Searching for Edgar's Five Dancers

by Efren O'brien

  “No, thank you, Lieutenant,” said the man. “I’m looking for the police chief. I need to speak with Chief Sutherland,” the mayor said. With that, the man walked over to Ethan and Quinn and extended his hand.

  “Hi, I don’t know you…I’m Dan Harper, Mayor of Santa Fe,” he said as he shook both Ethan and Quinn’s hands while they stood with surprised looks on their faces.

  “Hello, Mayor,” said Ethan. “It’s our honor to meet you. My name is Ethan Clark, and this is my partner, Quinn Chase. We’re former police officers from Albuquerque, and we’ve opened up our own office here offering private investigations,” Ethan said.

  “Oh, my god!” said the mayor. “More detectives in town, that’s all we need now!” he said sarcastically while giving a hearty and good-natured laugh. “Well, welcome to the City Different, gentlemen…as we call it. I hope you have a wonderful experience in our little city,” the mayor said. “I’m sure Lt. Huff will fill you in on all the attractions of Santa Fe and the surrounding area.”

  Lt. Huff’s face broke out in a red flush.

  “Make sure you get around town when you get the chance and check out our fine art galleries. Some of the most beautiful art in the world is created and sold right here in Santa Fe.”

  “Yes, your Honor, I’ve heard,” said Quinn.

  “In fact just walk through our City Hall and you’ll see some great examples of Southwestern and Modern art…or check out my personal collection in my office,” said Harper.

  “I’d enjoy that very much,” Quinn said.

  “If I can ever do anything for you, don’t hesitate to let me know. My office is in City Hall… the door is always open. Great to meet both of you!” the Mayor said, waving as he walked out of the same door he entered.

  “That was nice of him,” said Ethan after the mayor had left.

  “Yeah…Mayor Harper is a great guy,” said Huff. “But don’t take his easygoing nature for granted. Just like me, he’s a serious and cunning man when he needs to be…I’m cunning and I can be a real son-of-a-bitch when I want to be!” Huff said. “So, back to my little speech, boys.…Things will be much better for both of us if you can provide me with some information I can use every month,” Huff said.

  “We fully intend to provide you with information as we can, Lieutenant. After all, it is for the common good,” said Quinn.

  “How are you two paying your bills these days?” Huff asked. “What I mean is, what cases are you working on and who’s hired you? The police department has an interest in knowing.”

  “Oh, just your standard husband-wife cheating, and an occasional farmer complaint because someone else’s cows were grazing on his land. Every now and then employee theft from a department store or a bar that’s losing money and the owners want their bartenders checked out,” said Quinn.

  “Enough to pay rent, but nothin’ really exciting,” said Ethan.

  “Well, boys, that sounds nice…a lot of simple cases. I don’t believe it, but I haven’t heard any complaints about you either. Cooperation, boys, is the way to keep me off your backs. If you hear anything or get any leads at all – especially anything about Gustaf Vondolen, the Dutchman – I need to know. Okay, that’s all for now. Let’s see if we can cooperate with one another. I got nothing’ personally against you. I did some askin’ around, and there are strong opinions in the Albuquerque PD that you both got a raw deal. But that doesn’t change anything between us. Get me some real information next time!”

  “That guy’s so damn charming!” Quinn mumbled as the two men walked out of the police station after the meeting that day.

  Chapter XXXVi

  The community center or “rec center” in Santa Fe was a gathering place for many people in Santa Fe over 50. It was basically just a plain building with two large rooms. The front room was a lounge area with simple chairs and a few sofas. A large radio and phonograph was set up in the front room to play big band and ballad music of the day. Posters adorned the bulletin board in the front room with news clippings of various battles taking place around the world, and news of any local men or women in the armed forces. An American Flag hung noticeably in the foyer as guests walked into the center. Various posters, including “Uncle Sam Wants You,” “Support the USO,” “Rosie the Riveter,” and a Navy recruiting poster, were displayed as well.

