“Can’t you find another way to pay back Johnny Jack? Aren’t you making money in Houston?” I asked.
“Not fast enough. I’ve got to share the profits with my partner.” Sammy let out a snort. “Some partner Davis turned out to be. He charges me room and board and takes out a hefty sum to cover his gambling debts. When he’s not gambling, he’s drinking up our stock.”
That sounded familiar. “You didn’t tell me business was that bad.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. Tell the truth, I’m ready to move back to Galveston. But I can’t do anything unless I’m squared away with Johnny and George.”
“Can’t the Maceos help you out?” I suggested. “They’re loaded with cash.”
“If word got out that the Maceos’ dough ended up in Johnny Jack’s back pocket, all hell would break loose.” Sammy shook his head. “I can’t think of any other way out of this jam.”
“I’d love for you to move back to town, but not if it’s so dangerous,” Amanda said, stroking his unruly dark hair.
I didn’t want to consider the risks. “Why don’t we start hunting for the jewelry? Have you looked in the bar? The stairwell? What about your office or kitchen?”
Sammy nodded. “We’ve checked everywhere.”
“Even back here?” I moved behind the bar and started poking around the remaining model schooners lining the shelves, shaking out some cigarette ashes and dust.
“Hey, be careful with those. I built them myself.” Sammy looked alarmed. “I doubt Patrick hid any gems there. We don’t let strangers behind the bar.”
“Just trying to help. What about the kitchen?” I darted in and poked around the pots and pans a while until Bernie the cook gave me a dirty look.
“No jewels here, Jazz.” Luckily Bernie kept a clean house, unlike Sammy, whose office resembled a junkyard.
“You’ve looked top to bottom?” As I stood by the bar, surveying the room, my eyes strayed to Doria hanging above. “What about Doria? Give me a hand, will you?”
“Jazz, watch your step.” Sammy held out his hands.
Behind the bar, I cautiously placed my foot on the bottom shelf and he helped hoist me up onto the counter until I was face-to-face with Doria, our wooden mascot.
“What are you doing, Jazz?” Amanda yelped. “Be careful up there!”
“Just being thorough.” I stood on my tiptoes and eyed Doria’s cavernous curves. Then I reached in her hollow frame and felt around the perimeter—and voila!
I found a lumpy velvet bag hidden inside her chest cavity. Holding it up to the dim lights, I peered inside the bag and gasped when I saw the bundle of glittering baubles and stones, still sparkling and bright. Triumphant, I waved the bag like a victory flag.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
******
CHAPTER THIRTY
Sammy’s face lit up like neon. “Jazz, you’re a lifesaver! Literally. What would I do without you?” He reached out for the jewels, his palms open. Then he helped me down off the bar, holding onto my arms like I was a porcelain doll. “Now I can show Musey the jewels and prove I didn’t steal them.”
“Attagirl, Jazz.” Frank slapped my back when I was on safe ground. “We thought Sammy was a goner. Now he can return to Houston and save our necks.”
“Question is, how’d Patrick hide the jewels up there?” Sammy held up the bag, and we all looked over at Buzz, the little monkey. “Seen this before, sport?”
Buzz shrugged, his face pink. “A tall man gave me the bag to hide. I thought it was a game. He said he’d come back, but I never saw him again.”
Poor Buzz had no idea what had happened. Or did he? After all, he’d discovered Patrick’s body in the alley after he was stabbed—and the bloody knife.
“Say, why don’t you turn over the jewels to Burton?” I suggested to Sammy.
His eyes narrowed. “Why in hell would I do that?”
“A show of good faith. The owners will be grateful.”
“Grateful isn’t good enough. These gems are my ticket out of hell.”
“How do you know Musey will keep his word? Maybe he’ll want you to continue doing his dirty work.”
“George Musey is a greedy son-of-a-gun. He’d rather stick me behind the bar so he can keep taking my money.”
“Behind bars is more like it.” I gave him a pointed look. “What will you do now?”
“I’m calling Musey with the good news. Then I’ve got to find some way to hock these babies in Houston—and fast.” Sammy studied the bag of jewelry.
