We wanted to take advantage of the ridiculously dreamy vehicle, so we asked the driver to take us around a bit before heading to East 54th Street and the Elmo. We drove toward downtown and as we neared 42nd, I looked way up to see my favorite building glistening in the moonlight, the Chrysler Building. We cut over to the west side and went through Times Square with all its lights running and blinking with vigorous color and speed. I’d lived here almost fifteen years and it was still a thrill to enjoy the city, to soak it up and jump into the swirling energy that swept you up like a swift river.
We arrived at the Elmo and the driver came around to open my door. There was always a lineup of celebrities and society bigwigs. I glimpsed a Vanderbilt and one of the younger Rockefellers. Was it David? We were the impetus for quite a few head turns.
I looked at Finn and a fleeting look of being in over his head raced across his face.
“How ya doin’, big guy?” I asked with more than a hint of teasing in my voice.
The detective who was a professional at working undercover mastered his face and his courage and gave me a wink. “I’m great, love. But, uh . . . let’s get a drink on the double.” I noticed his Irish brogue that took over when he was preoccupied was nice and pronounced.
We went to the bar and Finn ordered his favorite martini with a twist and I asked for a glass of champagne. Finn turned to me and said, “Shall we nod to France?”
“Absolutely! Here’s to Mr. Churchill, a night out in a Rolls, and my fabulous shoes!”
We clinked glasses and after a sip, he said, “That was quite a trip to London, eh? You know I heard from Grandma Vivian, love. They found both Sean and Gwen guilty of attempted murder. Viv hasn’t spoken with my parents. They’ve dropped off the map for a while to avoid the scandal, I assume.”
“How does it feel to have faced your ghosts? It’s been a long reckoning,” I said, putting my hand on his arm.
“I feel . . . lighter, I think. I’d felt separated from it all for quite some time. But I also think I’d carried around the weight of Sean’s deception. Thank God Viv believed me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.”
“She’s something else, all right. I miss her.”
There was no floor show at the El Morocco, the glittering patrons were the main focus with their furs, jewels, and dazzling dresses. I heard that some of the more famous and flamboyant women had their maids bring them a change of furs to the ladies’ room at El Morocco so they could enjoy a costume change. The band started up a new song and it was one I loved.
Before I could say anything, Finn took my hand and said, “Come on! Let’s dance.”
We walked out to the dance floor. The live music pulsated through the air, bringing people to their feet, forgetting conversations and cares, joining hands and joining in the mass of humanity that were all part of the same song, the same dance.
With long dresses, most of us couldn’t do as many steps with fancy footwork, but we swished and swayed across the glossy black floor. The famous zebra-striped material lined every inch of the endless settee that circled the room as well as all the chairs. At a glance in the Tribune, you instantly recognized the Elmo from that zebra print. The walls were midnight blue with indirect lighting and skyward reaching palm trees that completed the iconic and exotic feel.
After he twirled me and brought me in close, I asked Finn, “Have you seen any of Venetti’s men or Venetti himself?”
“Nope. Not a one. But on Valentine’s Day, there is quite a crowd.”
I nodded. “I think he’ll be here. It may be late, but this is the place to be. He always manages to be at every big Manhattan function, gathering information and meeting people. I think it will be worth a try. But even if he doesn’t show, this night is spectacular.”
After a couple of hours of delightful fun, tasty appetizers, and cocktails, Finn went to the men’s room and I walked toward our little table along the side of the dance floor. The security was tight, so I could keep my fur stole across the back of the chair and my darling little handbag on the seat. Just before I got to the table, someone grabbed my arm and forcefully pulled.
“Charlie? Is that—”
I spun around, ready for a fight. I guess I’d had my arm grabbed one too many times. But before I could deter him, he quickly let go and sputtered, “Oh! Sorry, ma’am. I thought you were someone else. My apologies.” He disappeared into the crowd, leaving me mystified.
Finn appeared out of nowhere. “I thought you were going to the men’s room,” I said.
