“Well?” he asked as I sat rigidly in the wooden chair, my handbag clutched tightly in my trembling hands. “I suspect that you are only here because you’ve made up your mind?”
“I have.” I swallowed loudly and nodded once, more to myself than to the detective. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you get Basso.”
Detective Emerson struggled to keep his expression neutral but I saw the way his eyes lit up and the slight twitch of his mouth as I worked to conceal his smile.
“Well, I must say, Miss MacClare, you surprised me,” he admitted, getting to his feet and coming round the desk. “I rather thought you would decline.”
I stood as well, my expression serious.
I expect to regret it. “I’m not doing this lightly, sir,” I told him somberly. I suddenly felt decades older. “And I want to be clear and for you to understand that I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Mimi.”
He nodded again, solemnity in his expression now. “I understand,” he replied.
“Good.” I made for the door. “What would you have me do? Where and when do I start?”
Detective Emerson eased his hip onto his desk and folded his arms over his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles as he considered.
“Go to the Golden Sparrow whenever you feel ready,” he said after a long moment. “And you may work on a different personality, but we know that Basso doesn’t choose the same type of woman every time. Each has had their own quality that he likes. Mimi, for instance, was bright and warm. He’s had quieter ones—which I think he prefers. Those are the ones that tend to observe a great deal more and, from what we’ve gathered, they’re used to glean information from unsuspecting rivals and the like. So be bold or be observant. Just make sure you get his attention.”
I thought back to that night when he looked directly at me. He had already seen me, already knew who I was. Would that be a mark against me? Or would it help my case?
“I’ll do my best,” I promised. I wrapped my hand around the doorknob but didn’t twist it open. “When do I need to get there?”
“Once you’re certain you’ll be able to do this successfully,” Detective Emerson said, pushing away from his desk and pushing his hands in his trouser pockets, “then get over to the club. As I said, you’ll need to do this as soon as possible. We don’t want him to choose someone else over you. We’ll miss our opportunity and someone else will die.”
“I understand.” I opened the door. “Good afternoon, detective.”
He dipped his head and I stepped out of his passed, passed through the busy stationhouse, and back out onto the bustling streets of the city.
I had just started back for home when I stopped in my tracks, much to the displeasure of everyone behind me, and strode instead towards the street.
Flagging down a taxi, I sat back in the seat and watched the city pass by until the car pulled up to a stop before Carnegie Hall.
It was time, I told myself grimly. I couldn’t put it off any longer and I wouldn’t. I didn’t care if Mama would be furious with me. I didn’t care what Mr. Carrow said. I didn’t want to play in concert halls anymore. I didn’t want to party all night for the rest of my life, either, but for now, I needed to let go of the past. I needed to be brave and embrace who I was becoming, and that was someone who didn’t know what she wanted out of life.
Taking a deep, bracing breath as I stood before the imposing building, I straightened my back, pushed my shoulders back, and walked with my head high inside the concert hall.
Mr. Levinson looked more than a little surprised to see me, but he obliged when I asked to see Mr. Carrow.
He looked me up and down, his disdain for me obvious, but I ignored him. After today, I wouldn’t have to see him again.
Nerves had me twisting my hands painfully before me as I waited impatiently for Mr. Levinson to return with Mr. Carrow.
He trailed slightly behind Mr. Levinson, dressed precisely in his suit, his gray hair parted as severely as ever. He seemed surprised to see me but greeted me warmly all the same.
“I see you received my message,” he said, shaking my hand. He looked regretful. “I must beg your pardon.”
I frowned slightly. Message?
“I am sure you understand, of course,” Mr. Carrow went on and my frown only deepened. “It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, but your mother agreed that it was, perhaps, for the best.”
“I don’t—”
“Replacing you wasn’t an easy task,” Mr. Carrow said and I felt my jaw drop open in surprise. “But we managed it. And what with your busy schedule, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to get a reprieve.”
“Oh.” I stared blankly at a spot just above his left shoulder and tried to understand my emotions. “Right.”
Relief, but pain as well, at his words. Shock and confusion. A hint of betrayal that my mother had gone behind my back and made arrangements with Mr. Carrow without first consulting me. What else had she done without my knowledge, I wondered.
“You see, we must be certain that our performers are going to be able to give it their all and provide an evening of unparalleled entertainment. Frankly, Miss MacClare, I haven’t felt that you would be a good suit for this hall, but Mrs. MacClare had convinced me otherwise.” He shifted slightly, his eyes searching my face. “And what with your recent tragedy, perhaps you should focus your attention on that and not this hall.”
“Right,” I said again, feeling slightly numb.
I had wanted my withdrawing to be on my own terms, but now I looked like a child begging for a chance. I closed my left hand into a fist and let myself feel the pain of my nails digging into my palm before I spoke again.
“I apologize for wasting your time, sir.”
Spinning on my heel, I marched from the hall, head high despite the crushing feeling in my chest, and back out into the streets.
The sun was streaming down around the buildings, warming my skin. May was approaching and spring finally seemed to have beaten winter back.
