Vamps, Villains and Vaudeville

by Ellen Mansoor Collier

  “I can’t prove it...yet.” Derek frowned. “Everyone knows vaudeville is as outdated as Confederate bills. Draper encourages the musicians to moonlight on the side, usually at luxury hotels, private parties, country clubs. The troupe is so desperate to keep their jobs, they go along with his get-rich-quick scheme. He even allows them to keep one piece of jewelry as a reward.”

  “Only one piece?” I pondered that a moment. “Maybe he wants to hold onto the jewelry as evidence, to lord it over their heads.”

  “You might be right. And stupid me thought he was being generous.” He snorted. “Naturally Draper’s greedy paws never get near the stolen goods. No fingerprints, no proof. If anyone ever gets caught, he can just blame them. Still, they’re very careful not to leave a trail.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “What will you do, now that you know?”

  “Patrick and I were onto Draper’s tricks, and vowed to expose him as a fraud. But I can’t do much until I get evidence. I’m hoping someone will lend me a stolen gem or two to show the authorities.”

  “Derek, isn’t that risky? What if Draper finds out what you plan to do?”

  “Why do you think I was arrested? He’s giving me a warning: Join us or get out. Patrick and I wanted to reveal his scheme, but we didn’t know how—or whom to trust.”

  I mulled it over, watching Golliwogg chase pigeons across the park. “Obviously Milo must be working with Draper. Is it possible Milo got so mad, he stabbed Patrick in the alley?”

  “Milo? He may be a crook and a cheat, but he’s not violent,” Derek said. “Besides, Patrick would have told us after he snuck out of the hospital.”

  “Any idea who Patrick was meeting? If we find him, we may have our killer.”

  Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Have you heard of a gang leader called George Musey? Patrick was supposed to hand over the jewelry to Musey’s middleman.”

  “George Musey?” I was floored. “What does he have to do with this vaudeville show?”

  “Keep this hush-hush, OK?” Derek moved closer to me on the bench. “Draper was desperate for cash to open his show here. When the banks turned him down, I heard he contacted both Musey and Sam Maceo. The Maceos weren’t interested, but Musey wanted to make a deal. Cash for jewelry, he insisted. The real McCoy, not costume.”

  “Is this on the level?” I asked, skeptical. “How do you know so much?”

  “Patrick filled me in, before...” He wiped off his lap, crumbs sprinkling on the grass for the eager pigeons. “Like you, I have my sources. I’d rather not reveal them for their own safety.”

  “Be careful, Derek. If Draper thinks you’re a threat, no telling what he can do to you.”

  “I’m not afraid of Draper. That bastard shouldn’t treat people like puppets, manipulating them to do his dirty deeds. He thinks he owns everyone and everything in the vaudeville show.”

  I admit, I liked this new, more mature Derek. Instead of a narcissist craving the spotlight, now I saw him as a risk-taker, a crusader—like Nellie Bly. A Robin Hood of the theatre, righting backstage wrongs.

  Suddenly I began to view Derek in a different light, with renewed interest. To me, he seemed exciting, even attractive again—no longer a self-absorbed lothario waiting for his big break.

  What was wrong with me? Why was I even considering the possibility of dating Derek again?

  As if reading my thoughts, Derek gave me a faint smile. “Are you worried about me?”

  I felt a stab of guilt, wondering why I was admiring Derek when Burton was my beau. “Why not? Your actor friend is dead, and you may be next. After all this time, can’t I still worry about you? We’re pals, aren’t we?”

  “Pals? If that’s the way you want it...” Derek leapt off the bench. “I thought you wanted more out of life.”

  “Of course I do.” My face flushed. “It’s been two years. We’ve both changed. What did you expect?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged, looking away. “I expected nothing. But I was hoping for more.”

  The simple, straightforward way he spoke made my heart turn over. No drama, no embellishment. What could I say? True, Burton and I weren’t exactly engaged or even serious, but we’d been through so much together, and most of all, he’d gained my trust.

  Even if we broke up and I dated Derek once more, how could I be sure he wouldn’t get restless and take off again? Besides, I had my own career, my own goals, to pursue—and that didn’t include following an unemployed actor around the country, looking for work.

