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The Golden Sparrow

Page 21

by Samantha Latshaw


  I stowed the mirror and lipstick back into my handbag then leaned forward again, hand outstretched for Basso’s.

  He complied, letting me take his hand in mine.

  I knew Frankie would be looking, but I had to force myself not to care. I couldn’t let my feelings for Frankie ruin my efforts with Basso.

  Then Basso’s hand tightened painfully around mine and I had to resist the urge to rip my hand free, though I wasn’t able to stop the cry of shock that escaped my lips.

  I locked eyes with him—and nearly shrank back in fear at the darkness I saw lurking there.

  “Just as you are far more fascinating than your little friend,” Basso said with dangerous softness.

  Mimi.

  My pulse was erratic now and I was certain Basso could feel it against his fingers as he clutched my hand, his fingertips pressed against the inside of my wrist.

  “I will take that as a compliment,” I managed to get out, struggling to keep my voice even. “Mimi was quite a colorful person. To be more fascinating than her is something I consider to be quiet a feat.”

  Basso narrowed his eyes slightly but relinquished his grip on me.

  Though I wanted to pull my hand back to the safety my lap offered, I knew it would betray my fear of him, so I slowly retracted it, letting it rest beside my drink while Basso drummed his fingers against the table as he clicked his tongue in obvious boredom.

  The Corcoran Brothers struck up a lively tune and, without giving it much thought other than shake his suspicion, I leapt to my feet and held out my hand to Basso, who stared back at me in obvious surprise.

  With my hand outstretched, my eyes daring him, I said, “Dance with me.”

  Chapter 15

  “The wedding is in three week, Hazel,” Mama reminded me, clearly exasperated with my disinterest as we sat across from each other the following evening after supper.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald’s newest book that I had purchased months ago but had never had a moment to read sat open on my lap. I hadn’t made much progress on it, either. I’d been trying to read it for at least an hour but I hadn’t made it very far. I’d been staring at the same word while my mind wandered off into the dark memories of the atrocities I had been forced to witness.

  I blinked and watched James jam the knife into Lorenzo De Luca’s chest and I had to squeeze my eyes shut in the hope that the image would disappear. It didn’t.

  “Hazel?” Mama asked, her voice sounding as though it was coming from far away. I slid my eyes open slowly to look at her. “Are you even listening to me?”

  No. I blinked again, racking my brain for whatever it was she had said and landed on the wedding.

  “Yes,” I replied after a long pause. “You were talking about your wedding to Anthony Hayes, which is in three weeks. Am I right?”

  Mama’s eyes narrowed. “And are you able to attend?” she asked coolly. “You’re gone so often these days that I wonder if I even have a daughter.”

  “Mama.” I sighed as her jab sank under my ribs to my heart. If only she knew what I was actually doing. She wouldn’t approve, of course, and she’d be out for Detective Emerson’s blood, but at least she would know.

  Closing The Great Gatsby, I set it aside and picked up my coffee but didn’t drink it, my eyes fixed on the dark liquid.

  “I just... I can’t stand to be home right now.”

  Now it was Mama’s turn to sigh.

  “I know that you still mourn for Mimi,” she said and I lifted my eyes to her. A sudden and unfamiliar wave of anger washed over me that I quickly squashed down. “I know you went through a truly terrible time, seeing her like that. But you can’t hide away forever. You’ve got to face life again.” She leaned forward, her expression gentle. “Why don’t you play the piano again? I’m sure it’ll give you some comfort.”

  I couldn’t keep my rage down. It burst forward, its scorching hot fingers radiating from somewhere deep in my belly and stretching out to my limbs as I glared at Mama.

  I had loved Mimi. Deeply. I couldn’t just ‘get over it’. Couldn’t Mama understand? Didn’t she go through the same thing with Papa?

  I loved her. “Mimi was the closest thing to a sister I had,” I said furiously and Mama sat back in her chair, her expression carefully blank. “And it just so happens that I also saw her dead, her throat slashed ear to ear. Forgive me, Mama, but I don’t think I can simply go back to being the girl who wanted to play in concert halls. I’m not a child anymore.”