“When are you going back to Houston?” Amanda wailed, on the verge of tears.
“First thing in the morning. But now I feel like celebrating.” Sammy gave Amanda a peck on the cheek and wrapped his arms over our shoulders. “You gals stick around for a while. Don’t worry about cleaning up this dump.” He sifted through the jewels, holding up a beautiful brooch made of rubies and sapphires. “Does this toot your horn?”
“Sammy!” Amanda and I cried out in unison. “They’re stolen goods!” I had to admit, the thought was tempting.
“Just kidding.” He grinned. “Wish I could give these to my two favorite gals, but I can’t afford the price.”
I glanced at the gems and thought I recognized a few designer pieces. “Can I take a look?” I hoped the cops could return the jewelry to their rightful owners before they disappeared, one by one.
“Help yourself.” Sammy shoved back his chair, a big smile on his handsome face. “Excuse me while I make my phone call.”
To be honest, I was tempted to borrow a few baubles to show Agent Burton. Still, what would I tell him—if anything? Should I keep quiet while Sammy returned to Houston with the jewels? Or try to convince him to turn them over to the police? Of course I had mixed feelings about the whole dilemma—but Sammy was in a tight spot, and he came first.
When Sammy sat back down, his smile had become a scowl. “Damn that Musey. He wants to meet tomorrow to make sure all the jewelry is there. Said he memorized them by heart. Obviously he doesn’t trust me.”
“I doubt he trusts anyone in his line of work.” I cleared my throat. “Hate to tell you, but don’t be surprised if a diamond ring is missing.”
“A diamond ring?” His eyes widened in alarm. “How do you know? You didn’t...”
“Me? No! Patrick. Burton told me it was hidden in his...her...bra.” I stifled my smile.
“He was wearing a bra? Now I’ve heard everything.” Despite his sour mood, Sammy began to laugh. “Say, can Burton help me get the ring back before Musey finds out it’s missing?”
“Sammy, it’s stolen property. I doubt Burton will just hand it over to you... unless...you can return the favor.” Suddenly I had a brainstorm, but needed to discuss it with Burton before I got Sammy’s hopes up. “Can I use your phone to call Agent Burton?”
“Be my guest.” Sammy nodded. “But I won’t change my mind. Be sure to tell him my hide is on the line.”
Luckily, Burton was working late when I called the police station. “Guess who found the jewels Patrick hid? Doria stashed them away when no one was looking.”
“Swell. You must be a mind-reader. Or did Doria tip you off?” Burton joked.
“Both. Say, I’ve got a favor to ask. Has anyone claimed the diamond ring yet?”
“Not yet. You won’t believe who it belongs to.” He paused. “Rose Maceo’s wife.”
I sucked in my breath. “Are you kidding? How did anyone manage to steal a wedding ring off her finger?”
“Who knows? She filed a report a few days ago.” Burton exhaled into the phone. “Rather, Rose Maceo stormed into the station demanding that we locate her lost ring. We had our secretary file a formal report.”
“Do you still have the ring?”
“The captain is holding onto it for now. Mrs. Maceo is supposed to come in tomorrow to ID the ring. Apparently Maceo has the papers to prove it’s theirs.”
“Burton, you’ve got to give Sammy the ring f
or now. He’s meeting with Musey tomorrow,” I pleaded. “Who knows what Musey will do to Sammy if that ring is missing. Can you stall the Maceos for a while? I have a brainstorm.”
“OK, but you’d better have a damn good idea. Rose Maceo is not a patient man.”
“So I’ve heard.” I cleared my throat. “Can you stop by the Oasis right away? I may have a way to catch Musey red-handed.”
“Musey? I’ll be right over.”
Half an hour later, Burton arrived at the Oasis, his jaw clenched.
“Got the ring?” Sammy’s eyes were wild with worry.
“Not so fast, pal.” Burton remained in the doorway. “Jazz has a plan to get you out of trouble. But I need to get you on board before I talk to the brass.”
“Oh yeah?” Sammy seemed skeptical. “Pull up a chair.”
