Sirens (26 page)

Every drawer, all my bedding, all the clothes in the closet, all were ripped and shredded and scattered. Knives had been taken to most of it, even the mattress. My underthings littered the floor; the color rose into my cheeks, burning hot. I stooped and tried gathering them in a pile, to hide the most personal items. Even my
bathroom was a mess, bottles smashed and broken, including, to my misery, the bottle of Chanel No. 5 that Melody had given me. Its fragrance permeated the air.

“Oh!” The sound escaped me as I sank onto the only chair still upright.

“Miss, you need to leave,” said an officer. “We’re working, and you’re in the way.” Still hugging my books, I made my way to the library, my heart in my throat.

It was a mess, with all those leather-bound, mostly unread, books scattered and torn. Leather bindings were snapped; precious volumes lay heaped, pages fluttering. It broke my heart.

But I was at once relieved of another, more pressing, worry. No one, it seemed, not the robber and not the police, had discovered the hidden liquor closet.

I went back out to the hallway and stashed my books on an occasional table. “What happened?” I asked Chester, who tracked the mess of activity with one eye while covering the other with the ice pack.

“I surprised him,” Chester said, and lowered his hand so I could see the ugly black-and-yellow bruise forming around his eye. I winced and sucked in air in sympathy. He replaced the ice and went on. “I came in while he was making a mess of the library. But I didn’t get a good look at him. He connected his massive fist with my face and took off down the service stairs before I recovered.”

I knew that the apartment was empty late at night, if none of the family were at home. In the evenings the servants went back to their own rooms.

“Do you know what he wanted?” I thought I knew, but I wanted to hear from Chester.

He shook his head. “Ow. Got to remember not to move like that. No, I haven’t a clue, because as far as I could tell, he was empty-handed. Which is why he could give me such a perfect shiner.”

I let go another breath.

The plainclothes officer rounded up his crew, who came out of my room carrying, I assumed, at least some of my clothing, stuffed inside my pillowcases. “Sorry about your things, miss. We’ll return them as soon as we can.” He turned to my uncle. “I’ll put a couple of men on the street for a few days, Mr. Cates. I hate to think what would’ve happened if one of the ladies had surprised the thief.”

Aunt Mary gave a small cry, and Melody put her arm around her mother’s shoulder.

The plainclothes man coughed and lowered his voice. “You know, of course, that no other activity can go on while we investigate.” Which I took to mean that my uncle would be unable to bring in any liquor for his private stores.

Uncle Bert nodded, staring at the floor.

When the police were gone, the rest of us stood in the foyer in silence, until Melody spoke up.

“Jo will sleep in my room with me. My bed is plenty big. Jo, I have lots of other clothes, and we’ll go shopping straightaway tomorrow.” She looked at her parents, from one to the other. “Mother, Daddy, it’s only things. Just things. No one was hurt. Well, Chester. But he’ll be fine in a day or two. And the papers will call him a hero, so he should have plenty of sweet little flappers vying for his phone number.”

Melody impressed me, her strength and determination. But as I looked at her parents, I could see what thought had crossed their minds. Neither my aunt nor my uncle would look at me. I’d
brought trouble to my own parents. And now I was bringing my trouble into their house, into their lives, into their family.

“Look,” I said. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Oh, no, dear, you aren’t,” said my aunt in an unconvincing fashion.

“It’s time we got some sleep,” Melody went on, her tone even more firm. “We can talk about this in the morning.”

We parted ways for the night—Aunt Mary gave Chester salve and a fresh bag of ice—in a barrage of awkward hugs.

Once I was alone with Melody even her facade slipped. “I’m exhausted. There’s a clean set of pajamas in the top drawer. Night.” And she lay down with her back to me, an eye mask covering her face, and slept.

I lay in the dark forever. This was an entirely new level of threat. It was one thing for me to leave my home—Pops had chased me out ahead of the storm—and for it then to be destroyed. That was a narrow miss, but still a miss, since no one was hurt. But this was something else. Connor was not just threatening me, he was hurting my family, even my extended family.

I made a decision, lying there, listening to the night sounds of New York—the cars honking, the brakes, the low rumble of movement, always movement, for that was New York, the city that moves endlessly.

I had to leave my aunt and uncle’s place. It was too dangerous for them for me to stay. I had no idea where I’d end up. I’d have to figure out a plan first. But there was no doubt in my mind. I had to leave, before someone I loved did get really hurt. Or worse.

It took three days before I was alone again in the apartment and could get to the journal. I still hadn’t figured out where I’d go once I’d retrieved it, but I’d leave as soon as I could. The tension in the apartment had been growing steadily.

And in those three days, I had more time to think through the whole mess. I realized that if Louie had found the journal in my room while I was showering, she would have made off with it there and then. Why wait? And how would she have alerted Connor about the journal while I had been with her all evening? The look on hers and Charlie’s faces when we found out about the robbery told the tale. They hadn’t known what was going to happen.

I’d misjudged Lou. And Charlie. Especially Charlie. I’d been so sure I was right in the moment. But now I hoped I’d been wrong.

“Melody,” I ventured the second evening after the break-in, when she seemed to be in a better-than-usual mood, “how can I get in touch with Louie?”

Melody was thumbing through a magazine as we sat together in the living room; according to the police, the library was still off limits, although it had been cleaned. She didn’t look up at me. “Just call Danny Connor.”

“What if I don’t want Mr. Connor to know?”