  “I’m sorry, Derek. Things are different now. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help...”

  “Help? How about getting your boyfriend off my back?” He thrust out his arms. “Tell him I may play a villain on stage, but in real life, I’m one of the good guys.”

  Jumping up, he turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving me speechless, for once.

  “There you are.” Out of nowhere, Burton appeared, a white rabbit in a magician’s hat. “Was that Derek? He rushed by me so fast, I didn’t get a chance to say anything.”

  Still dazed, I looked up at him as if he were a stranger. “Derek? Oh, yes, we met for lunch today. Remember, our interview?”

  “Interview? So that’s what you call a lunch date.”

  Was he teasing or genuinely jealous?

  “Have a seat.” I patted the space by me on the park bench. Torn, I wanted to update him on the vaudeville troupe, then decided I’d better sift through my thoughts before I blurted anything out I’d regret later.

  We needed to gather more evidence before Draper and Milo—or the musicians—could be charged with any crime. Who had the most to lose? Or for that matter, the most to gain by Patrick’s death?

  Burton frowned as he sat down. “There goes your left eye again. What’s the big secret?”

  “I need to get more facts before I incriminate anyone—yet.”

  “Which crime are you talking about—theft or murder?”

  “Possibly both. Surely you didn’t come all this way to interrogate me about my so-called lunch date?”

  Burton drew a deep breath. “You won’t believe who stopped by the Oasis last night. George Musey, along with his old pal, Johnny Jack Nounes.”

  “Johnny Jack is back in town?” My back stiffened. “What did they want?”

  “Guess. Good thing Sammy and Frank were locked up.” Burton shifted on the bench to face me. “Those two thugs threatened Dino, said they’re looking for a bunch of valuable jewels—hot, of course. That explains why Patrick and his killer kept returning to the Oasis.”

  “Why did they meet at the Oasis in the first place? Why hide the stolen jewelry there?” I wondered.

  “I suspect Musey wanted to set up Sammy. Johnny Jack’s pride may be hurt after the booze drop, but Musey is only after money. ” Burton’s blue eyes flashed. “Here’s the kicker. Apparently the jewels were hidden in an old musical instrument case—specifically, a viola.”

  ******

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “A viola? That’s what Patrick was trying to tell me after he got stabbed.” I clutched Burton’s arm. “I was beginning to suspect as much. He must have hidden it at the Oasis, but he died without telling anyone the exact location. Not even Derek. At least he didn’t mention it to me.”

  “What else did Derek say? Anything I should know?”

  “Can you keep this under your hat?” I’d promised Derek I wouldn’t spill the beans, but frankly, I was worried he might be in serious danger. After all, his friend Patrick had paid for his silence with his life.

  While Burton and I walked over to the Gazette building, I filled him in on the details of my lunch with Derek. Well, most of it anyway. “You’ll never believe what goes on behind the scenes at these vaudeville shows. Derek admitted that the director, Draper, expects the troupe to steal jewelry to help fund the productions.”

  Burton stopped in his tracks. “He supports the thefts?”

  “Apparently he’s deep in debt.�
� I nodded. “Our hunch was right about the musicians. Not only do they steal jewelry from hotel guests, Milo is in on the scheme.”

  “The magician?” Burton blinked in surprise. “How do they pull that off?”

  “I had the same question. Turns out Milo swipes the guests’ hotel keys while the band plays the first set,” I told him. “During the break, he distracts the customers while the musicians rob the rooms. Then he returns the keys when no one is looking. Gotta admit, it’s clever.”

  “Clever and illegal. And I thought the gangsters were the only ones we had to watch out for...now we’ve got to keep an eye on musicians and magicians?”

  “Sad but true. Derek told me that he and Patrick planned to expose Draper and the troupe. He suspects that’s why he was arrested, as a warning to keep his mouth shut. Derek claims that Patrick held onto the jewels as evidence, to give to the authorities.”

  “Evidence—is that all?” Burton frowned. “I doubt that’s the whole story. Why risk his life for someone else’s jewelry? Maybe he wanted to keep the loot for himself. Don’t forget, he did hide a diamond ring in his...uh...”