“Who was that?” he asked gruffly. “I turned around near the door and saw him grab your arm.”
I looked at my arm, and although it hadn’t hurt, there were red fingerprints. “Grrrrr,” Finn growled.
“That’s my line. And don’t worry, it didn’t hurt, he let go really fast. Mistaken identity, I guess. He apologized and ran off.”
“Hmph.”
“And that’s Kirkland’s line,” I said, coaxing a smile out of him. “Come on, let’s go get a Bad Romance—the drink—and you can leave me safely at the bar.”
I love a Bad Romance, and it’s got some oomph. I sipped at it and inhaled the scent of champagne, cranberry, and a dash of tequila and lime. At the men’s room hallway, Finn looked back at me and I waved to him, laughing. I shooed him away and took another sip.
That’s when a heavily muscled arm came around my waist and as its owner pulled me gently toward the dance floor he said, “Miss Sanders. We don’t have long. Let’s have a dance and a chat.”
My breath whooshed out of me as I recognized immediately that deep, gravelly voice, the salt ’n’ pepper hair and thick eyebrows, the raw power emanating from the man.
I swallowed and, trying not to squeak, I said, “Mr. Venetti. I was hoping to see you tonight.”
His eyebrows raised and his lips twitched. He muttered, “Of course.”
He gently took my right hand in his and delicately put his other hand on the small of my back. I’d always been aware of his power, and it was a feat of courage to not only be within arm’s length of the man, but within his actual grasp. We did a very respectable waltz. For being a brawny, sixty-something-year-old, he was light on his feet. His aftershave smelled spicy and expensive.
“Lane, my dear, there are mysteries afoot, as our Mr. Holmes likes to say.”
“You’re a reader?” I asked, somehow pleased.
“I am. I read almost anything I can get my hands on. I like to learn. I wanted to know what you found out about the Red Scroll Network and Daphne in England.”
This time, my eyebrows shot up. “You knew about that? Never mind. Of course you knew about that.”
“Mm, yes. We both have a vested interest in the dealings of that woman.”
I darted my eyes around, not knowing what exactly Finn would do if and when he found me dancing with the infamous gangster. Dancing with him hadn’t exactly been the plan. I knew I didn’t have much time.
I filled him in very quickly on everything we learned about Daphne being in London to make sure her newly found leadership was known, but it looked as if her business was focused more in the United States for the time being.
He nodded minutely as I spoke, his black orbs not missing a thing. “And you heard about the Crusher?” I asked, knowing he had. He nodded as I continued, “It was Daphne. She ran her car right into him.”
“Now that, I did not know,” he rumbled. It was quite clear that he didn’t like not knowing important details. My heart skipped a beat.
I cleared my throat, then said, “Yes. My partner—”
“Your partner?” he interrupted.
“Yeah, the investigative reporter I work with, Roarke Channing.” I narrowed my eyes as his lips twitched the tiniest bit.
He cleared his face and said, “Go on.”
I told him about Roarke catching up to Eugene Murk, and seeing him leaning into the car that might have been Daphne’s moments before she crashed into Crusher.
; Venetti was watchful, careful, patient, taking it all in. Then before I lost my courage, I asked him my question. “I’m sure you also know that I have a vested interest in the cop killers who took out our friend Peter. They’re in the pinball and slots business. I have an inkling that you’re not involved, but do you know anything?”
He spun me farther from the side of the dance floor where Finn would be sure to show up. I was surprised he’d been gone as long as he had. “Lane, my dear. As it’s Valentine’s Day, do you remember what happened on this night eight years ago?”
“I do,” I answered. “The Valentine’s Day Massacre in Chicago. Between the north side and south side gangs.”
“Exactly. Police had been involved, mostly gangsters dressed up as police, but also some crooked cops. Lane, anything to do with cops getting killed means bad business for me. The massacre made the public aware and determined. That kind of public outcry is never good for my dealings. So, no. I do not want that kind of attention.”
