Gonna Get Along Without You Now
After the band’s first set that night – a knockout performance, as always – Toni decided to find her brother, who hadn’t made an appearance all evening. He almost always popped in to count the house or step behind the bar to serve a special customer or lean into the kitchen to yell at the cooks, but he hadn’t done anything like that on this night.
Toni was concerned. Any out-of-character behavior from any of the Metro Gang’s board of directors might bring the kind of scrutiny from law enforcement that they couldn’t afford at the moment. They needed to look like legitimate business people to the outside world. At his best, Johnny was barely five minutes away from a felony arrest, and he hadn’t been at his best recently.
So she stuck her head in his office, checked with the kitchen staff, the wait staff – who added to her burden when they told her that the new waitress was missing in action and no one else had been able to take a break so far, yet another violation of the loosely enforced labor laws in that part of Metropolis – the front door and backstage security, but no one had seen him since he’d come in around five o’clock that afternoon. And Toni was about to shift from concerned to downright worried. He just wasn’t anywhere.
Then a thought struck her. The last place she might check was the small sleeping alcove off his office. Toni had caught him in there with Christie late one night almost two months before, and that was when she’d been promoted from waitress to singing star. To her credit, she’d actually had some talent, but Toni had never thought she was good enough to sing with the Mountaintops. On top of that, her drug and alcohol abuse would soon destroy the meager abilities she did possess, and then Toni would have to pry her far enough away from Johnny to move her back to waitressing. Assuming, of course, that she’d accept the demotion.
That would be hard enough, and Toni wasn’t looking forward to the day when she’d have to fire Christie. The girl with the shapely body and curly blond hair and little else going for her would soon bring trouble down on her brother’s head, and the spillover effect would damage the entire operation.
Toni paused in front of her brother’s office door and shook her head. If only he’d open himself to her ideas, her methods, her ways of doing business, they could double their net income within a year and make themselves twice as difficult to prosecute. But he’d never go for it. He was locked into Pop’s way, and nothing short of brass knuckles or a crowbar would move him away from that course.
Toni opened the door and looked around, and this time she saw her brother’s overcoat draped over his chair. She stepped further in and heard sounds from behind the alcove door, sounds she’d heard before.
Great, Toni growled to herself. Christie missed a show to get up close and personal with Johnny. That brainless little –
Toni pushed the door open and blurted out, “All right, Christie, you’ve missed an entire – “
It wasn’t Christie.
A naked blond woman was lying next to Johnny.
And it wasn’t Christie.
Her bare-chested brother raised himself on his elbow as the blond yanked the sheet up to her cover her breasts. “Toni! How many times I gotta tell ya not to barge in here! I’m kinda busy right now!”
Toni nodded slowly as she recognized the blond as one of the club’s new waitresses, the one who was absent from her assignment. “Uh-huh. Busy.”
“Yeah! Now why don’t you just leave us alone? We’re just gettin’ acquainted.”
Toni shook her head and finally recalled the blond girl’s name. “Linda needs to get back to work. We’re full up tonight and I’m sure she could use the tips.”
Johnny frowned, but Linda reached out and put her palm on his chest. “It’s okay with me, honey. I’ll meet you later if you want me to.”
Johnny turned to her and smiled. “Sure, sugar. You go back to work for now. We’ll talk later.”
He leaned down and kissed her sloppily, then turned and glared at his sister. “Well? You wanna watch us get dressed too? Didn’t think you were that kinky.”
Toni sighed. “I’ll forgo that particular pleasure for now. But I need to talk to you, Johnny. I’ll be outside.”
Toni stepped through the door and closed it, but not before she heard a sharp fleshy smack and a feminine giggle, followed by some whispered conversation. After a more than sufficient interval, the door opened again and Linda slipped out. She gave Toni a sheepish glance.
Toni returned a full-force angry-boss glare. “Make sure you fix your makeup before you go back on the floor. You look like you’ve been wrestling an alligator.”