  The back part of the community center was a larger room with no decorations but with ten card tables and four pool tables set up. This wasn’t a place where the wealthy and artistic crowd of Santa Fe went to socialize. That crowd, the eccentric crowd, would be found at places like Alex’s or at one of Santa Fe’s fine restaurants or museums. But at around 2:00 in the afternoon, the center was generally packed with 40 or so card players who bet on card games like Gin Rummy, Bridge, and Five Card Stud, even though the rules forbid gambling.

  Tommy Dorsey records were played, often with the enticing voice of their new young singer, Frank Sinatra, echoing throughout the center. So when Quinn walked into the rec center that Wednesday afternoon, everyone appeared to be listening to the music, playing cards, or talking with their friends.

  Skitts Jones was there too that day when Quinn walked in. Skitts was playing cards in the back section of the card room. These were the tables where the big money was bet. It wasn’t unusual for $100 to change hands on any given day at these tables.

  Quinn noticed Skitts almost immediately by his fedora, which Skitts wore all the time—even indoors. Skitts also gave his location away by raising and slamming his hand of cards down on the poker table when he won. And Skitts had just raised the current hand of his table ten bucks with the straight he was holding. Two of the four players at the table quickly folded, with one calling the bet. A pair of 10’s did not beat Skitts’ straight. Skitts raised his five cards up in the air with his right hand before slamming the cards on the table and laughing with his familiar cackle as he did so.

  “Gentlemen, Skitts Jones is so happy for your donations to his for-profit foundation this afternoon! Your generosity is so much appreciated! Now, shall we play some more?”

  Quinn flashed a quick smile. Quinn knew Skitts was the best card shark in town. If you played against him, sooner or later you’d be broke. Hell, thought Quinn, I’ve got to hand it to him. He’s found a place where he can make a livin’ playing cards.

  Quinn started to walk over to the table, when Skitts turned and saw him. “Gents, before the next hand is dealt…I gotta’ take a break. I’m gonna be out for about 20 minutes, so if I lose my seat, I understand. I’ll be back tomorrow. You can try to beat me then, but you better be wearing your lucky shirt!” He laughed while collecting his chips.

  “Detective Chase, what’s been goin’ on with you since our last meeting?” said Skitts.

  “If you got the time, let’s walk over to the park and talk about that stuff, Skitts,” said Quinn.

  “I got the time for you, detective!” replied Skitts, as he got up and the two walked out.

  “Some strange shit’s going on around here,” Quinn said.

  “You know, I sure could use a cold one, detective! It would help me think and remember so much better,” Skitts said with a sly smile.

  “Skitts, you old hustler…for a damned beer?” Quinn asked sarcastically.

  “A man’s got to stay hydrated, Detective!” Skitts said.

  “Okay, we’ll stop at the corner grocery store and get a couple of beers,” said Quinn.

  “Much obliged, detective…much obliged,” replied Skitts.

  They ended up with two cigars and two beers. They walked over to Clifton Park, which was the only park in Santa Fe that permitted public consumption of alcohol. “So…what’s on your mind, detective? What can old Skitts do for his friend today?”

  “I’ve got to find these three paintings, Skitts. Did you hear anything more about the stolen artwork in town?” asked Quinn.

  “Oh, a little bit here…a little bit there,” answered Skitts as he tilted his Coors bottle upwards, takin
g a liberal gulp. Quinn had played this game so many times before he was better at it than playing cards. “Got a light?” Skitts asked Quinn with a smirk on his face. He simultaneously cut off the end of his cigar.

  Quinn quickly pulled a match out of his box of matches, struck it, then lit Skitts’ cigar. He then pulled out a $20 bill and stuffed it in Skitts’ shirt pocket.

  “Well, I believe you were askin’ about three paintings in particular, right, Detective?” Quinn nodded. “Well, I got mixed news for you,” said Skitts. “The paintings you’re looking for…all three of them are here in Santa Fe. I’m sure of that. But I don’t know where. And that’s unusual for me, detective. But give me some time,” Skitts said with a smile. “Rumor around town is that there’s some new cat known as The Merchant —the big kingpin in charge of all the paintings coming in and out of town,” said Skitts. “Rumor also has it that there’s more comin’ in and goin’ out in the next few weeks,” Skitts said.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” said Quinn.

