Whistling in the Dark

by Tamara Allen

When they remembered the rest of the world's existence sometime later, they were breathless and beat, sheets and pillows in every direction and the room too hot for sleep. Jack seemed in no frame of mind to even try, so Sutton agreed to a walk, hoping against hope it would do the trick.

  - - -

  The cool night air soothed and revived at once, and Jack walked with a purpose. Sutton assumed he had the club in mind, but when they passed the automat, Jack glanced through the plate glass and turned on his heel. "There's Theo. The show must've ended early." Jack grabbed Sutton's hand and pulled him to the door. "I know you're sleepy," he said, "so, look, just a little while, all right? And we'll go home, I promise."

  Sutton followed him in, to where Theo sat stirring his coffee with the distant stare of a man some minutes out of touch with his surroundings. Sutton might have labeled his expression lovesick if he hadn't felt sure Jack would have teased him mercilessly for it.

  "Hello, Glum," Jack said cheerfully, lighting on the chair opposite Theo's and nearly startling the life out of him. "Anything doing?"

  "Jack." Theo's wide green eyes went to Sutton and a smile found his lips. "Sutton. Oh dear, now my heart will split in two for certain."

  Jack paused in the midst of digging through pockets, ostensibly for change. "What's the matter?"

  "Love in its first fresh bloom before my eyes and my own crushed and swept away as ashes in the cold morning." Theo sighed and resumed stirring.

  "The fellow from the baths didn't want to sleep over?"

  "Jack," Sutton whispered with a nudge and shook his head. "Theo, what is it?"

  "Who is it, you mean," Jack said.

  Theo groaned in agony and buried his head in his arms. Jack jiggled the handful of change and glanced at Sutton. "Pie?"

  "Jack," Sutton said, exasperated, and Jack went to forage.

  Theo sat up and combed slender fingers through his hair. "How do you put up with him? He has no sense of drama."

  "Are you all right?" Sutton offered him a handkerchief which he accepted with a slight smile.

  "I'll carry on, somehow. You look sleepy, my dear. Don't let Jack run you about too much or you'll always have dark circles under those beautiful eyes. Come to bathe with us?"

  "Bathe?"

  "Oh it's the loveliest feast for the eyes. And the hands, once you're acclimated," Theo said with a wink.

  "You mean the public baths?"

  Jack returned and, depositing three plates of pie on the table, helped himself to the biggest. "No baths tonight. Spilled your tale of woe yet?"

  "Why no baths?" Theo asked. "It will warm our tired bones."

  "My bones are fine, thanks. You just want to ogle Sutton in all his glory."

  Sutton smiled. "You go there often?"

  "You wouldn't like it," Jack said with a dismissive wave of the fork. "Besides, you're pining, right?" he said to Theo. "So let's hear."

  Theo took a plate and sat back in his chair. "If you really want to know–"

  "Trade for the pie. Go."

  Theo rolled his eyes. "There was a supper party for Bill and his intended–"

  "Don't tell me you were invited," Jack said.

  "Oh, no. He wanted to borrow my tie pin, you know the one with the little emeralds? Well, very like emeralds, anyway--so I went around to give it to him and the poor lad was so down, I tried to cheer him up--"

  Jack groaned. "Not at the party."

  "Not at the--" Sutton stopped, realizing. "Oh."

  Theo peeled away a piece of crust and chewed it disconsolately. "I'm really going to Hell, aren't I. First in line and all that."

  "Not ahead of me," Jack said with cheer that made Sutton laugh. "So--you get caught?" He coughed and quickly swallowed down a mouthful of Theo's coffee. "Oh, God--not by the bride?"

  Theo looked anguished. "Her mother."

  Jack choked then, on helpless laughter. Sutton gave him a push. "Jack, really–"

  "Oh, laugh," Theo said. "I suppose it is funny, if one's heart isn't broken."

  "I can't believe a whole lot more of you's not broken," Jack said. "What in the world did she do? What did she say?"

  Theo's shoulders lifted in a rueful shrug. "The poor dear couldn't stop wailing long enough to get a word out."

  "Wailing?" Sutton's soul shrank in sympathetic horror. "That must have brought everyone, then."

  "Oh yes, right up to the priest. Of course he just chuckled and said boys will be boys, but I do think the bride's family would have horsewhipped Bill and me both, if the attendants hadn't whisked us away."