The girl dropped her gaze and blushed. “Yes, ma’am, I will.” Then she headed out the door. She looked more than a bit unsteady on her feet, although she didn’t seem to be drunk. Maybe she was just overwhelmed by Johnny’s masculine charm.
Sure she was. And their attorney, the slimy but efficient Martin Snell, would get that Supreme Court appointment any day now.
Johnny took his time getting dressed, either to show Toni that he was still in charge or just to irritate her, but it was slightly over seven minutes more before he opened the door. Toni glared at him and he shrugged his shoulders.
“What? You got a problem with my social life?”
She gritted her teeth. “The last time I found you in there with a woman I had to hire her as a featured singer! Before that, I had to break in a lunchtime piano player who couldn’t find a melody with a road map and a GPS unit! What’s Linda going to be?”
“Her? Nothin’. She’s happy bein’ a waitress.”
Toni stood and snarled her response into Johnny’s face. “Oh, sure she is. Wait until she finds out what we really do here! She’ll cuddle up to you and beg for a new wardrobe or a better apartment or a car and you’ll drop one wing and run in circles and give her whatever she wants just like you did with Christie!”
It was a mistake. She was too close. Johnny’s left hand lashed out in a backhand slap and caught Toni under the chin before she could react. Disoriented, she tumbled over the couch and onto the floor. She landed on her hands and knees and tried to regain her feet to defend herself.
She wasn’t quick enough. Johnny grabbed her hair and yanked her head backwards as he put a knee against the middle of her back. “Listen to me!” he hissed in her ear. “You can bring your new ideas to the board, you can show us how to make more money with less risk, but you don’t tell me how to live! I do what I want when I want with whoever I want! You got that?”
She reached up to grab his hand and ease the pressure on her spine. “Johnny, please, you’re hurting – “
He yanked again and she cried out in pain. “Tell me you got that! Tell me you understand!”
She coughed twice and tried to nod. “Yes! Yes, I understand!”
He pulled her head a little further back for a moment before throwing her face-first on the carpet. He took a breath and started to say something, but then he changed his mind and stood. He turned and opened the office door, then paused with his hand on the doorknob.
“You’re my sister. You’re family. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. But you can’t tell me what to do! You ain’t Mom.” He paused, then added, “And you sure ain’t Pop.” He took a deep breath, then stepped out and closed the door behind him.
Toni struggled to the couch and felt her jaw. It didn’t feel bloody, but it did feel swollen and it was surely reddened by the impact. She got up and staggered to Johnny’s desk to search for a tissue or a handkerchief, then remembered the small half-bath in the alcove.
She washed her face and hands in the ancient sink and tried to fix her hair, but her brush and makeup weren’t within reach. It was useless. She’d have to go to her own office and try to make herself presentable there.
*****
Clark watched as Linda scooted towards the ladies’ dressing room with her purse clutched in her hand. Her clothing was slightly askew and her makeup was smeared. He wondered what that was all about. But he was sure she’d tell him when they met the next morning at the Planet, so he mentally shrugged and went back to work.
A few minutes later, Toni Taylor came back onto the floor. She greeted a few of the regulars with smiles and smooth talk, but Clark could tell that something was wrong with her. Between schmoozing visits at the tables, she would glance around nervously as if afraid of pursuit. And her face carried more than the usual amount of makeup.
She made her way to the bar and Clark leaned towards her. “What can I get you, Ms. Taylor?”
She leaned on the bar without looking at him and said, “Scotch. Single malt. Make it a triple.”
He stopped. “A triple? You sure?”
“Yes!” she snapped. “A triple!”
“Yes, ma’am.” He poured the drink and set it down beside her elbow. She lifted it and downed it in two gulps.
Clark took the empty glass and put it in the bin under the bar. “Can I get you a sandwich or something, Ms. Taylor?”
“What? Oh, no, no thanks, Charlie.”
He leaned a little closer. “Are you okay? Is there a problem?”
She snorted nervously, then shook her head. “No. Nothing you can help me with. But thanks for asking.” She looked at him and gave him a wary smile. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the next set?”