  “Well, that’s the interesting part,” said Skitts. “There’s supposed to be a show from Paris comin’ into town booked at the Lensic in the next few weeks. The rumor is they’ll be doin’ more than their vaudeville act…they’re part of the smugglin’ ring,” said Skitts.

  “Where are you getting your information from?” asked Quinn.

  “A little birdie told me, detective, but this little birdie sings true songs. You know I can’t give away everything,” replied Skitts.

  “My friend, I hope you’re not bein’fed bad information!” Quinn stated as he stuffed another $20 bill down Skitts’ shirt pocket.

  “That’s not likely, detective…not likely,” said Skitts brandishing a smile.

  Chapter XXXVii

  Quinn had Manny drive him up to Alex’s around 10:00 that night. Immediately he noticed things had been rearranged inside the large bar. The tables, chairs, and almost everything else was moved around the small stage set up in the rear of the building. The front bar with the high barstools was still open with a few people sitting there, but just about everyone else that night gravitated toward the back stage. Several portable spotlights had been set up above and to the side of the stage.

  “What’s going on tonight?” asked Quinn as he motioned for a drink.

  “It’s Cabaret night,” said the bartender. “Every so often Alex brings in entertainment. Last month we had a ventriloquist from back East. Tonight it’s a Cabaret-style burlesque show. Supposedly a touring show from Paris.

  “What?” replied Quinn. Just then he felt a tap on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice in his ear.

  “So you are a man of culture after all,” the voice whispered. He turned to his right and came face to face with Marika Kraus. “I have a table close to the stage. Come sit with us up front,” she said. With that she grabbed his hand and essentially pulled him off of the barstool. “Leave your drink here. We’ve got champagne at the table. Hurry, I want to get there before the show starts!” she said. Quinn followed as she pulled him towards the stage.

  Marika led him to a round table about five feet from the front of the small stage. The tables and chairs were jammed fairly close together as the patrons were settling in to watch the show. Quinn and Marika got there as the lights were dimming. Soon the lights were so low that it was nearly pitch-black inside. The next sound Quinn heard was a drumroll, and then the spotlight shined on the stage. A thin man of medium height with slicked back hair, wearing a black tuxedo with a slight layer of white paste on his face, dark makeup around his eyes and colored lips like a harlequin, walked onto the stage. Only this was no harlequin. He talked loudly.

  He spoke with a high-pitched voice that otherwise might have been annoying, but was strangely perfect for this occasion. His raspy voice pierced the air in the room.

  “Madames and Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen, Fine peoples of good character, and ahh maybe not so good character…Good Evening! Welcome to Cabaret Le Paradis from Paris! Ha! Ha!” he yelled out. “Here, you can drink a little, relax a little, and dream a lot about our beautiful ladies from Europe for you tonight! Here you can let your inhibitions down, your imaginations run free. There is no need to worry. If your husband, wife, or girlfriend thinks you’re having too much fun! They let you know with a pain to your side with their elbow! Ha…! Tonight, we give you a sample of our show. Our complete show will play at the Lensic Theater starting next Wednesday and then every night for two weeks. Therefore, enjoy a taste of our program tonight. “We hope you enjoy and we see you at the Lensic Theatre during the next two weeks.”

  “Now I present to you a woman of the Romani Gypsys of Eastern Europe. A beauty of risqué pleasures and mystery…Lady Lavinia!” And with that the small combo played a short introduction. The lights went out on the stage, and when they came back on, a dark-complexioned lady wearing a colorful free-flowing dress of orange, yellow, and purple that showed her midriff danced out. She wore a necklace of ivory trinkets and wore a red bandana. She also wore many rings on both hands. She danced out and sat at a small table with what appeared to be a crystal ball. The piano, accordion, and clarinet played some background music.

  “Welcome, my friends, to Lady Lavinia’s parlor!” the woman said. “Here, for a small fee, I will look at your palms, stare into my sphere, and stare into your hearts and minds, and tell you what your future is.” The music became slightly louder, and a rhythmical accordion and drumbeat ensued. The woman got out of her chair, spun around, and began to sing. She sang and danced to the pulsating drumbeat with two other similarly dressed ladies who came to join her. The clarinetist and other musicians played a melody that was repetitive and pulsated, sounding like a Bohemian or Jewish Horah wedding dance.