  With that, I shot to my feet and stormed off to my room, slamming my bedroom door shut behind me before I dropped onto my bed, my face pressed into the covers.

  I loved her. I had loved Mimi, more than I had loved anyone else in my life, aside from my parents.

  Outside, the moon was passing through large, starched clouds and I knew a storm was brewing. But I couldn’t stay inside. It was my night free of Basso, to simply be whoever I was now that Mimi was gone, but all I wanted was to get away from home.

  Keeping the dress I had worn for dinner on, an emerald and black dress glittering with beads, I quickly rouged my cheeks and painted my lips before snatching up my black beaded handbag and darting out of my room.

  I was out of the house before Mama even had a clue I had left.

  Pushing Mimi to the back of my mind, I walked towards the busier street up the block and flagged down a taxi.

  I tried not to think about how reckless it was to show up, unannounced—and potentially unwanted—to the Golden Sparrow, but being around my mother was stifling. And though I was loathe to admit it, Basso offered me something akin to fresh air.

  As I climbed out of the taxi ten minutes later, I took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer that Basso wouldn’t mind me surprising him. I prayed that he took it as taking initiative and that I wanted to help.

  After giving the required five knocks, I stepped inside and took a moment to take everything in before stepping over to the bar.

  A quick scan as I waited for my drink told me that Basso wasn’t at his table, but I didn’t let it deter me.

  I offered the bartender a wide smile over the rim of my cocktail glass and moved towards Mimi’s vacant table to wait.

  Settling into the chair, glass to my lips and eyes on the dark hallway, I waited.

  As I drummed my fingers restlessly on the scarred wooden table, I tried not to dwell on the fact that I was actually impatient to see him.

  Don’t get roped in.

  “Hazel?”

  Starting, I looked up and saw Leo standing beside me, his expression full of surprise.

  “Leo!” I exclaimed, getting to my feet to greet him. I nearly pulled him into a hug before I reminded myself that I barely knew him and that we were in a crowded club full of people who could easily let it slip to Basso that I had been overly friendly with him. I settled instead for a simple handshake and then motioned for him to sit.

  “I can’t stay too long,” he said as he sank into the chair opposite me, “but when I saw you walk in, I couldn’t help but want to talk to you.”

  I smiled at him, which seemed to ease some tension he had been holding in his shoulders. I watched them relax as I lifted my sidecar to my lips.

  “How have you been?” I asked him, genuinely concerned.

  He shrugged. “Alright, I guess. It hasn’t exactly been the same without Mimi and she’s not someone that can be replaced, you know?” he asked, giving me a sad smile.

  I nodded. “No,” I said, “she isn’t.”

  We sat in silence for a few more minutes before Leo said, “Have you seen Frankie lately? I saw Connor the other night at the Red Clover down in Lower Manhattan and he said Frankie’s been miserable. Something about how you two seemed to have broken up.”

  Looking away, I swallowed down a hard lump and said, “No, I haven’t seen him.”

  “What happened?” Leo wondered. “You two seemed mad for each other.”

  “We were,” I said, my eyes averted from his. “A
nd I still care a lot about him. But we had a bit of a... disagreement and he won’t speak to me now.”

  Leo sighed heavily and leaned against the table. When he spoke again, his voice lowered.

  “Does this happen to have anything to do with the fact that you’ve been seen hanging around with Mr. Basso?”

  My head shot up and my eyes narrowed with barely contained fury. Had Frankie spoken to him? Was he going to try and tell me that I was stupid for getting myself involved with police business just as Frankie had?

  Leo’s hands shot up in surrender, his expression innocent and open.

  “Connor mentioned that, too,” he said quickly. “He thinks you threw Frankie over for Basso and that’s why you won’t come around anymore. Frankie apparently told him it was a mutual understanding between the two of you.”