“I figured business was the bottom line for you, as usual. And besides, it doesn’t have your attention to detail. For that matter, it doesn’t have Daphne’s panache, either. Do you have any leads on who’s involved? If they’re bad for your business, perhaps you wouldn’t mind pointing me in the right direction?”
“Heh, heh, heh,” he chuckled. “You know, I wouldn’t mind having your kind of leadership on my team someday, Lane. You have excellent instincts.”
I was equally pleased and appalled.
“I’ll leave you with this: there’s more to that little deli by the Landmark Tavern than meets the eye. And more to the owner, as well. That’s all for now. Thank you for the lovely dance.”
He bowed slightly, and suddenly tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “You look so much like Charlie, Lane. That’s her dress, isn’t it?”
“Charlie? Someone else just called me that. Who’s Charlie?” I asked.
“Your mother. Charlotte. She loved that stole and if you’re not her spitting image . . . you say someone tonight mistook you for Charlie?” he asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously. I involuntarily took a small step backward.
“Yes. Just before you asked me for the dance, a man grabbed my arm. But he released it quickly when he realized he was mistaken.”
He rubbed his chin in thought, then nodded in decision. “Again, thank you for the dance, Lane. I’ll be in touch.” Louie Venetti walked away, disappearing into the crowd followed by his beefy bodyguards at a discreet distance.
“May I have this dance?”
“Finn!” I yelped. “God, you scared me!”
His arm came around me and pulled me close as a slower song began. A sultry number by Cole Porter.
“You were watching?” I asked as we danced cheek to cheek.
“Absolutely, love. You tend to have interesting things happen when I’m not watching. I wasn’t gone more than a minute and a half and found you dancing with Uncle Louie. I’d edged closer, but you didn’t look too alarmed and you’re right. He’s all about business. Another Valentine’s Day Massacre would not be good,” he said.
“He actually brought that up.” I filled him in on the information Venetti and I exchanged.
I pulled away to take a good look at Finn’s thoughtful countenance as he processed my conversation with the mob boss. He quickly nodded, having come to a conclusion. “Yeah. I can believe that.”
“You know, Finn. Something else interesting happened. You know when that guy grabbed my arm earlier? He’d called me Charlie, but I thought it was just a mistaken identity. Just now, when Venetti was leaving, he told me I looked just like Charlie.”
“What?” he asked incredulously. “Who’s Charlie?”
“My mom. Charlotte. I’ve never heard that nickname used for her.”
“Oh my God.”
“I know. Odd, isn’t it?” I said.
We didn’t stay much longer, feeling we’d learned and experienced all we could for the evening. As we made our way to the coat check to retrieve Finn’s overcoat, I spotted a tall, blue-green vision. She was all the way on the other side of the place, but I knew beyond a doubt it was Valerie.
Before I could make up my mind to go and say hello, Finn took my hand and led me to the door, as our chariot had arrived. That silver vision of Rolls Phantom loveliness settled my indecision. I left the Elmo feeling just a bit like Cinderella at the ball.
CHAPTER 54
We decided to get a nightcap on the way back to my place. We hit the Ophelia Lounge, the club at the top of the Beekman Tower that I’d wanted to introduce to Finn. The lounge used to be women only, but recently began allowing male patrons. The black-and-white tile floors, rooftop views, raspberry velvet settees, and delicious cocktails made it a favorite haunt of mine. Even in the winter, the tall glass windows allowed for an airy, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view.
We chose to sit at the bar. It was almost one in the morning, but there were quite a few people sprinkled around enjoying the glittering ambience. It was still early, the night just getting under way. I crossed my legs as I sat upon the stool and admired my white high heels again.
I ordered a red wine, wanting something smooth and mellow. When my glass came and Finn sipped his martini, I said, “Say, Finn, when we were walking out, did you see Valerie? I swear I saw her dancing. I can’t believe she was at the Elmo and didn’t tell me. I didn’t recognize her partner.”
“My mind was still on the fact that you had been dancing with Uncle Louie, but yes, I saw her. I’ve never seen that guy before, either.”
