Speak Easy

by Melanie Harlow

  When I saw the ragtag newsboy in the usual spot, I picked up my pace. “Hello,” I called, jogging up with a friendly smile. “May I see a paper please?” He handed one to me and I scanned the front page quickly, looking for any mention of a raid at Club 23.

  Nothing.

  My heart tripped with excitement.

  “You gonna buy that paper, miss?” the boy asked me, scratching his scalp under his cap.

  “No, I’m sorry.” I was just about to give it back to him when a headline caught my eye. GANG KILLS FOUR IN EAST SIDE HEIST. Underneath that, it said Police seek link with mob led by Sam Scarfone. My stomach suffered an uneasy twinge as I skimmed the article, which stated that Big Leo Scarfone’s nephew and former lieutenant Sam the Barber Scarfone was suspected in leading another liquor heist in the city last night. Two trucks full of booze had been hijacked not far from the train station, and three men were killed at the scene. Another man survived the shooting, but police found him a short distance away, mortally wounded. Before he died, he identified Sam and gave a few other details about the crime.

  But the line that made my vision cloud with white dots was the article’s last sentence. Police are searching for a black funeral coach in connection with the crime, which was driven by a young gunman, possibly a new recruit of the Scarfone gang.

  #

  Back at home, I told Molly I was unwell and needed to lie down. I shut myself in my room and sat on my bed, clutching my hands together. One thought tore through my brain over and over again. Joey killed someone. Joey killed someone. Joey killed someone. Hell, he might’ve killed more than one! Four men were dead! I put my face in my hands. There was no doubt in my mind that he was the new recruit of the Scarfone gang—the River Gang. And the cops are looking for him. I wondered if he was on his way to Chicago by now and hoped he was. Actually I hoped he’d stay there. The cops were the least of his problems—four men in the DiFiore camp were dead, and they wouldn’t let that go.

  Retribution was coming.

  I have to get out of this mess. I have to sell the necklace, get the rest of the cash, and spring Daddy before Angel realizes I have any ties to Scarfone or his gang. I looked at the blue box next to me on the bed, my legs twitching with nervous energy. I didn’t know of any pawn shops nearby, and the only person I could think of who would was Joey. Come on, think. I held my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. What would Daddy do? Grimacing, I realized he’d probably bet the damn thing at the tables.

  Then it hit me—Ralph the Bookie.

  Never in my life had I smiled thinking about Ralph, and I wanted to seek him out about as much as I wanted to let a hairy black spider crawl up my arm, but he was the seediest person I knew. The kind of man who’d know how to get cash fast. I went to my dresser and tugged a comb through my hair. I’ll jump on the streetcar and head into the city. I could probably find him at the Sunnyside, Daddy’s usual hangout, a crummy old saloon with tables in the back room.

  “Tiny?” Molly knocked twice before opening my bedroom door. “Are you all right?” She looked surprised when she saw me combing my hair.

  I set the comb down quickly and glanced at my bed, where the necklace box was in plain sight. “Yes. What is it?”

  “There’s someone here to see youuuuu,” she sing-songed.

  My heart thumped an extra beat. “Who is it?”

  “He didn’t say.” She grinned. “And I was so flustered by his face that I didn’t think to ask. He looks like a movie star!”

  The room tilted, and I grabbed the dresser top. He’s here. At my house. “I’ll be right down. Molly, I want you to go to your room, shut the door, and stay in there until I come up and get you. OK?”

  She gave me a knowing look. “You could just ask for privacy, you know.”

  I grabbed her by the shoulders. Hard. “This is serious. Do as I say,” I ordered through clenched teeth.

  Her eyes went wide. “What’s going on?”

  “Just stay in your room.”

  “OK. But hurry, all right?” She bit her lip and left the room without further protest, and I heard her bedroom door close.

  I looked in the mirror. Swallowed. Maybe he just wants to see me again. Maybe he’s returning my purse. Maybe he even brought the car.