  Jack snorted. "The priest didn't say any such thing."

  "Perhaps I said it," Theo mused. "It was such a hectic afternoon, I can't recall. But now--oh now, Bill won't speak to me or see me. And I've missed him dreadfully."

  "He'll get over it. Wait a week and go talk to him."

  Theo looked at Jack in disbelief. "You realize it's not exactly a minor set-to. The wedding's off. He's lost millions."

  "All right, so wait two weeks. He'll be ready for some--" Jack's grin returned. "Consolation." It was too much for him and he leaned against Sutton, shoulders shaking. Sutton found it a challenge not to give in, himself. It was rather funny, despite the dreadful embarrassment Theo must have endured.

  "He must forgive you sometime," Sutton said. "You're certainly not the only one to blame, if he was willing--" He cleared his throat. "There must have been some part of him that didn't really want to be married--" At Jack's snicker, Sutton sighed and nudged him again. "You understand what I mean."

  "If I didn't, my dear, the blush would give it away," Theo said, patting his hand. "It's all right. You may laugh. At least you've the manners to try to restrain yourself. This Jack-knave, on the other hand--"

  "Oh, hell," Jack said, as red-faced as Sutton but for a different reason. "Who wouldn't laugh? That's the funniest thing I've heard in ages."

  Theo sighed in resignation and started in on the pie. "Quite a world, isn't it? No bother at all for them to push a gun in our hands and tell us to kill any number of fellows we can--but God forbid we should kiss one. A most contrary way to run things, if you ask me. And now this--" He upturned his palm to reveal two nickels side by side. "It's ten cents more than I gave her."

  Jack's mouth dropped open. "Old Peabody? No--she couldn't have. On the level?"

  Sutton followed their simultaneous glance to the matronly woman in the change booth, who shot nickels across the counter with dour concentration and lightning speed. "I wouldn't wonder if she made a mistake--"

  "They don't make mistakes." The sympathy Jack aimed at Theo seemed a little too bright-eyed. "That'll teach you to strut around the 'mat in your old coat and scuffed shoes. You must've roused up her motherly instincts."

  "Jack Bailey, you are a reprobate," Theo said. "A scoundrel. The knavest of knaves, I swear."

  Neither the assertions nor the dark sparkle in Theo's eyes cowed Jack. "You'll let us know when she sets the date, won't you?"

  Theo sniffed. "I won't have reprobates and scoundrels at my wedding."

  "Going to be an awfully dull one, then..."

  The conversation slipped away from Sutton as a voice unsettling in its vague familiarity drifted to his ears. He peeked around and matched face to voice–and the cold, sick feeling in his gut spread.

  "Sutton?" Jack's hand circled his wrist. "What's the matter?"

  Sutton whispered it. "Kent."

  - Thirty-Six -

  "Kent?" Jack looked around. "The one that put you in the hospital?"

  "Hospital?" Theo said, eyebrows lifting as he looked at Sutton in concern. After Sutton explained, he nodded. "So those fading bruises you were sporting--"

  Jack started to get up and Sutton grabbed his hand. "Don't. They're surely armed."

  "Good point." Jack looked at Theo. "You still got the--"

  "I do." Theo tucked his scarf under his coat and turned up his collar. "Nights are always a lot of fun with you, Jack," he said, grinning, and stood.

&nb
sp; "Theo," Sutton whispered after him as he left the table. "Jack, what is he doing? You don't know how rough they are. They'll hurt him. Let's just find a policeman--"

  "And what are you going to tell him when he asks why you didn't report this a whole lot sooner?"

  Sutton didn't have an answer. Jack slipped an arm under his and found his hand with a reassuring grip. "You're not the villain, Sutton, so quit looking like that."

  Theo chatted with Kent for an interminable time and when they finally left the automat together, Jack got up. "Stay here. And don't worry. We've done this before."

  Sutton had no desire to face Kent ever again, but staying in the clean, bright comfort of the automat while Jack and Theo went into battle for him was no alternative. He left after them and finding no one in the street, heard a commotion around the corner and started down the sidewalk at a run. In the wind-swept alley, Theo had his gun trained on Kent and his accomplices while Jack searched Kent's pockets. Kent stood silent but wary. His gaze found Sutton and contempt followed recognition. Sutton knew when they let him go, Kent would find someone as lonely and foolish as Sutton had been--and the beating the poor fellow faced would be worse because of this.