Valerie had looked very happy. Happier than I’d seen her look, perhaps ever. She hadn’t even glanced in my direction, she’d been so captivated by her partner. Her green eyes simply shone as she looked up at him. I didn’t recognize him, but I only had a view of his back and his dark hair. I’d have to ask her about it at work.
Just then, I saw a fabulous red dress go by. “Ooh, Finn! Look at that dress. I’d like that dress.”
“You’re drooling, love.”
“She’s about my size, a bit shorter. Similar hair to mine when I’m wearing it down,” I said as I contemplatively sipped my drink.
“What, are you considering stealing it right off her back?” he asked with a smirking lilt to his voice.
I snorted. “Maybe.”
Just then, as the elevator doors were closing and the girl in the red dress was walking by, someone grabbed her and yanked her into the elevator. I heard a yelp as the doors shut with finality. I also heard some grappling, which made me hopeful she was a fighter.
Finn and I both stood at the same time. We turned to each other and I slid off my fur stole so I wasn’t encumbered. “Lane, take the next elevator, it’s almost here.”
“Got it. You run down the stairs—I won’t make it in this dress.”
He ran off in a blur and I ran to the elevator. I brought one foot up to set on a chair, the side slit of my dress falling away to reveal my new thigh strap so I could easily retrieve my pearl dagger.
Two men looked at me and grinned. As the elevator door opened I said to them, “Luck favors the prepared, darling.”
I turned to the elevator operator and said, “On the double, don’t hit any floors. Go to the lobby, a girl’s been taken against her will.” He looked like he was about to argue, then he saw my knife and the door shut with a slam.
“Okay.”
The once-named Panhellenic building, now the Beekman Tower, was twenty-six stories. And even though we went right down, not stopping at any other floors, it felt interminable. I think after glimpsing my dagger and probably from my colorful muttering, the elevator operator looked relieved to have me run out the door as soon as he pulled open the sliding gate.
Finn hadn’t made it down yet. I raced to the front door; no doormen in sight. Just outside I glimpsed a flash of red. I ran out and spotted a man hauling the red dress gal down the sidewalk. It was freezing outside, and I spun around getting my bearings, trying to locate a
nyone who might be a good reinforcement.
No one. I had to do something before he got her into a car. The potential for rescue goes way down once forced into a vehicle.
I opted for a bit of a diversion. “Hey, mister! You dropped your wallet! You there!” I made sure I was nice and loud and noticeable. A few people turned the corner and were walking toward us. No villain liked anyone who was willing to make a fuss. They liked you nice and quiet and compliant. So my obvious gesticulations and noteworthy volume had him grunting with disapproval. Besides, despite our reputation, New Yorkers were very helpful and kind. The people who’d rounded the corner were now avidly looking our way, hoping to help the gentleman retrieve his wallet.
He turned around toward me. I had run a little closer, not daring to get within arm’s reach. He was too big to tackle, so I had to use my wits to knock him down. In the same attention-getting voice, I yelled, “Here you go! You dropped it inside the Beekman at Ophelia!”
He suddenly stopped in his tracks, took a good look at the gal in his grasp, then at me, then back at her.
“Uh-oh,” I said, not liking the look on his face.
He shoved the girl down to the sidewalk. The people had entered another establishment, and now we were alone on the dark street.
Finn burst out of the door, gun leveled. Despite his speed and what must have been a crazy run down the twenty-six flights, his hand was steady, his dark glare deadly.
“Don’t move.”
The guy put up his hands with a disgusted look as he spat on the ground. Finn went to him and said to me with a smirk, “Lane, hold this.”
He meant the gun. “Don’t look so pleased,” he muttered, as I took hold of the gun and pointed it nice and steady at the guy.
Finn took off his beautiful tie while he cocked an eyebrow at my sure hand holding the .38 special. The miscreant nodded his head condescendingly and said, “Young lady, do you really know how to use that?”
I cocked the revolver easily. “Yep.”
The Pearl Dagger Page 25