  “Undergarment? Yes, but Derek said Patrick was an honest, decent guy. I’ll bet he wanted out of the troupe—and planned to hock the ring to pave his way. Still, I don’t get it. Why stash the bag of jewelry at a public bar like the Oasis? Why not hide them in a private place?” I thought it over. “I suppose when you’re on the road, it’s hard to keep anything hidden or private.”

  “True,” Burton said. “I heard Musey and Nounes searched the bar all over, but couldn’t find the jewelry or viola anywhere. Then our undercover cops came in and did the same. Unfortunately, they trashed the place for nothing. This Patrick sure was good at keeping secrets.”

  I nodded. “Too bad he didn’t get a chance to tell anyone his hiding place before he was killed.”

  I considered that notion, wondering if Derek possibly knew the jewels’ location, but didn’t want to blab—for my own protection or his?

  Changing the subject, I asked, “How’s Sammy? Frank? Did the cops release them yet?”

  “Luckily, they let them both go first thing this morning. Poor guy has his plate full cleaning up. Those two-bit goons did a good job of tearing up the place. I think it was partly for show.”

  “Hate to admit, but maybe locking him up for the night was a good idea.” I could only imagine the mess they’d made at the Oasis. “I’ll go by with Amanda later and help him clean up.”

  “Be careful,” he warned. “What if Musey stops by again? He might recognize you from the other night.”

  “Don’t worry, I doubt he’ll come by twice in a row. We’ll be safe with Sammy and Dino there.”

  Slowing to a stop, I waved to Finn, hawking his papers in front of the Gazette building, and told Burton: “Better keep quiet for now. Say, what are you doing Thursday night? Feel like seeing the vaudeville show?”

  “Again?” He groaned. “What have you got in mind?”

  “Let’s watch these performers in action, see if we notice anything the second time around. Maybe we’ll recognize someone from last night?”

  “I’ll be sure to clear my calendar,” Burton said dryly. “Good luck tonight at the Oasis. I’ll call you later, make sure you got home OK.”

  I stopped to talk to Finn, who sat on a stack of newspapers petting Golliwogg.

  “How’s Golly doing?” The fluffy black cat rubbed my ankles in greeting. I leaned over to scratch my favorite stray under her silky chin, and felt her purring. “I see she’s fattened up.”

  “She’s OK,” the tyke sighed. “But I’m not doing so hot. Folks saving up for Christmas, not spending much dough on papers now.”

  Feeling generous, I handed him a dollar, half a day’s pay. “Go ahead and buy a treat for yourself and Golly. I’ll keep an eye on your papers.”

  “Gee, thanks, Jazz! Can I get some jawbreakers too?”

  “Try not to break your jaw,” I joked. “Make sure you both get enough hot food to eat.”

  When I settled in at my desk, Mrs. Harper beamed at me and asked, “How was your date with Derek?”

  “It wasn’t a date, just an interview,” I reminded her.

  “Anything newsworthy?” she pried.

  “I’ll look over my notes,” I stalled. “But don’t you think we’re overdoing the Derek stories for now?”

  Sure, I wanted to write an investigative article and expose the director, but not at the risk of harming Derek. Besides, we still needed the hot jewels as evidence.

  “Well, perhaps you can try a different angle. Did he give you any behind-the-scenes gossip?”

  And how!

  After work, I rushed home and spilled the beans to Amanda. When I told her Musey and Nounes had trashed the Oasis, she leapt to her feet. “Oh, no! Let’s go help Sammy clean up.”

  “I hoped you’d say that.” I knew he might forgive me for turning in the violin wire if I brought Amanda along.

  “First, I need to change into something pretty...” She surveyed her triple armoire, filled with frocks.

  “Amanda, you look swell. Do you really want to wear a fancy frock to clean up a bar?”

  “OK, let me throw on a nice wrap.” While I changed, she reapplied her lipstick, fluffed up her hair, spritzed on some gardenia perfume and carefully draped a floral embroidered piano shawl with long silky fringe over her shoulders. A nice wrap? It was stunning!

  “Where in the world did you get that beauty?” I asked her, fingering the long fringe.