  But somehow I knew better.

  I walked out of my room and descended the stairs slowly, one hand on the banister for support. First I saw his polished black shoes. Then his legs in dark gray trousers. Then his torso, which had been naked before me last night, but was now buttoned up in a shirt, vest, and coat. His white collar was snug, his blood-red tie knotted as tightly as my stomach. Finally, I saw his chiseled face, shadowed by a gray fedora.

  Reaching the bottom, I looked into his eyes, which betrayed nothing.

  He put his hand on my arm. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Now isn’t really the best time,” I said, my heart thudding in my throat.

  “Now. And bring the key to the boathouse.” He reached into his coat and pulled out my small purse from last night, tossing it on the hall table next to the phone.

  I looked at it sideways. “Gee, thanks. But my sister is here, and I—”

  His grip tightened on my forearm. Threading his other hand into my hair, he made a fist at the base of my skull and tipped my head back. “I don’t think you’ll want your sister to hear the conversation we’re going to have.” He spoke softly, venom oozing between his words. My scalp stung as he tightened his fingers.

  You asshole, I gave you my virginity last night! I wanted to shout. But I had no idea what he knew about my role in the heist and thought I’d better play nice. “All right,” I said, my legs wobbling. “Can I at least tell her I’m leaving?”

  He released me. Straightened his coat. “Yell up to her.”

  I paused a second as we eyed each other, distrust thickening the tension between us. He doesn’t want me to leave his sight. Suddenly I was irritated. He had my father held hostage, and I was the untrustworthy one? Would he really stop me from going up the stairs? “Her door is closed. She won’t hear me.” I tried to move past him, but he blocked me.

  “I said yell.” His eyes snapped with anger, and the stubborn set of his jaw made me hesitate.

  But not for long. “No. If you want to come with me, fine. But I’m going up those stairs.”

  We remained in a silent standoff for a moment, and then he jerked me by my elbow up the steps. I scrambled ahead so I’d be first, but he wouldn’t let go of me. When we reached the top, I glared at him. “Let go,” I whispered through gritted teeth.

  “No.” He walked us toward the closed bedroom door and put me in front of him, circling both elbows with his fingers. “Tell her you’re leaving.” His tone was dead calm in my ear.

  “Molly? I’ll be right back. Just stay in your room, OK?” My voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched, and I prayed she wouldn’t open the door to see why.

  “OK,” came her muffled reply. My throat tightened as I imagined her curled up in her bedclothes, hugging the pillow in fear. I looked at Enzo over my shoulder, raising my eyebrows, and he let my arms go.

  He followed me down the stairs and watched me grab my key ring from inside the purse he’d returned, although I couldn’t imagine what he wanted in the boathouse. We went out the front door, and I saw his white Cadillac parked at the curb. “No driver today?”

  “No.”

  No witness then. The words popped into my brain, unwelcome as a swarm of mosquitoes. He opened the passenger door for me, and I climbed in, letting him close it. I looked out the window, half tempted to make a run for it. Enzo slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “What is this about?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer. When I looked over at him, his profile was expressionless. Goddamn your handsome face and your silent games. If you’re angry about something, just yell it like I would! As crazy as Joey made me, at least I always knew where we stood.
<
br />   At the end of my street, Enzo turned into the alley and slowed down. My back stiffened when he put the car in park directly behind the store. “My family owns a construction company,” he said, putting his arm across the back of my seat.

  “Oh?” I glanced at his hand near my shoulder. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yes. Although in the construction business, you do just as much demolition as you do building.”

  My breath caught. Oh, no.

  “In fact, we demolished a few old houses last week to make way for a new apartment building. And we happened to have some extra explosives, but wouldn’t you know, we ran out of storage space.”

  Chills broke out over my entire body. “Enzo. Don’t.”

  “So I arranged to store some explosives beneath this building right here,” he said, pointing toward the store.

  “Please,” I begged, turning to him. “Why are you doing this?”

