say, a young fella was stabbed outside the Oasis so we drove him to the hospital. I’ll find out more after Burton interviews the victim tomorrow.”

  Eva looked relieved. “At least he’s still alive.”

  “Unfortunately, Burton told me to stay in town for now.” I gave Amanda a sad smile. “He actually threatened to shut down the Oasis, if necessary.”

  “Oh no!” Her face fell. “We can’t go see Sammy in Houston?”

  I hated to disappoint her. Still, we couldn’t do much to help Sammy if we left town.

  “Looks that way. Maybe we can visit Sammy over the holidays?”

  Amanda brightened a moment, considering that idea. “That’d be swell. As long as he’s safe.”

  I stifled a yawn. “It’s been a long day. I have to get up early to write my review. Good night, girls.”

  But I couldn’t fall asleep, worried about the handsome victim, wondering about Sammy. Would our John Doe make it overnight? Worse, if he died, who would be blamed—Sammy?

  Saturday

  Saturday morning, I tiptoed out the door before eight, hoping to get my review into the Galveston Gazette in time to make the Sunday paper. Half-asleep, I boarded the trolley to work, the cool breeze and clanging noise jolting me awake. Who needed coffee when a bouncing, jerky, squeaky trolley car did the trick?

  Only a handful of reporters peppered the newsroom, hunched over their typewriters, in worse shape than I felt. I stifled a smile when I heard Mack, our senior star reporter, snoring over his Smith-Corona. My boss rarely made an appearance on weekends, saying she needed her sanity—and her beauty sleep. Still, she promised to look over my review in time for the deadline.

  I pulled out my notes from last night’s performance, glad for the diversion. No, the show wasn’t for everyone, especially the highbrow, high-hat crowd, but I enjoyed the humor, the variety, the parodies.

  I’d especially laughed out loud at a few amusing animal acts and their antics. And finally there was the dastardly villain who seemed more sincere than sinister. Why had he stared at me so intently?

  I was pounding out a rough draft on my noisy Noiseless Remington Rand typewriter when Nathan stopped by my desk, carrying his trusty camera.

  “Hey, toots, I thought you’d be home packing now. Ready for our grand adventure?”

  Ratz! I’d forgotten to mention the delay to Nathan, who was eager to see Holly, Miss Houston, his fizzled flame from the International Pageant of Pulchritude this past summer.

  “Sorry to say, we need to postpone our trip to Houston.”

  His face fell. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Change of plans.” I stalled, clamming up in front of the nosy news hawks. A stabbing would make their day—and the front page.

  “Did Amanda and Sammy break up—again?”

  “Not this time.” Tell the truth, I suspected Sammy already had a squeeze or two in Houston. Whenever we caught him flirting, he’d say: “Can I help it if the dames throw themselves at me?” No joke: Sammy’s dark good looks attracted women like winos to a speakeasy.

  Our cub reporters swiveled around in their banker chairs, alert as guard dogs. Even Mack perked up, pretending not to eavesdrop, but I saw his fingers tapping the desk, hoping for a scoop.

  I motioned for Nathan to meet me in the break room, littered with coffee cups, cigarettes and newspapers, and reeking of smoke. The news hounds expected us gals to keep it clean, but I refused to be their—or anyone’s—personal maid.

  Inside, I told Nathan, “Frank called me about an emergency at the Oasis last night. Burton and I went down there after the show, and...” Nervous, I stuck my head out, before I continued...“we found a young man
stabbed in the alley.”

  “Was he dead?” Nathan’s eyes grew big as plates. “Did Dino or Frank kill him?”

  “No! Besides, the victim is still alive.” Why did everyone suspect those two? Didn’t they have Sammy’s best interests at heart?

  After I described the situation in more detail, he shook his head. “Poor Sammy. I always thought his place was jinxed.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder,” I agreed. “You’re not disappointed about cancelling our trip to Houston? You can still go see Holly without me and Amanda tagging along. Less baggage.”

  Nathan stared at the worn wood floor. “To be honest, I’m relieved. I wasn’t sure if my old Tin Lizzie would make the round-trip. Between us, I doubt Holly cares if I visit her or not. I don’t want to be her umbrella, an old stand-by she takes for granted. A looker like Holly probably has men vying for her affections all the time.”

  I hated to admit, he was probably right. Nathan was cute in a Tom Sawyer kind of way, but perhaps a bit home-grown for such an adventurous, worldly gal like Holly.

  “Give her time, Nate. She’s not the type to settle down and get married—not yet. Keep in touch and see what happens. Why not play the field yourself?”

  Once again, I felt compelled to offer unasked-for advice to my friends when I was in no position to dish out suggestions for the lovelorn. Who did I think I was—an agony columnist?

  The minute Burton and I got closer, I always managed to sabotage our relationship. Two steps forward, four steps back.

  I expected Nathan to tell me to jump in the lake, but instead he seemed grateful. “Thanks, Jazz. Maybe we can postpone the trip a few weeks. I’ll tell Holly that I got tied up, make her think I’m too busy to see her. Let’s hope absence does make the heart grow fonder.”