Amanda waited at the bar while we moved to a back table. Briefly, I outlined my plan: “It needs to appear as if you and Musey are working together to fence the jewels. The cops must see him holding the jewels or it may seem like you’re working alone.”
Burton cut in, adding, “When you show Musey the jewelry, make sure he handles a few pieces so we can get his fingerprints for our records.”
“You want to catch Musey holding the bag,” Sammy cracked. “What happens to me?”
“We’ll have to arrest you both on the spot so Musey doesn’t become suspicious,” Burton explained. “After he’s booked and charged, we’ll return you to Houston later.”
Silently, Sammy stared at Doria above the bar, puffing on a Camel cigarette.
“What do you think?” I asked.
Sammy eyes darted back and forth warily. “Let’s hope Musey doesn’t get wise. I don’t want to be a stool pigeon.”
“Why would he suspect anything? After all, the meeting was his idea,” I pointed out.
“Worth a shot.” Sammy looked hopeful. “I’ll try anything to get Musey locked up.”
******
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“You and me both,” Burton told Sammy.
“Good luck.” I gave Sammy a hug. “It’s in the bag.”
“You’re a riot.” Sammy forced a smile.
After we said our good-byes, Burton drove me home while Amanda stayed behind at the Oasis. I felt guilty for not telling her our plans, but it was best to keep quiet for now. Amanda worked at the biggest rumor mill in town—Star Diner—and if she said one word to anyone, that could be curtains for Sammy.
“You think Musey will get suspicious?” I asked Burton as we rode in his Roadster.
“Depends on Sammy. If he starts acting nervous or gets cold feet, he’ll give it away.”
“Sammy, nervous? You’ve seen him in action. He’s cool as a popsicle.”
“True. He wasn’t fazed a bit when I raided his place last summer.” Burton gave me a sly smile. “As I recall, neither were you.”
“Sure I was.” I poked him in the ribs. “I just didn’t want you to know.”
“I figured as much. I wonder if I should follow Sammy to his meet, in case he needs back-up, just to be safe.”
“Now you sound like me. I wish you could, but Musey’s men are bound to spot you.”
“Don’t worry, Jazz. We’ve all got a lot at stake.”
After Burton walked me to the door, I told him, “Thanks for going along with my idea. I wasn’t sure Sammy could be convinced.”
“Beats any other option. I’ll ask Johnson to put his best men on the job.” He tapped his watch. “I’d better scram. Need to set the wheels in motion if this is going to work.”
“We’re counting on you.” I gave Burton a quick kiss before Eva came out on the porch to spy. Now that her Sheriff Sanders was living in Houston, she had more time to fret over me.
He smiled. “Tell me if your newsboys hear anything.”
“You got it. By the way, don’t forget about the vaudeville show,” I reminded him. “Derek promised us front-row seats. We can keep an eye on the orchestra and Milo.”
“Can’t wait,” Burton said dryly as he turned to go.
I stayed up until midnight for Amanda to come home, reading an old copy of Collier’s Weekly, but she still was late. Did she spend the night with Sammy?
At 22, Amanda could do as she pleased, but I knew Aunt Eva wouldn’t approve if she ever found out. Like a typical bluenose, Eva liked to lecture, living by the adage: Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free?
All night, I tossed and turned, worried about my plan to catch Musey with the jewels. Was it so smart to use Sammy as bait to lure Musey into our trap?
Wednesday
The next day, I showed up at the Gazette, red-eyed and exhausted, hoping to avoid Mrs. Harper’s scrutiny. “How’s your profile on Derek coming along?” Mrs. Harper called out. “What have you written so far?”
Profile? Oh no—I’d completely forgotten my deadline. “I’ll surprise you,” I squeaked out as I slumped in my banker’s chair. “It’ll be worth the wait.” Why did I have to promise her a piece I couldn’t deliver? Not yet anyway.
I tried to rack my brain for inspiration, a new story angle. How could I report on the stolen jewelry without actual proof? Sure, I’d found the bag of jewels, but that only incriminated Sammy—not the vaudeville director and his treasure-stealing troupe.