  He grabbed the back of my head again, forcing my face closer to his. “You wanted to fuck me last night? Well, you did.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The hearses, Tiny. The fucking hearses. I saw them in the garage that night. I know they belong to your father. Then the next time I hear about them, they’re full of booze that belongs to me, being driven by the men who stole it.”

  Those fucking hearses. I hated them! Why hadn’t I thought about that when I gave them to Sam? “Those hearses could belong to anyone. Daddy sells them to bootleggers all the time.”

  “They were yours, Tiny. Now who was it? Sam Scarfone? Is he working for you? Are you fucking him too?” With the last sentence, he tightened his grip on my hair.

  I winced. “No! Goddammit, Enzo, you’re hurting me! Let me go.”

  “Why should I? So you can run to Sam and tell him everything?” But he let go of my hair, and I rubbed my scalp as tears began to drip down my cheeks. “Well, here’s something you might not know. My father was going to give me the club,” he went on, looking straight ahead. “And turn the bootlegging over to me. So I arrange this big shipment from the east coast, fifteen thousand dollars worth of rum, packed in cases with hidden compartments, in which is stored forty thousand dollars worth of opium. And then it’s fucking hijacked.” He hit the wheel with the heel of his hand. “Now my father is furious and thinks I’m goddamn incompetent. We’re out more than fifty grand, I’m in the middle of another whisky deal with a distillery in Kentucky that I can no longer fucking afford, and I’m left here with my dick in my hand while your boys enjoy the spoils.” He looked over at me. “So where is it?”

  His eyes had a savage look in them I’d only seen once before, when he was nearly uncontrollable with lust in the office. But it wasn’t lust now; it was rage. And if I wasn’t careful, he was going to direct it not only at me, but at my family too. “I don’t know,” I said weakly. “I didn’t steal it, please believe me. And I had no idea about the opium.”

  “Goddammit, Tiny!” He thumped the steering wheel again. “I’ve been up front with you.”

  “No, you haven’t!” I yelled, forgetting about being careful. “What about going behind my back to Al Murphy? Asking whom I supplied and then stealing his business from under me! You knew I needed it to get the ransom money.”

  Enzo looked out the front window again. “When my father saw the ledgers, he wanted Murphy’s business, so I arranged it. And that’s fucking peanuts compared to my shipment.”

  “Oh, poor you! Well, I don’t have it.”

  Suddenly he put the car into reverse and backed up, the tires spitting gravel. When he turned onto Jefferson, I knew where we were headed.

  “It’s not there,” I told him. Please, please, God, let them not have anything stored in the boathouse. Let them have taken it all to Chicago.

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

  Worry wasn’t the word for what was going on inside me. I was sweating as if I’d run ten miles, my heart hammering against my chest like it might split my body wide open. As the Cadillac bumped along the dirt road leading down to the water, I grabbed onto the dash to steady myself. Enzo turned off the engine and got out; reluctantly, I opened the passenger door and trailed him to the boathouse door.

  “Open it,” demanded Enzo.

  My fingers fumbled with the padlock, and I recalled how he’d snuck in before. “You don’t need me to open this. Why did you drag me here?”

  “Maybe I like your company.”

  I froze and looked at him, but his face still betrayed no emotion. Once I had the padlock in my hands, Enzo pushed the door open.

  “After you.”

  I stepped into the cool, damp space and looked into every shadowy corner, my body shuddering with relief—nothing but the forty bottles of whisky I’d left on Tuesday. “I told you it wasn’t here. That whisky’s mine.”

  Enzo examined the cases and faced me. “I’m going to ask you some questions, Tiny. And you’re going to answer them. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, the tears returning. Is he wearing his gun? Will he pull it on me? Glancing toward the open door, I wondered how long it would take someone to find my body in here.

  “I want to know who hijacked me and where they took the load. I want to know how you knew about it and who pulled the raid alarm at the club.”