Instead of answering, Clark gently took her chin in his hand and lifted her face slightly. “Who hit you?”
She slapped his hand away. “None of your business! Now go get ready for the next set! The girls are – are going to need you at the sound board.”
He looked into her eyes. “Maybe I can help. If nothing else, at least I can listen.”
She hesitated as if considering his offer, then shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Just get ready for the band.”
Clark nodded slowly. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned away and took off his apron, then started for the sound booth.
He managed to pass Linda as she set drinks on a table. He paused and nodded as if trying to make sure he didn’t run into her. He smiled and whispered, “Do you know what’s going on with Toni Taylor?”
Linda didn’t meet his eyes. “Later,” she hissed. Then she hurried away. She didn’t look hurt, but she did seem to have trouble keeping her balance as she walked.
Clark didn’t know what was going on, but he was sure he wouldn’t like it when he found out. But since she obviously wasn’t going to talk to him now, his only choice was to get back to the sound booth in time for the first tune of the second set.
*****
Inspector William Henderson, Metropolis Police Department, Homicide Division, both loved his job and hated his job. It wasn’t the process of solving a puzzle that he hated – most murder cases weren’t all that challenging on a mental level – and it wasn’t the satisfaction of seeing the guilty face punishment for their crimes. It was the fact that his job would be as necessary as that of a tailor in a nudist colony if not for the evil and the violence that people so often visited upon each other.
In other words, he hated the fact that the job that fulfilled his life wouldn’t exist if people didn’t kill each other.
He glanced at the leader of the uniformed officers following him and motioned for the young man to come closer. “Look, Jones, we’re going into the Metro Club after closing time, so make sure your guys look around and stay alert. But don’t take any action unless I tell you to, and for crying out loud don’t give out any information.”
The young man frowned. “But don’t we have to tell them why we’re here, sir?”
“No. ‘We’ don’t have to say anything to them. ‘I’ will do all the talking.”
Jones nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And remember that we’re here to ask questions, not to arrest anyone. We don’t have probable cause or a warrant, so if they tell us to leave, we smile and thank them for their cooperation and walk out the front door.”
Jones frowned again. “Aren’t they gangsters or something?”
Henderson sighed. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to work with rookie uniformed officers. “They are. But we’re not here about that. And we’re not here to do anything but inform them of a suspicious death and ask some questions. Now stay close, but stay behind me and try not to provoke anyone.”
The youth nodded again. “Yes, sir.” He turned and waved to the other two young people in police uniforms. “Stay calm, stay quiet, and just watch. We’re here to learn and to assist the detective. No talking at all. Got it?”
The other two nodded eagerly. Henderson looked at them and noted their wide eyes and stiff posture. Oh, well, he thought, they have to get some real-life experience somehow. He just hoped that three nervous rookie cops were better than one and that nobody got themselves accidentally shot.
Bill fastened his badge on his suit coat pocket and knocked on the Metro Club’s front door. There was no response, so after a moment he knocked harder.
Someone shuffled to the other side of the door and yelled, “We’re closed for the night. Come back tomorrow afternoon. We open at five. Scram, willya?”
Bill knocked again and called out, “Police. We need to talk to the manager of the club.”
A small window at eye-level slid open. “Cops? What is this, a raid? Where’s your warrant?”
He put on a weary smile. “Hello, George. Would you open the door, please?”
The doorman’s face hardened. “Show me your warrant or you ain’t comin’ in!”
Bill leaned closer. “I don’t have a warrant, George. I don’t need one because I’m only here to talk. We’re not here to arrest anyone.”
The eyes in the opening blinked. “Then I don’t have to let you in.”
Bill nodded. “That’s true, you don’t. But that just means that I either wait for everyone to leave and escort certain people to the station for a little chat, or I call in for a search warrant and hold everyone here until we’re finished looking around.” He leaned closer. “Or will you let me in so I can talk to the manager and avoid all that unpleasantness?”
The eyes blinked again. “Wait here. I gotta go get someone.”