  Sutton hadn't hated anyone in the war, except perhaps the men who had started it. He'd hated the students who had seen him with David and reported him--but not even their contempt and their taunts had stirred him to shove anyone into a wall. He hadn't pressed an arm into anyone's throat to hold him against his will, hadn't felt muscles clench with a driving desire to pound a supercilious smile into a grimace of pain.

  Jack's hand settled high on his shoulder, a thumb above his shirt collar brushing against his burning skin. "How much did the son of a bitch take?"

  Jack said it casually, as if it didn't surprise him that Sutton had yanked Kent out of his grasp and shoved him into the wall. "Four dollars," Sutton said, fixed relentlessly on Kent's watchful gaze. He wanted to see uncertainty or fear--or regret. He wanted Kent to feel the vulnerability he'd felt, and understand he was just as breakable.

  "Four dollars? He's got a lot more than that." Jack eased the cash out and tucked part of it into Sutton's pocket, along with the wallet. He tossed the remaining cash on the ground. "What do you want to do with him?"

  "Oh, do let's have some fun," Theo said and waved the gun at Kent's accomplices. "How about you fellows? Care to play?"

  Sutton, shocked, stole a glance around. The two men edged away, ready to break and run despite the gun in Theo's grip. Theo laughed. "Go on and go, then. But you'd better run quick because I might just decide to see how well I can hit moving targets in the dark."

  It was all the invitation they needed. Kent shouted after them and tried to push Sutton away. Sutton pushed back. "You're not going with them. You're not going to do to anyone else what you did to me."

  Kent hardly seemed to hear him, but flinched as Theo came near. "You leave me alone."

  Theo chuckled. "Heard the stories about this one," he said conversationally to Sutton and Jack. "Nasty bit of work. Quite the reputation. Up until tonight."

  "Don't try it," Kent rasped, beads of perspiration on suddenly pale skin. "I'll kill you, I swear to God."

  "Don't flatter yourself," Theo said. "I do have some standards. However, I'm sure your friends don't think so."

  "I wouldn't go hunting them up," Jack agreed, "unless you want them to put you in the hospital next time."

  "Hospital or morgue?" Theo rested the muzzle just above Kent's ear. "You never know when a fellow's left for dead if he's going to pull through, do you?"

  Jack gingerly took the gun from Theo's hand and put it in Sutton's. The cold weight was a half-forgotten feel Sutton hadn't wanted to reacquaint himself with ever again. Jack and Theo stepped back, leaving Kent's miserable life in his hands. But it was no easier, as much as he despised Kent, and he supposed he should be glad for that.

  He lowered the gun to his side, metal slick in his shaking grip. He felt Jack's touch again, briefly comforting against his neck, before Jack took the gun from his hand.

  "I guess it's left to me." Jack waved the gun at Kent. "Down on the ground. Hands and knees."

  "Go to hell," Kent said, then sucked in a breath as Jack shoved the muzzle against his throat.

  "This thing noisy when it goes off?" Jack asked.

  "Kent or the gun?" Theo inquired.

  Jack hooked a leg around Kent's, knocked him to the ground and slammed the gun butt against his skull. "Guess I didn't want to do it, either."

  Theo took the gun back. "Some people are so squeamish about trying anything new. And he might've come to like it," he added with a wink at Sutton.

  "We can't let him go," Sutton said. "He'll rob someone else, his first chance."

  "The theater crowd will be down in a minute," Theo said cheerfully. "Morrison Bower's a photographer, always has his camera along. We'll take some snaps and post dear Kent's photo all around. He'll have to move to Florida to find any peace." He put an arm around Sutton. "Don't worry, my dear. We shall be ever on the look-out. "

  Sutton believed him. "Thank you, Theo."

  Theo kissed his forehead and let him go. Sutton, watchful despite his weariness, heard Jack whisper to Theo, "I'm taking Sutton home. Thanks for the--you know."

  Sutton exhaled and the knots that had twisted up his insides loosened, letting him breathe and drift. It reassured him to know that if he couldn't count on the orthodox protection provided the rest of the world, he had unorthodox protection coming through for him in a pinch.