  I snorted and glanced away.

  “It isn’t much of Connor’s business what happened between me and Frankie,” I said after a long while. “But he isn’t entirely wrong.”

  Part of me desperately wanted to tell Leo what I was doing and why I was being seen hanging around Basso, but I couldn’t put him in danger like that and nor could I risk my words getting back to Basso. And in any case, I doubted Leo would even understand what I was doing, even if I explained that it was for Mimi. Basso was the reason Leo didn’t have Mimi, after all.

  “Well,” Leo said, pushing himself to his feet, his dark eyes warm, “I hope you work it out soon. You were great together.”

  “Maybe,” I said then frowned slightly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What are you doing here?” My brow was knitted with confusion. I hadn’t seen him around the club since Mimi had died and even told him as much.

  “Oh.” He coughed, looking uncomfortable. “I’m actually here because—”

  But at that exact moment, I watched Judd emerge from the dark hallway, his dark skinned shiny with sweat.

  “I need to go,” I said vaguely, getting to my feet. “It’s been wonderful to see you again, Leo. I hope we’ll see each other soon.”

  I heard Leo ask what was wrong, but I ignored him, my eyes fixed in Judd.

  Leo turned to see where I was looking then turned back to me, but I still wasn’t paying him much attention.

  “I doubt you’ll be allowed.” There was a definite note of bitterness in his voice, but I pushed by him and made my way over to Judd.

  Judd was already making his way towards me, wiping his brow with his sleeve as he approached.

  “Miss Hazel?” He looked around anxiously. “Wh-what are you doing here? Basso didn’t send for you.”

  I shrugged, trying to look careless. “I wanted to get away from my mother and wedding planning for a bit,” I answered honestly. “I didn’t think Mr. Basso would mind much.”

  Judd glanced over his shoulder at the closed door that led to the back room, clearly nervous.

  “I-I don’t know, Miss Hazel,” he said dubiously. “Mr. Basso’s extremely busy tonight. He doesn’t want to be disturbed. I only stepped out to get some fresh air.”

  “But why?” I couldn’t help but wonder. What was happening that even Judd, who I assumed had witnessed a great deal of horrors behind that closed door than anyone else, couldn’t bear to witness? “He’s busy every night. What’s so different about tonight? Surely he wouldn’t mind me surprising him, would he?”

  Judd looked lost but had enough wherewithal put a hand on my arm to stop me.

  “Miss Hazel, I think it’s best if you just leave,” he said, his tone urgent. But I pulled my arm free and sidestepped him, making straight for the door.

  “I’ve seen everything there is to see, Judd,” I said to him over my shoulder. He was hot on my heels and was still attempting to stop me, but I refused to be deterred. I knew that what was going on in the back room was terrible enough to get Basso in a great deal of trouble, even possibly arrested. That meant that, if I see it—and his undercover men did, too—then Detective Emerson could finish it once and for all.

  And I would come out of it alive.

  Or at least, that’s what I told myself as I twisted the doorknob and stepped inside. What could possibly be so bad that even I couldn’t see it?

  But the sight that greet me made me lurch to a stop as ice flooded my veins.

  A young woman was hanging by the ceiling, bound by her wrists, her whole body limp. Her long blonde hair was loose and matted with blood as it hung in damp strings around her face. She had been stripped down to her undergarments and every inch of exposed skin was carved with deep, angry cuts that bled profusely. Whatever skin wasn’t cut was discolored with fresh bruises.

  She lifted her head slightly at my entrance and I watched as hope sprang to life in her dull eyes.

  There weren’t many people in the room. Basso, of course, and his three favorite cronies: James, Al, and Robert. There were a couple of other men, too. One I recognized as Clyde, but the other I wasn’t sure. I thought his name might have been Ralph, but couldn’t be certain.

  Everyone whirled around at our entrance and Basso stepped quickly in front of the hanging woman, but it was too late. I had already seen.