Bill nodded and stepped back to wait. The silence stretched on, and apparently Officer Jones couldn’t handle it. “Inspector,” he almost stammered, “are they going to let us in?”
“Do I look like a fortune teller, kid?” Bill regretted snapping at the young man and continued, “I think so, but I don’t know. So we wait.”
“How long? Sir?”
“Until someone comes, or until we’re sure someone isn’t coming.”
“Right.” Jones took a nervous half-step backwards and fiddled with the handcuffs on his equipment belt.
Bill lifted his wrist. Another two minutes, he thought, then we call in for a warrant and hope we can find a sympathetic judge at almost one o’clock in the morning.
Just as his patience neared its end, the door to the club opened and a young woman gestured to the officers. “Come on in, gentlemen. I’m Toni Taylor, the club’s assistant manager. How can I help you?”
Bill led his entourage into the club. “I’m Inspector Bill Henderson, homicide division. We’re here – “
“Homicide?” Toni sighed. “Inspector, I can assure you that no one has recently died on these premises for any reason.”
“That’s good to know, but that’s not why we’re here. Is the band, the Mountaintops, still here?”
Toni frowned in confusion. “Yes, but why? They’re about to leave for their hotel to get some well-earned rest.”
“This won’t take long. I just have a few questions I need to ask them.”
“Sure.” She turned and called out to a tall young man cleaning up near the bar. “Charlie? See if the girls in the band are still here. If they are, tell them the police want to talk to them.” She turned to Henderson and asked, “My office okay?”
He nodded. “If it’s large enough for all of us and all of them, yes.”
“It’s not.” She shook her head and turned to Charlie. “Tell them to meet us in the conference room.” She turned back to the officers. “This way please, gentlemen.”
*****
Ramona pulled on a light windbreaker and glanced at the other two women in the dressing room. They’d spent many nights and early mornings like this one, too many for Ramona’s taste, and it was time they reaped the fruits of their hard work. Connie yawned as she adjusted her sweater. Shamika ran her hand through her short curly hair and blinked with fatigue. Lois and Lucy had dragged themselves into their room as enthusiastically as if they’d been visiting a dentist for a long overdue cleaning. None of them had the energy to continue the conversations they’d begun after the final set, a set which they’d played without Christie.
They were tired and they needed a day off, which was fortunate because their day off was the next day. Ramona sometimes called for rehearsals on such days, but given the group’s state of mind, she decided that they could use the rest instead. There would be no rehearsals on their day off this week.
Ramona decided they’d deal with Christie’s absence tomorrow when their minds were clear. If the lack of response from Johnny was any indication, maybe they wouldn’t have to do much, if anything. Maybe he was as fed up with her unreliability as they were, and if so, maybe he was ready to fire her and let them finish the gig by themselves.
She smiled to herself. I can dream, she mused.
Just then a sharp knock sounded on the door. “It’s Charlie. You ladies decent?”
Connie lifted her head. “No, but come on in anyway, Charlie. Maybe you can lift our spirits with your manly charm. But make it snappy. We’re all wrung out.”
He opened the door. “Ms. Taylor wants all of you to meet her in the conference room. Some cops are with her and they want to talk to you.”
Shamika laughed wearily. “What for? We gettin’ arrested for not paying ASCAP or BMI on time?”
Charlie didn’t smile. “I don’t know what they want, but I think it’s more serious than that.”
Shamika and Connie both moaned in disharmony, but Ramona waved them quiet. “The sooner we get this done the quicker we all get some sleep. Charlie, please go knock on Lois and Lucy’s door and let them know what’s going on.”
“Will do,” he answered.
Connie grabbed Shamika’s shoulders from behind and leaned on her back as the taller woman passed by. “Oh, Shamika, Charlie, somebody,” she moaned dramatically, “please, please carry me. I don’t think I can make it.”
A grin almost creased Charlie’s mouth as he leaned into the room once more. “I think at least a couple of the cops are young and good-looking.”
“Really?” Connie leaped to her feet and called out, “I’ll race you, Ramona! Last one there is a busted pitch pipe!”
