The
Stork Club is empty. V and I are the only clients. The barman takes V
for The Mans squeeze until she puts him right, then he is all over
us. He knows me from the stint I did as resident key man, and is now
super impressed by my date.
“Wait until The Man gets in. He will be as green as a Mick on St. Pats night.” Veronica has a dry martini and I stick to scotch on the rocks. As is inevitable I gravitate towards the piano and do some impros., on the tunes from Pal Joey. Veronica sits beside me on the stool the warmth of her thighs pressing mine. She sits with her eyes closed and her head to one side her hair flopping over one eye. It's Veronica Lake in a classic Veronica Lake pose. She hums lightly along to my playing. She is as relaxed as I have ever seen her. She must be so confident that this evening is going to go her way. I am no mind reader but her demeanour is suggests that. I hope she is right because the whole of America is about to get a shock, from 100 to Zero-sen in one day.
It's leaving time when The Man walks in with his goons. In the gloom he sees me with Veronica and takes her for Babs.
“Hey Limey, thanks for keeping my girl company, but now it's time for you to pay the price.” He grins at his goons and they laugh to his command. Veronica gets up from the stool and walks over to him slow and sassy. She reaches him and flicks ash on his shoes.
“OK big boy, whats the beef?”
He is slowly turning red. His face is a picture of uncertainty. Veronica turns to me.
“Time to go Honey.” Then back to The Man
“Your broad must be one hell of a fuck if she's anything like me. I should hang onto her, we're pretty short on the ground.”
**************
The rain is now incessant, it rains like it will never stop. Drops as big as peas hit he ground with a force that sends up fountain splashes. My light leather Italian loafers leak as soon as they hit the pavement. The cheap dime umbrellas are as much use as a sieve. Veronica is wearing a Martian rain cloak. Not strictly New York 1941 but as it is invisible who will know? The room smells of fish. The windows are steamed up through which flashing light from the drug store across the street flits between red and green. Besides the cook we are the only two occupants. I go over to the upright Steinway, its front removed to show the works and test a few chords. It sounds good in tune and with a fortissimo sound. I like it. I sit at the stool and play some Waller. Veronica lights up a cigarette in a long mother of pearl holder and blows the smoke in to the room. It may have been the sound of the piano or just the time, but when I look around the room has filled up. All the usual suspects are here. The bull at the door leaning back with his coat open showing his shoulder set up. The hooker on the sofa is just shooting up, and her pimp is seated on the arm. This time he is in a white suit with a white tie and black button down, correspondence shoes and white silk socks, black hat. The crap game in the adjoining room is just getting started with the sound of dice and hollering between numbers. The cook is cooking and serving drinks. Nothing suspicious there. In fact it all looks as usual so far. Doil and Getz are yet to show up as are the sailors. I continue playing, maybe this is it, and I can retire. The pimp grabs Veronica by the arm and pulls her to him, this is my cue to play a Tango. Doil climbs the stairs and drips water onto the parquet. He looks around taking all in, staying schtum. He tips back his hat and opens his coat, then leans on the other side of the door to the bull with the shoulder set up. The sailors arrive pushing one another into the room. Each carries a bottle of spirits. The place is hotting up. The hooker on the sofa stands up and cuts in on Veronica.
“My man Lady” she says and hangs around his neck. He pushes her away and tells her to get to work pointing around the room at the sailors.
She takes a blade from her garter and lunges at the pimp. He dodges it and parries with a slap to the jaw. She tumbles across the room and falls at the feet of the bull. He hauls her up and as she rises she takes his police special from under his arm turns and empties the gun in to the room. The cook enters the room with a platter of cat fish. She takes the third bullet in the mouth. The first two hit Veronica in the chest. The rest just hole the walls. I keep playing as the medics arrive. They take away Veronica and the cook.
“Wait until The Man gets in. He will be as green as a Mick on St. Pats night.” Veronica has a dry martini and I stick to scotch on the rocks. As is inevitable I gravitate towards the piano and do some impros., on the tunes from Pal Joey. Veronica sits beside me on the stool the warmth of her thighs pressing mine. She sits with her eyes closed and her head to one side her hair flopping over one eye. It's Veronica Lake in a classic Veronica Lake pose. She hums lightly along to my playing. She is as relaxed as I have ever seen her. She must be so confident that this evening is going to go her way. I am no mind reader but her demeanour is suggests that. I hope she is right because the whole of America is about to get a shock, from 100 to Zero-sen in one day.
It's leaving time when The Man walks in with his goons. In the gloom he sees me with Veronica and takes her for Babs.
“Hey Limey, thanks for keeping my girl company, but now it's time for you to pay the price.” He grins at his goons and they laugh to his command. Veronica gets up from the stool and walks over to him slow and sassy. She reaches him and flicks ash on his shoes.
“OK big boy, whats the beef?”
He is slowly turning red. His face is a picture of uncertainty. Veronica turns to me.
“Time to go Honey.” Then back to The Man
“Your broad must be one hell of a fuck if she's anything like me. I should hang onto her, we're pretty short on the ground.”
**************
The rain is now incessant, it rains like it will never stop. Drops as big as peas hit he ground with a force that sends up fountain splashes. My light leather Italian loafers leak as soon as they hit the pavement. The cheap dime umbrellas are as much use as a sieve. Veronica is wearing a Martian rain cloak. Not strictly New York 1941 but as it is invisible who will know? The room smells of fish. The windows are steamed up through which flashing light from the drug store across the street flits between red and green. Besides the cook we are the only two occupants. I go over to the upright Steinway, its front removed to show the works and test a few chords. It sounds good in tune and with a fortissimo sound. I like it. I sit at the stool and play some Waller. Veronica lights up a cigarette in a long mother of pearl holder and blows the smoke in to the room. It may have been the sound of the piano or just the time, but when I look around the room has filled up. All the usual suspects are here. The bull at the door leaning back with his coat open showing his shoulder set up. The hooker on the sofa is just shooting up, and her pimp is seated on the arm. This time he is in a white suit with a white tie and black button down, correspondence shoes and white silk socks, black hat. The crap game in the adjoining room is just getting started with the sound of dice and hollering between numbers. The cook is cooking and serving drinks. Nothing suspicious there. In fact it all looks as usual so far. Doil and Getz are yet to show up as are the sailors. I continue playing, maybe this is it, and I can retire. The pimp grabs Veronica by the arm and pulls her to him, this is my cue to play a Tango. Doil climbs the stairs and drips water onto the parquet. He looks around taking all in, staying schtum. He tips back his hat and opens his coat, then leans on the other side of the door to the bull with the shoulder set up. The sailors arrive pushing one another into the room. Each carries a bottle of spirits. The place is hotting up. The hooker on the sofa stands up and cuts in on Veronica.
“My man Lady” she says and hangs around his neck. He pushes her away and tells her to get to work pointing around the room at the sailors.
She takes a blade from her garter and lunges at the pimp. He dodges it and parries with a slap to the jaw. She tumbles across the room and falls at the feet of the bull. He hauls her up and as she rises she takes his police special from under his arm turns and empties the gun in to the room. The cook enters the room with a platter of cat fish. She takes the third bullet in the mouth. The first two hit Veronica in the chest. The rest just hole the walls. I keep playing as the medics arrive. They take away Veronica and the cook.
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