Melody shut the magazine and stared at me. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t want him to know I’m looking for her.”

Melody watched me, her eyes narrowing but unfocused; I had the feeling she was trying to assess me, or my purpose. “Doll, what’s going on?”

I opened my eyes wide in an attempt to play innocent. “I just want to reach her, that’s all.”

“Right. And I’m the Queen of Sheba. Look. It was your room
they searched, not mine. Not Chester’s. And your house they torched. So maybe you could enlighten me a little here as to why you want to avoid Daniel Connor. Or, at least, indulge me with a great lie.”

I’d grown fond of Melody. She might be a flapper, she might have her touchy moments, but she was all right—honest, kind, and generous. She’d given me a whole new wardrobe in the blink of an eye, some from her own closet and some from a short shopping spree, and never complained while we were having to share quarters. She was smart—and even better, she was wise.

“I can’t tell you everything. Mainly”—and I decided to be honest here—“because I’m not sure about it all yet. I want to apologize to Louie, that’s all.”

“Apologize! Why?”

“I thought she was a weasel.”

At that, Melody burst out laughing. “Louise O’Keefe, a weasel?”

I shrugged. My center had slipped. How could I have misjudged Lou?

She stopped laughing and said, “Honey, honestly, I don’t know. Connor is possessive. He knows where she is and who she talks to every darn minute. You might have to wait until we can catch her alone, shopping or checking up on her brother or something. Let me think about how we can manage it.”

I knew I could go back to the Algonquin…but the thought of going through Charlie, for some reason, made my heart beat hard. Probably because I’d thought he was a weasel, too, and I knew I couldn’t have been more wrong. And possibly because, as Lou had assessed quite rightly, I was, as far as Charlie was concerned, smitten.

A day later, in the afternoon, everyone had left for their appointments, figuring at last that I could be trusted to be alone in the apartment.

The library had been cleaned; what books and small things remained were back on their shelves. The broken knickknacks had not yet been replaced, so the room had the air of a public space. The library had been the only warm and cozy place in the apartment, and now it, too, was impersonal.

But the secret liquor closet remained unsearched and undiscovered by the police, although it was still well used by my rattled uncle every evening. I pushed on the sidewall and then slid the panel aside; the smoothly built contraption opened like magic.

I reached deep behind a couple of cases of champagne that sat on the floor of the closet. I felt around with my fingers until I finally touched wool. Then I breathed a sigh of relief—it was still as I’d left it. I pulled out my old dark brown sweater, the one I’d wrapped tightly around my scarf with Teddy’s treasures inside.

I slipped into my old room—bare and clean now, but still private—to read Teddy’s journal, picking up where I’d left off.

August 16, 1921

He’s involved, I know he is. Paddy’s a rotten egg.

I made friends with a guy over there, Aldo Giaconni. He had the best sense of humor. Between his accent and his jokes, he kept me going more than a few times. He wanted to be a chef, and talked about his grandmother’s cooking in a way that made my mouth water. We spent a lot of time together.

Until he caught the dysentery. Lots of guys died retching and crapping all over the place. I hated that it happened to Aldo, that even his dream and sense of humor couldn’t beat back the grim reaper.

I don’t have a problem with the Italian guys back here. I don’t see why Paddy’s so burned. What did they do to him?

August 20

Danny doesn’t want to see it. I keep telling him, Paddy’s bad news. He’s going to bring it all down, but Danny shuts me up so fast, sometimes I think he’ll kill me if I take one step more.

August 31

I love the orchids. I started spending as much time as I could out there. It’s like a dream out there. I wish I could bring Jo to see them, when they’re in bloom.

On the other hand, some guys who have it all—money, dames, power—they still hate anyone who’s different. Different accent, different haircut, it doesn’t matter. Some guys just don’t get it.

I lowered the journal to my lap. I wished Teddy was here to explain this to me. I didn’t understand.

I raised the journal again, only to hear the elevator.

My digging would have to wait; I didn’t want to be surprised with the journal in my hands.

As fast as I could I bundled everything—the scarf, the medals, the journal—and flew out of the room and down the hall to Melody’s room. I heard the elevator door open, and heard voices, and I stuffed everything inside the closet, tossing the old sweater over it all to hide the scarlet poppies, and shut the door.

Then I took a breath.

I went back into the hallway, closing the door behind me and smoothing my hair and my dress. I followed the sound of the voices to the living room.

Uncle Bert was there. And John Rushton.

CHAPTER 35

Lou

So that night, the night of the break-in, Charlie and me walked downtown to the Algonquin, not saying a thing. He thought it was my fault, that Danny had put me up to it. I knew then how sweet he was on Jo, and how he thought for sure he’d lost her. Charlie left me at the hotel without more than a “G’night” and I made my way up to Danny’s suite alone.

Knocking around alone in that swell but empty joint meant my brain was knocking around with thoughts about Jo and Danny. Maybe it was just coincidence that Jo’s apartment was ransacked while we were out, but my tingly feelings were alive. What would Danny want that he’d find at her place?

I took a hot bath and wrapped myself tight in one of those oversize robes, and then I opened the big windows to the dark and stood looking down Forty-fourth toward the East River. From this high up I had the feeling I could see forever. The lights below and around me and off
in the distance twinkled like stars in the sweep of space, and the night was rich with the faint sounds of air brakes and auto horns. I imagined I could smell the river, fishy and rank.