Chapter 41

I speak to the Madame and book Big Sal for the day. No rolling in the hay but as a companion for my visit to The Man. I figure that if I have a broad in tow he will go easy on me when I tell him “No Dice”.

We take a cab down to Chelsea, the driver is a West Indian and has Calypso on at full volume broadcast direct from George Town by the sound of it. I am glad to pay him off. The façade of the Stork Club is not improved by daylight. The Neon Sign glows faintly in the sunshine, failing to hide the shabbiness of the paintwork. A large goon in a three piece is on the door and frisks us both before we are let in. Big Sal gives him the evil eye when his hand gets too intimate. Inside by contrast the place is plush. No expense has been spared on the décor. Gold leaf on the capitals and cherubs.

The Man is seated at the same table he had dinner at when I was given my assignment. No sign of Babs. Instead he is surrounded by lieutenants, and a few soldiers hang around by the bar. He spots me and waves me over with a manicured hand.

‘Hey Fats you bring good news I hope. And you brought your lady friend, or is she your bodyguard?’ His lieutenants laugh. Babs ignores them, she has made an effort on her outfit and looks a bit of class.

‘Just joking Honey no offence,’ says The Man.

He turns to the bar and shouts.

‘Hey Rizo get the lady a drink and make her comfortable while me and Fats here talk turkey.’ Then he adds. ‘Bring Fats here a Bourbon, that’s if we have any left after he run up the biggest bar tab. Jeeze I nearly had heart attack.’

He motions me to sit down. The lieutenants leave and go out back.

I drink my bourbon and try to relax. I give him my butter wouldn’t melt look and prefix my bad news with. ‘Just try to remember that I am only the messenger.’

His mood changes. ‘Messenger smessenger, all I want is a little joint action. Is that too much to ask?’ He knocks the glass out of my hand.

‘Go tell them coons that I always get what I want. With or without any bloodshed.

On seeing this Sal rushes over and takes a swipe at him with her handbag. I have never seen her move so fast. The bag catches him on the ear and nearly severs it from his head. The goons are too slow for her, she grabs my hand and  pulls me to my feet.

‘Come on Fats time to leave.’ We head out over the stage and into the alley at the back, and into 10^th Avenue. A number 11 bus is just about to close its doors and we jump on. To tell the truth I am struggling for breath but Big Sal is flushed with excitement and laughing fit to bust. When my heart stops pounding I think over what we have just done. Rile The Man. The Bothers had better be ready.