  I gaped at him. “The raid wasn’t real?”

  “No, it was merely a distraction.” He paused. “Almost as good as the one you presented me with.”

  “That wasn’t a distraction! I mean, I didn’t plan that! You’re the one who had the idea to go upstairs.”

  “Just answer my questions.”

  “I…I can’t.” Naming names meant certain death—for me, for Joey, for everyone.

  “I don’t want to threaten you, but you’re not giving me a choice here.” Enzo unbuttoned his coat and reached inside.

  I threw both hands out toward him. “No, wait! Please—no gun. I’ll tell you…what I know.”

  He waited, the arm still inside his coat. “I’m listening.”

  “The load went to Chicago,” I blurted. That wasn’t really giving up a name, was it?

  “And who took it there?”

  “I—I’m not sure…”

  “Goddammit. Listen to me, Tiny.” He came at me, but instead of pulling his gun, he wrapped his hands around my skull and squeezed. Hard, as if he could crush the words from my brain. “I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re making me fucking crazy, day and night. Tell me what you know.” In the silence that followed I heard birds chirping outside the door, and the sound was so incongruous I thought maybe I was delirious.

  Should I give up Sam’s name? Enzo already suspected he was behind the heist, as did the cops. And my loyalty was to Joey, not Sam. “Sam Scarfone bought the hearses from me. I needed the money to make the first payment to your father.” I spit out the words quickly, breathing deeply afterward but feeling as if I couldn’t get enough air, like it was my lungs he was compressing instead of my head.

  Enzo nodded. “How did he know about the load? Did you tell him?”

  “No! I don’t know how he found out.” That was the truth, at least.

  “No one but family and a few trusted men knew when it was coming. That means there’s a leak, Tiny. And I want to know who it is. You’re going to find out.”

  Just like that, I thought of another name I didn’t mind giving up. “Wait, I think I know who it was—your brother.”

  “What? Raymond?” His brow wrinkled in confusion.

  “Yes.” No need to mention I’d played a role in the relaying of information. “He’s jealous of you. He told me at the bar last night he was going to make his move. I guess this was it.”

  Enzo released my head from his hands. “Raymond. That idiot.” He looked away from me, staring at the floor. “What the fuck is he thinking?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me much.” I glanced toward the door again—I wanted to get out of here. Molly was probably sick with worry, and I n
eeded to get Bridget, Mary Grace and the boys out of her apartment. “Are you going to remove the dynamite from the store?”

  He looked at me again. “There’s nothing there. Yet. But my father is unpredictable. I asked him to wait before doing anything, and he gave me this afternoon to speak with you, but that’s it.” Then he took out his wallet and handed me three hundred-dollar bills. “Take this, give it to your sisters and tell them to leave town. They aren’t safe.”

  I reached for it automatically, shaking my throbbing head back and forth. He was helping me again? “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand you at all—you kidnap my father, you come on to me, you steal business from me, you…do what you did to me, you lie and threaten me, and now this!” I held up the money. “It makes no sense!”

  He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me toward him. “Like I said, you drive me fucking crazy.” Before I could protest, he kissed me hard on the lips. Then he let me go and turned toward the whisky. “Now let’s get these bottles into my trunk.”

  #

  As soon as Enzo dropped me off, I ran into the house and up the stairs. I found Molly cowering on the floor in her closet, arms wrapped around her legs. When I pulled her up, she burst into tears and threw her arms around me. “I was so scared,” she sobbed. “What’s going on?”

  “Shhhhh.” I held her, patting her back and stroking her hair. “It’s all right. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to you.” After a moment she stilled, and I sat her down on the bed next to me. “Good girl. Now I need your help.” Taking her hands, I told her that Daddy had gotten in over his head at the tables, and I was helping him cover the debt. “But until I pay these men, they’ll keep threatening us.”

  “It’s too dangerous!” she cried. “You could be hurt.”

  I squared my shoulders. “Listen. I can handle this. You can help me.”