Despite my irritation at my mother having beaten me to Mr. Carrow, I couldn’t deny that it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and listened to the sounds of the city—my city—of the roaring automobiles and buses, of the idle conversations of the people passing by me. I heard the birds twittering as they flew overhead, listened to the new leaves in the small trees that lined the city sidewalks rustling in the light breeze.
Opening my eyes, I forced myself not to look back and made my way home.
I sat in my chair, book open in my lap, as my mother sat quietly across from me. Her gaze didn’t leave my face, but I refused to meet it.
“I know I should have talked to you first,” Mama began in a level voice, “but I thought you had a lot to deal with. I’m sure you understand.”
“Mmm.”
My eyes dropped down to the book but did not see the words printed on the pages.
“You’re not... angry with me?” Mama queried.
“Oh, I am,” I said, looking up at her. “But I was going there to tell him I wanted out anyways. You just beat me to the punch.”
Mama shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“You should have talked to me first,” I said. “But it’s done now, so there’s no point in arguing.”
“I just thought that, what with Mimi’s death and the police talking to you, you needed time to process everything.”
I closed my book and set it aside before getting to my feet. Mama’s eyes followed my every motion.
I shrugged carelessly, which only seemed to anger her a little.
“I only did it because I was worried about you, Hazel.” Mama got to her feet and made to step towards me but I moved out of her reach and moved instead over to the table of photographs.
Staring down at Papa, I said, “You never wanted me to play there anyways. All you care about is getting me married before I’m twenty.”
“Hazel,” Mama said with a
sigh but I shook my head.
“And it’s alright,” I assured her, still staring down at Papa’s open, smiling face. “I don’t want to play the piano for people anymore.” I don’t want to play at all. I turned to face her. “But you had no right pulling me out of the concert without my consent. Yes, Mimi is dead and yes, I was a witness to it. But I am still alive and I still have things I want to do.” I still have a life to live.
Mr. Hayes strode in at that moment and I turned immediately towards the sitting room door, anxious to be alone.
“Oh, sorry if I’m intruding,” he said, looking awkward as he glanced between me and my mother. “I can wait out in the hall.”
“Don’t bother,” I said, forcing a smile to my lips. “After all, our family drama will now be your drama. Do try not to be afraid.”
Slipping by him, I started for the stairs but stopped at the foot of them when I heard my name.
“I don’t know what to do about her anymore,” I heard Mama sigh. “She hasn’t been the same since that night.”
“Hazel saw things we can only guess at,” Mr. Hayes reasoned. “You’ll have to give her time.”
“But she isn’t the same, Anthony,” Mama said. “She hasn’t played the piano in weeks. She found out I pulled her from the concert and she wasn’t even that upset! That was her dream when she was a child. It was her dream last month, even. And now? Now she’s just this shadow of what she used to be.”
“She saw her best friend get murdered,” Mr. Hayes reminded her and I put my foot on the bottom stair, ready to pull myself up to my room, but still, I stayed where I was, listening. “Give her time. She’ll come back.”
“Will she?” Mama chuckled sadly. “I’m not so sure. Going to speakeasies? I never thought my daughter would be a flapper.”
“Yes.” Mr. Hayes exhaled loudly. “I’m not sure I can condone that.”
“And what happens if she ends up like Mimi’s sister?” Mama wondered. “What will I do with her then?”
“You already threatened to disown her,” Mr. Hayes said. “Maybe you should.”
My blood began to boil and I used that rage to propel myself up the stairs and into my room where I hurled myself onto my bed, my eyes fixed blazingly up at the ceiling. The sunlight was glinting off a lamp and casting colored light across the ceiling.
Mama thought I would end up like Leah. I nearly laughed at that. Mama must have low opinions of me.
Of course she would, a small voice in the back of my mind said. You were at a speakeasy when Mimi was killed. What else is she supposed to think? You’re a flapper.
And it was time to own it.
Chapter 12
I stood outside the door to the Golden Sparrow several days after my meeting with Detective Emerson, trembling with a mixture of fear and nerves. I had no idea how I was going to get Basso’s attention and that had been why I had simply decided to just go for it. Time was running out and I needed to get in with him. For Mimi’s sake, I had to.
Frankie had been on my mind a lot since I had agreed and I wanted desperately to tell him, but I had no idea how to even broach the topic. I didn’t know how to explain it and I doubted he would understand. He had an idea of what Basso was like and would try and talk me out it. I was worried he would succeed and so I had opted to keep him in the dark.
At least for now, I reminded myself as I straightened the necklace—Mimi’s necklace—and lifted my hand to the door.
I could hear music and laughter on the other side and took a deep, steadying breath. I could do this.
Knocking on the door, I stood back and waited. Five knocks, just like Mimi had done.
To my immense relief, the door swung open to admit me and I stepped boldly inside.
Now that I was inside, my heart began to thud painfully against my ribcage, a mixture of fear and adrenaline propelling me forward.
Glancing automatically towards the stage, I found an unfamiliar band performing and looked away. A large part of me was disappointed that it wasn’t Frankie and his brothers, but the other part was relieved. I wouldn’t have to explain myself just yet.