  “What are you doing here?” Basso demanded angrily as Judd hastily shut the door behind us. It only succeeded in bringing fury down on him as Bass tired his fiery gaze to him. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

  “I tried!” Judd swore, stepping forward slightly as if to shield me. “But she wouldn’t listen, sir, and she got here before I could.”

  Basso was inches away from both of us now. His eyes flicked between my face and Judd’s. Then his hand struck out as he backhanded Judd hard.

  Judd stood his ground, though he rocked slightly on his feet from the force of the blow.

  “I’m sorry,” Judd tried again, his chin dropping in submission, but Basso only turned his attention back to me.

  “You were supposed to be at home,” Basso said, his face white with fury. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be coming?”

  My eyes were fixed on the bloody woman who was staring at me through her matted golden hair. There would always be more victims until we stopped him.

  “Hazel.” Basso grabbed my arms painfully and gave me a violent shake. I tore my faze away from the woman to Basso—and nearly ripped myself free from his grasp when I saw the undiluted raged lurking in his eyes. “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to see you,” I admitted in a small voice. His grip was starting to hurt and I was unable to keep my face from screwing up with the pain. I was certain I was going to have bruises where his hands were. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

  Basso grip tightened briefly, making me whimper, then he suddenly released me and it took a second for me to regain my balance and my composure.

  “I think it’s best if you don’t ever surprise me again.” Basso returned to the hanging woman and her eyes followed him warily.

  “Of course.” I stepped cautiously over to the red sofa and slowly sank down into it. “Never again.”

  Basso picked up a pair of what looked like pliers and turned them in his hand.

  I wished I could see his face. Maybe I could work out what he was thinking if I could.

  “Hold her,” Basso ordered and Robert stepped up to the woman, hands clutching the woman around the waist.

  Hatred bubbled to the surface as I thought about how easy it was for him to obey Basso’s every whim. Did he not have a mind of his own? Did he not see how inhumane it all was?

  “Let’s keep going,” Basso said and crouched down before the woman’s feet.

  I watched in horror as Basso lifted the woman’s bloodied feet and began to slowly pull out the toenail of her big toe.

  The woman screamed, but it was muffled against a gag that I only noticed when she threw her head back in her agony. Tears were streaking down her face and her whole body was shaking with the force of her screams.

  When the whole foot was completed and the woman had fallen unco
nscious, Basso set the pliers aside and took a few steps back, eyes still on the woman.

  “What...” My throat was stuck together, so I coughed to clear it. “What are you looking for exactly?” I doubted I could help, but Basso was doing something for once, not one of his lackeys. Whoever she was, she must have done something terrible indeed to be tortured by Basso himself.

  “Nothing.” Basso backed up until he was inches from the sofa but he did not sit.

  My eyes were still on her as I asked, “Then what did she do?”

  “She double-crossed me.”

  I paced anxiously before Detective Emerson’s closed office door, heart slamming painfully against my rib cage as I waited impatiently for him to emerge.

  I knew it was dangerous to come without being summoned, but after what I had seen last night, I knew I couldn’t wait for him to send for me. I had to see him as soon as I could.

  When he finally opened the office door, I didn’t even bother waiting for him to invite me in. I just strode directly past him and settled myself on the edge of one of the leather chairs situated in front of his desk.

  Detective Emerson, however, took his time and even tidied up his desk a bit before finally looking at me. I could see the annoyance and frustration in the deep set lines in his face, but ignored them.

  “What is it you needed to talk to me so urgently about, Hazel?” he asked, his tone level.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” The words tumbled out in a rush and once I said them, I knew I wouldn’t able to take them back. But I didn’t want to, not after watching Basso torture that woman. If I was ever caught, that would be me.

  The idea made me shudder violently.

  “I want out,” I clarified and the detective sat back in his seat, his eyes narrowed as he looked me over. “If Basso discovers my role in all of this, if he finds out that I am helping you try to catch him, then it will be me who is strung up by my wrists with my nails being pulled out. I will be the one who is slowly tortured to death.”

 

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