Jeannie lingers at the bar, caught between what she knows and what it will cost her.
Cocaine Nights
Written by Don Blinebry | Noir and Nonsense Originals
Synopsis
Shackley comes looking for answers.
What begins as a simple exchange of information quickly turns into something far more personal.
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[A scene from a work in progress.]
From the street-level entrance, you could see almost everything The Subterranean had to offer. The club occupied the basement of a two-story building on the Lower East Side in a neighborhood that couldn’t decide if it was coming back or going to hell.
Staccato projections danced on the walls and people danced everywhere else. Some even had partners. I waited until my eyes adjusted to the light then made my way down the open metal stairway.
At the first landing, a steroid junkie playing bouncer had set up shop. He gave me the eye but decided he didn’t like his chances. Smart. At least a little smarter than his counterpart on the door had been.
I jerked a thumb over my shoulder as I passed. “You might want to check on your girlfriend at the door. He wasn’t looking so good when I came in.” We moved in opposite directions.
In the dim light, my hand didn’t look broken. I flexed it just the same. It was sore, but all the pieces and parts seemed to work.
Like a hundred other nightspots, the club had been made over to cater to the whim of the city’s youth—each new fad briefly reigning before bowing to its successor. In a different era, these were speakeasies. In the age of tolerance, alcohol was the least of their sins. It was the kind of joint that moved a half a dozen lines for every gin-and-something they poured.
“She was a plain-looking girl with mousey brown hair and makeup that had stopped trying a while ago.”
At the bar, I sat next to a retro-girl in a black dress with a white feather boa. “Nice outfit. Joey told me how to find you.”
“Then you must be Shackley.” Her glazed eyes registered mild surprise. “Joey said you were a big guy. I thought you’d be fat. I wasn’t expectin’…I’m Jean, Jeannie. That’s what my friends call me. You want to buy a girl a drink?”
“Will it get me information any quicker?” I signaled the bartender for a new drink and watched her down the one she had. She was a plain-looking girl with mousey brown hair and makeup that had stopped trying a while ago.
“How’s Joey? He was supposed to come around today, but I haven’t seen him.”
“The next needle will probably kill him, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t come here to talk about your boyfriend.”
“No. No, you came because you’re looking for Councilman Townes. Everybody’s looking for Councilman Townes. Did he really kill somebody?”
Her lips asked the question but her eyes said she didn’t want the answer. “I’m not the jury. They found a dead man in his office. That puts him at the top of the list.”
A bartender brought the girl’s drink and waited for me to order. I waved him off, but he wasn’t dissuaded that easily. I glared at him until he decided his health was more important than a tip.
The wordless confrontation made the girl uncomfortable. “We shouldn’t be talking about this out here.”
“Where else did you have in mind?”
“This club belongs to my uncle.” She grabbed her purse and her new drink. “C’mon, I got a room in the back.”
I followed her through a doorway at the end of the bar. “It’s right down here. Hey, I’ve got an eight-ball of coke we can try.” Her key fumbled at the lock.
“Some other time.”
Inside, she made another offer. “I’ve heard that if you rub cocaine on your private parts, it’s great for sex.”
“That’s probably the last place you’d want to go numb.”
A digital clock flashed midnight in red numbers and a nightlight offered the only other illumination. An unmade bed stood against the far wall next to a nightstand with a lamp. On the opposite wall was a table with a mirror and a small stool. Clothes were scattered on the floor, or hung on chairs and doorknobs.
“Maybe we should just rub our private parts against each other.” The black dress joined the other items on the floor. She hadn’t been wearing anything beneath it. She pulled at my clothes and I didn’t stop her.
When she sat up, I heard the soft click of the lighter and smelled the cigarette. I listened to her inhale before propping an eye open.
“You didn’t say anything.” Her complaint was accompanied by a pout.
“Nothing seemed appropriate.”
I watched her smoke in silence until she felt my eyes on her. “What?”
“Just wondering why you’re turning the councilman in. You didn’t say anything to the police. Why roll on him now?”
“Lots of reasons. None of them would interest you.” She took another drag on the cigarette and crushed it out. “Part of it’s because I don’t want him dead. I don’t need that crap on my conscience. Mostly I don’t want the cops coming here an’ tossing this place. I don’t want them shutting down my uncle’s club because this is all I have.”
“So where’s Townes?”
“Jump me again and maybe I’ll tell you.” She pulled me down on top of her. “This time, say something. Tell me you love me. I don’t care if it isn’t true.”
We jockeyed for position under the sheets and used each other in silence, conversing and convulsing with our private demons.
She sat stoically while I dressed, her small breasts barely moving with each shallow breath, lost in her own world. When she spoke, it was almost a whisper.
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“Townes? Depends on who finds him first. There are plenty of people who would like to keep him quiet.”
“What about the cops?”
“What about ‘em? If he puts up a fight, they’ll kill him. If he surrenders, who knows?”
It wasn’t the definitive answer she was looking for. “Maybe he’ll just go to jail?”
“Maybe. He’ll sit it out on Rikers Island until his trial, if he survives that long. He doesn’t have a lot of options. Where is he?”
Silence again. I wondered if she was having second thoughts, or if reality was sinking in. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke.
“I don’t even know your first name.”
“Leon. My name is Leon.”
“You could take me with you, Leon. I wouldn’t be any trouble. Really. I’d…”
“You wouldn’t last in my world, Jeannie and I couldn’t live in yours.”
I put on my coat and turned back to her. Her eyes were closed but the dim light reflected the tears. I lit a cigarette and put it in her hand. “Where’s Townes?”
“The Boat Basin on 79th.” She took a long drag and brushed away a tear. “It’s a sloop called Moondancer.”
I opened the door to leave.
“Are you going to kill him, Leon?”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
“Don’t kill him. Please? Tell Daddy that Jeannie is still his little angel.”
I closed the door and left her sitting on the edge of the bed. Leaving was harder than it should have been. I walked out into the night to see a man about a murder.
Meet the Usual Suspects
A Cinematic Moment
Cocaine Nights, brought briefly to life.
Evidence Room
Found near the scene.
A noir keepsake.
Just take it. No questions asked.