The club seemed different somehow, as if it had lost some of its appeal since Mimi had died. But I ignored that and looked around the crowded club.
Smoothing down the front of my dress, a dazzling deep, rich blue thing with a drop waist with beads and sequins that made it glitter under the lights. And after I ordered my drink, I stepped out of habit towards Mimi’s table—only to find it already occupied.
I had been so used to always having that particular table at my disposal that finding it otherwise engaged was disconcerting.
But of course, I reminded myself as I slid into an empty booth near Mimi’s table, eyes on fixed on it, of course Basso would fill the vacancy Mimi’s death had left as soon as he could. A little flutter of panic had me clutching my drink as I prayed that he hadn’t decided on who would be his next victim just yet.
I stared at the pair sitting at Mimi’s table, not caring if they noticed me watching or not.
Basso was, as I had always seen him, handsomely put together. Not a single strand of his black hair was out of place and his suit was immaculate and crisply cut. But he was bored and I could tell by the way his eyes roved restlessly around the club. The woman sitting across from him, it seemed, was not enough to hold his attention.
Dropping my eyes to my sidecar, my heart hammering, I tried not to think about what I was about to get myself into.
But it was for Mimi, I reminded myself firmly. It was only for her.
Be brave. Be bold.
Mustering up all the courage I had, I lifted my glass to my lips and took a sip. My hand was trembling slightly but I forced it to still. And then I slowly lifted my gaze to Basso.
He wasn’t looking. The woman had pulled him back in and I felt myself sag a little in relief. I still had time.
Lowering my glass, I made myself look bored. Drumming my fingers on the table in a forced, disjointed rhythm despite their trembling, I used my other hand to prop my chin up. Then, to add color to my charade, I tossed anxious glances over my shoulder to the door to make it appear as if I were expecting someone.
Frankie.
Basso had seen us together plenty of times. If he decided to take the bait and choose me, he would surely ask me about him. And I would have to lie.
When I felt brave enough, I ran a finger around the rim of my glass then stole another glance at Basso—and found him watching me.
His expression was puzzled, as if he couldn’t quite work me out. But when I met his gaze head on, recognition flitted across his features and his head tilted to the side.
My heart skittered, missing a beat or two, then stuttered back into its usual rhythm by the time Basso shifted his attention back to the woman with him.
Waiting a beat, making sure he would catch the motion, I looked back over my shoulder then turned back around, my eyes fixed firmly on my half-empty sidecar. I would need to get another, but I didn’t want to lose his interest.
I could feel his gaze on me, but I kept mine on my drink. Something told me to wait, to see if he was interested enough to speak to me.
Lifting my eyes slightly and finding him still watching, I jerked my chin out in quiet defiance and locked gazes with him. It seemed to surprise him a little. Then, moving with careful movements, I slowly lifted my sidecar to my lips and drained it without once breaking eye contact with him.
Setting the empty glass back down, feeling a great deal braver now, I cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked, as if asking what he was looking at. Then I got to my feet and returned to the bar for another drink.
God, I hoped I was doing it right. I had no idea how Mimi had managed to hook him in and I knew I would never know what she was like with him when I wasn’t around.
It stung me to know that there had been a whole other side to her that I would never know. I had told her everything, had poured my heart and soul out to her for the past six years. Kno
wing now that she hadn’t been as honest with me as I had been with her cast a shadow on the memories I had of us, shrouding them with bitterness and jealousy. I was bitter at her for not confiding her darker secrets and jealous that others had gotten to know a different side of her.
My fresh sidecar had just been passed to me when a dark mad sidled up beside me, his thick, coarse black hair gleaming with perspiration under the lights. His rich brown eyes were round and curious as he looked me up and down. I sensed a note of hesitation when I moved to face him and, as I took a sip, fixed him with an expectant look.
Leaning casually against the bar, I smiled at him as I asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”
The man looked slightly uncomfortable and even glanced anxiously over his shoulder before turning back to me. “I was told to offer you a drink on the house.”
I raised my eyebrows as I took another sip.
“Well, I already have one,” I replied, my eyes shooting unconsciously towards Basso who, I observed with a note of satisfaction, was watching our exchange closely.
“Your next one, then,” the man offered eagerly.
“I’m not sure there will be a next one,” I confessed with a sad sigh. Am I doing this right? “I was supposed to be meeting a friend here tonight, but he hasn’t shown.”
“Maybe I can introduce you to someone else, then,” the man suggested, sounding hopeful as he took a step back from the bar in an attempt to lead me towards Basso.
“And which one is he?” I asked, making myself sound bored.
The man jerked his head in Basso’s direction.
“He said he’d love to officially meet you,” the man informed me.
So he did recognize me.
I openly stared at Basso, who was now completely ignoring the woman and watching me.
“Surely his date’ll be offended,” I said, turning back to the man before me.
The man shrugged carelessly. “He doesn’t like her much.”
“How rude.” I looked back at Basso. “Then perhaps he should tell her rather than stringing her along.”
The Golden Sparrow Page 16