  The three women moved in unison swinging their hips and gyrating their midsections. They locked their hands and arms behind each other’s backs, and sang about the men that came to watch them. In unison they shed parts of their dresses, and their outfits became skimpier. At the end, all three well-endowed women were scantily dressed compared to when they started. They sang of traveling to other villages to perform for other people. One by one they danced off the stage with Lady Lavinia bowing to the audience. Then she untied a cloth bag affixed to her waist, opened it and ran along the edge of the stage inviting the audience to deposit money. The band played on. Most people sitting in the front dropped coins into the bag. She circled the stage, spun in a complete revolution, and then was gone.

  The combo band began to play again. The Master of Ceremonies in his tuxedo walked back out on stage. “Ha! Ha!” he said, pointing at the crowd with raised eyebrows and a sly smile. “You like?” he asked. “You like Lady Lavinia and her friends? Come to the Lensic next week to see them again!”

  Quinn and the people of the audience clapped. Marika and Quinn were hypnotized by the gypsies, caught up in their intoxicating perfumes, and their rhythmic dance. “My fine Ladies and Gentlemen,” the Master of Ceremonies then said. “That was only the beginning, Ha! Now we bring to you an act of death-defying bravery of human being against the dangerous vicious snarling beasts of the world!

  “Madames and Messieurs, please welcome Giselle and Simon and their trained poodles!” The lights went out briefly, and when they came on again, six small poodles ran out onstage with their handlers, performing various stunts and tricks. The poodles were decorated with sparkling sequins. They ran around the stage as the band played. They ran under and jumped over chairs, through hoops, and down a miniature slide with stairs. There was a bell at the top of the slide with a string hanging down, and the dogs rang the bell by yanking down on the string before they slid down the slide.

  A fat man in costume with an oversized mustache and necktie, wearing suspenders, baggy pants with two flaps extending about six inches out from his waist rearwards, and a beautiful woman scantily clad wearing a garter belt and high heels, were the dog handlers. The woman directed the dogs by blowing a whistle and pointing a riding crop as the poodles pe
rformed various stunts. The fat man stumbled around the stage mumbling at the dogs and trying to chase them as they ran from obstacle to obstacle. But he could never catch them. At the end of the show, and in total sync with the band…two of the poodles came from behind the man as he wiped his forehead following his arduous chase, jumped up, grabbed onto the two flaps, and refused to let go. The weight of the two poodles brought their handler’s pants down to his ankles, thus exposing his polka-dotted shorts beneath. The crowd gasped, and laughed loudly. The large handler, obviously embarrassed, even though this was a planned stunt, displayed a look of surprise and tried to cover up. The crowd continued laughing. The man then chased the poodles from the stage floor, pumping his fists at the dogs as they all ran off the stage.

  The Master of Ceremonies came back out onstage gesturing to the couple and their poodles by raising his arm and pointing. “Giselle, Simon, and their killer poodles, Ladies and Gentlemen!” the MC yelled. The crowd responded with clapping and whistles of approval.

  “I introduce to you now, straight from Paris, a lady whose beauty has been compared to the Goddess Venus!” The drummer started a low-pitched drumroll. “This is a lady who captivates with sight, sound, her incomparable charm and grace.…Please welcome Mademoiselle Sadira and friends!”

  The crowd clapped enthusiastically. The piano began a very light entr’acte again, and the lights went out. When they came back on, five scantily clad women were onstage straddling and leaning over the tops of their chairs. All had short black or blond hair, and wore tight nylon blouses with garter straps and belts. All wore tight-fitting hose with high-heeled black shoes. The spotlights focused on the one in the middle, as she was extremely well-endowed with unnaturally large bosoms.

  She looked up and got up from her chair. Her well-toned body was accentuated by the spotlight. She leaned back and stuck out one of her long legs. Then she began…more speaking than singing. “A woman is like a flower in the springtime, Monsieur…With care and love she blooms before your eyes, Monsieur! She only asks a little of your time, Monsieur…”