Instead, I decided to put a positive spin on the piece, adding that the director mixed up the acts and performers to keep the show fresh and exciting—not to cover up a murder. No one needed to know that, to make ends meet, the musicians moonlighted as cat burglars.
Derek became a minor sidebar, a toned-down version of the ‘Hometown hero does good’ piece of fluff the public loved to read. Should I mention his false arrest and accusations? Dare I rattle the troupe without actually pointing fingers? I’d have to run it by Mrs. Harper first since she clearly liked to fiddle with my copy.
But before I finished, I got an urgent call from Burton. “There’s been a change of plans.”
“What do you mean?” I kept my face expressionless since I was sitting at Mrs. Harper’s desk right in the middle of the bullpen. Thank goodness she’d left for an early luncheon and wasn’t around to eavesdrop.
“Guess who came by the police station this morning? Rose Maceo and his wife, demanding the ring. She was hysterical, making a big scene, ready to raise holy hell.”
“So you gave it to her.” I kept my voice flat, knowing Musey probably had men killed for losing a bet, much less a valuable diamond ring.
The newsroom had suddenly gone quiet, ears perked up in anticipation. “I had no other choice.” Burton waited for my reaction. “But there’s good news. Meet me outside in ten minutes and I’ll explain.”
There went my deadline—again. Ten minutes later, I rushed out the door, ignoring the reporters. “What’s the hurry, toots? Got an urgent manicure? Or a hot date with a villain?”
“You slay me.” I rolled my eyes to shut them up.
Burton was prompt as usual, parked outside in his Roadster. The street noise of newsies, trolleys, cars and sidewalk vendors drowned out our chatter. An old man in a brown felt derby paraded back and forth, wearing a crude sandwich board advertising hot deli lunches for 25 cents.
“First, tell me the good news.” I faced him, glum.
“You’ll never believe this.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Have you seen Rose Maceo’s wife? She’s quite a looker.”
I shook my head. “Mobsters tend to keep a low profile, except for Sam Maceo. He’s not exactly camera-shy.”
“No doubt about it, Big Sam likes the spotlight. Speaking of, remember the rich dame at Mario’s, the vamp whose purse was stolen? Guess who she’s married to?” Burton paused for effect. “Rose Maceo.”
“You don’t say!” I almost popped out of the Roadster. Too bad we couldn’t print this tasty tidbit in the society section—but we’d all have to do a lot of explaining. “Obviously her handsome escort was not Rose Maceo. She must have hidden her ring in the purse before she m
et her beau for dinner. Did she recognize you?”
“She almost fainted on the spot. I was a gentleman and pretended I’d never seen her before. I figured she gave me a phony name and number that night.” Burton grinned.
“No wonder she wanted to dine at Mario’s, away from the Beach Gang’s turf—so she wouldn’t be spotted. Think she’s dating a member of the Downtown Gang?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Get this: She gave us a five-hundred dollar reward for finding her ring. I think it’s hush money to shut me up. Small price to pay for her life.”
I couldn’t stop smiling. “Did Rose Maceo notice anything was fishy?”
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be in her fancy French shoes.”
“So how did the ring end up with Patrick?” I wondered, thinking out loud. “The purse snatcher must have given it to Musey’s middleman—or he was the fence. What if Patrick robbed him the night he got killed? Do you think they knew she was Rose Maceo’s wife?”
“If they did, she wouldn’t still be alive.” Burton’s eyes narrowed. “Who knows? Maybe she’s a liaison between the Beach and Downtown gangs.”
“Either way, she’s playing a dangerous game. At least her ring is back on her finger.”
“For now,” he cracked. “Fortunately for Sammy, we’re willing to give him the reward money for his meeting, if he returns the cash to the police. He can use it to stall Musey, pretend he sold the diamond ring to a rich tourist.”
I heaved a sigh of relief. “How will he get the cash in time before Musey shows up?”
Burton started the Roadster. “I hope you’ll help us out. Musey’s goons are likely watching the Oasis and they’d spot a cop a mile away. But they won’t suspect a pretty young gal like you.”
Vamps, Villains and Vaudeville Page 14