  “I got it at Eiband’s on sale. I spied it last summer, then hid it in the racks until the fall. By then it was marked down almost half price!”

  “I’ve got to hand it to you, you know how to sniff out the best deals,” I teased her.

  The night air felt chilly as we walked to the trolley stop, a refreshing change after the hot summers. By the time we reached the Oasis, we were shivering in our thin frocks and wraps. Frank greeted us at the door—actually, more of a grunt—and we descended the stairs into sheer and utter chaos.

  Sadly, the Oasis looked like overzealous Prohibition agents had raided the place: tables turned over, chairs broken, bottles smashed. Even some of Sammy’s prized model schooners and ships in a bottle lay broken on the floor. This, after a few hours of cleaning?

  Amanda and I stared in shock at the disarray. Most heartbreaking of all was Sammy’s helpless and hopeless expression. “What are you gals doing here? Come to celebrate my release?” He gave me a pointed look, trying to suppress his anger.

  “I’m so sorry!” Amanda reached out to hug Sammy.

  “Who did this—Musey and Johnny Jack? Or the cops?” I flung out my hands in exasperation.

  “You name it. Those bastards went crazy looking for the jewels,” Dino said. “Then the cops finished the job.”

  Sammy’s eyes looked haunted. “Johnny Jack and Musey said if I don’t find the jewelry, they’ll tell the police that I stole them. If I come up empty-handed, they threatened to demolish the place.”

  I inhaled sharply, wishing I’d brought Burton along. He always remained calm while I felt like screaming and kicking those good-for-nothing goons.

  “What can we do to help?” Amanda wrung her hands. In her colorful coat, she resembled a bright desert flower pushing through a barren wasteland.

  “Help me find the jewels,” Sammy said solemnly. “It’s the only way I can pay back Musey and Nounes. They still blame me for the booze bust, and lost cases of rum.”

  “Pay them back with stolen gems?” I frowned. “They don’t own them, and neither do you.”

  “Musey told me he gave a big loan to that vaudeville guy, Draper or whoever, to keep his show going.” His olive eyes flashed. “The hot rocks are his payment.”

  Sammy confirmed Derek’s claims. “Since when did a brute like Musey invest in the arts?”

  “Word is, Draper tried to hock some stolen jewels first to the Maceos, then to Musey. Rose threw him out on his ass, said
he wanted no part of a cat burglary ring. George Musey offered him cash upfront so he’d get part of the loot—and more to boot.”

  “So Draper made a deal with the devil.”

  Sammy nodded. “Draper arranged for a go-between in the troupe to give a viola case full of jewelry to Musey’s fence that night, but Musey claims he swiped the jewels—and hid them here instead.”

  So Derek’s story checked out. “Explains why our John Doe, Patrick, returned to the Oasis disguised as a woman, to retrieve the jewels without getting caught.”

  “Seems Musey’s men waited here round the clock for Patrick to show up, hoping he’d lead them to the jewels. No such luck. Now Musey blames me for the murder,” Sammy said. “When his fence came back empty-handed, Musey lost his head. Threatened to kill him on the spot.”

  “Why is Musey blaming you? It’s not your fault that Patrick hid the stolen jewels here.” I shook my head in frustration. “Who’s the middleman? Did he kill Patrick?”

  “Musey’s not talking.” Sammy shrugged. “They promised me that if I take the jewels off their hands and sell them in Houston, I’m off the hook. Out of their debt—for good.”

  My heart dropped. “You’re the fence?”

  ******

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “That’s the plan. But I can’t very well fence anything if I don’t find the jewels.” Sammy scratched his throat, his five o’clock shadow looking more like midnight. “Musey only gave me a few days to fence all the jewelry.”

  “You knew about this scheme all along?” I flared up. “That’s the real reason you came back here? Not to visit us, but to appease Johnny Jack and Musey? Obviously you care more about the Downtown Gang!”

  Amanda blinked back tears. “Gosh, Sammy. I thought you couldn’t wait to see me.”

  “You know I wanted to see you. Everything changed after Patrick got stabbed. The fence screwed up, big-time. Believe me, my trip here wasn’t planned, it was last-minute. Musey means business. He’s a mean son-of-a-bitch.”