  Jack guided him back to a quiet apartment and a hot cup of cocoa. But the best was bed, which Jack hastily put in order before crawling in beside him to plaster him with warm skin and teasing comments he barely registered.

  "Jack, you've got to sleep."

  "After all that excitement? You should've made me stay home."

  Sutton put an arm around him. "It's going to be all right. We'll find a way to make it all right."

  "It's pretty all right for the moment," Jack said, sleepiness creeping into his voice. "You know, I thought you were going to kill him."

  "I couldn't--"

  "No, I knew you wouldn't shoot him. But before that, when you flew by and knocked him into the wall--I thought you might strangle the life out of him. Never saw you like that before. Coiled tighter than a phonograph spring."

  "Haven't seen myself like that," Sutton said. "Maybe it was France."

  "New York. Or maybe me."

  "Not you. Remember where we first ran into each other."

  "So you were rotten to the core before we met."

  "Thoroughly."

  "Thought so."

  A contented smile lingered on Jack's lips and Sutton wanted to say something more. Instead, he fell asleep with it nestled in his thoughts.

  - Thirty-Seven-

  Harry must have known what it had taken Sutton a while to discover. He didn't come by until three in the afternoon and finding only Sutton out of bed, proceeded to the bedroom with grim determination. Worried, Sutton followed, only to find Harry sitting quietly on the edge of the mattress, one hand resting on Jack's shoulder. Jack was awake and, before Sutton could leave them to their conversation, Harry motioned him in. "Mrs. Madigan has a supper engagement at seven. She's agreed to see us at four, so scrub up into something halfway presentable--" He brushed a hand over Jack's hair, "and we'll leave in thirty minutes."

  "What are you going to be doing?" Jack asked with a yawn.

  "I'm going back down to look through those boxes in the storeroom, see if I can find any written agreements between Mr. Madigan and your dad."

  "Haven't you searched those a dozen times now?"

  "At least." Harry got up. "Thirty minutes," he emphasized as he went out.

  Sutton, wondering how he could move Jack along that quickly, was astonished when Jack lurched past him and vanished into the bathroom. Jack seemed a coiled spring by the time they joined Harry at the curb and climbed into a cab. When the Plaza loomed pala
tially, Harry and Jack exchanged a look of glum commiseration and Sutton gave up trying to reassure either of them. At the front desk, they met Mrs. Madigan's lawyer, Mr. Barchis--thin, white-haired, with spectacles perched at the tip of his nose--who had waited to tell them Mrs. Madigan had not returned from a social call and they would have to reschedule.

  "Reschedule?" Jack stared at him. "We're about to be booted out of home and business and you want us to come back another time?"

  "Any chance she'll be in at all tonight?" Harry asked. "We'll wait as long as necessary."

  Mr. Barchis glanced over the rim of his spectacles. "You can wait, but I cannot guarantee you'll be able to meet with Mrs. Madigan this evening."

  "Even if she has only five minutes free," Harry said. "I'm sorry about barging in on a Sunday, but this is urgent."

  Mr. Barchis eyed Jack, who appeared ready to tell him just how urgent--and no doubt would have, but for Harry's firm grip on his arm. As Mr. Barchis stalked away, Jack scowled after him. "He's not going to tell her a damned thing."

  "Maybe. Let's give him a chance, all right? Damn, I wish I knew what she looked like. We could corral her before she ever goes upstairs."

  "We can't pounce on every middle-aged woman who comes through the lobby--can we?"

  Harry rolled his eyes. "You two sit. I want to talk to Barchis another minute."

  Sutton knew Harry wanted to talk to Mr. Barchis without Jack hovering over his shoulder. He scouted out a sofa shaded from the afternoon sun by potted palms, there to wait with a restless Jack and watch the passing parade.

  "Hear that?" Jack threw a glance toward a windowed enclosure and the door that had been left open. "Someone's wiring a request for funds. Says he had no idea New York was so expensive."

  "Certainly if one stays at the Plaza." Sutton leaned toward him. "Aren't we eavesdropping?"

  Jack shrugged. "I can't help it."

  "I'll remember that, the next time I send a telegram."

  "I'd never spill your secrets. Unless they're really juicy ones. Oh, there's Harry. And there he goes," Jack said with a laugh.