“She’s not. We were friends, but it was a very long time ago. She’s just – a memory – I suppose. I shouldn’t have -”
“Well, she’s very much here, now!”
“You’re right. She is here.” Jacob drew his hand over his face, wearily. The happy din of Glenn Miller’s band had stopped, and instead, the muffled noise of a woman talking through a microphone made its way through the closed door.
Susie. Or rather, Betty. Carrying on her plan, despite the difficulty. As always. Jacob sighed again.
“I didn’t expect to see her again. She needed my help, but that’s all there is between us. She’s married now, and I’m – I mean, I was – stepping out with you.”
Adina scoffed, her jaw set tight. “So, you won’t need to see her again, then?” she challenged.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Adina barked out a hard laugh. “Of course, it is! You must think I’m a real Dumb Dora to brush it off that easily. You’re impossible, Jacob Lawrence! You’re working day and night, cancelling our dates, and now this. Something’s going on, Jacob. You won’t talk to me about the case, even though I already know all about the military heists! Who do you think types up the reports?”
“Keep your voice down, please!” Jacob hissed, glancing toward the door.
“…and you’re ignoring calls from General Brandway and I’m copping the heat for it. I really thought we had something special, but these secrets and lies…” Adina looked down at the fireplace. The glowing coals reflected in the tears in her eyes.
“You want to talk about secrets?” Jacob said, resentfully. “When you came to my office with Brandway, you pretended we didn’t even know each other! There was no harm in telling him we were dating. Why can’t he know? You wanted to come here tonight but then you’re angry the minute you see me. And you’re distant, as if your mind is altogether somewhere else. You’ve been avoiding my questions for weeks – clearly there’s something you’re not telling me as well.”
A flash of fear crossed her face, but she quickly masked it.
“There’s nothing,” she said.
“You’re scared,” Jacob realized, as the words left his mouth. “Why?”
“I am not scared. I can take care of myself. And I certainly don’t need a man telling me how to live my life! Especially one that lies.”
Wiping away spilled tears, Adina lifted her chin defiantly and stormed from the room.
Jacob stood for a moment, staring into the dying fire. He felt miserable.
With the door now ajar, the revelry from the ball room spilled in, loud and clear. The audience was growing louder with each moment.
“Sign. Sign. Sign.” They were chanting.
Betty’s plan was working. As always.
Jacob leant back against a small desk that sat alone by the fireplace. There was no question that Adina was lying. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He wished for just a second that he had Betty’s gift, that he could simply reach into Adina’s mind and lay bare that darkness that was growing between them, holding their new relationship to ransom.
Selfish, he thought. To want to steal her thoughts without sharing my own. There was no way he could ever reveal the extent of his relationship with Betty to Adina or tell her why he couldn’t break ties with Betty now. This business with Donny, the heists, the orphanage – he was in far too deep. And a twist in his gut told him, he didn’t want to give her up anyway. Not again. Not yet. For years he’d felt as wane as the dying fire glowing in front of him, but now, despite his anger and frustration at the mess he found himself in, he was aflame. Adina had sparked that fire. But now, was someone else keeping it alight? Little wonder she doesn’t trust me with her secret.
Jacob took a deep breath and straightened up. He turned around. The wooden desk he’d been leaning on was old and well-worn. There were too many drawers, polished silver feet and narrow shelves that stepped up on either end. It was piled with neat, hand-labelled folders. By any account the desk looked old and well-used, but Jacob had a niggling feeling about it that he couldn’t place. A plain leather chair sat on the opposite side to where he stood, the seat cushion shaped from constant use. Someone sits here every day. He glanced at the folders. Every one of them was stamped with military insignia. Someone important. Jacob shook his head, trying to clear unhelpful thoughts, then turned to go.
No.
He spun back around and looked again. Even reading it upside down, the name on one folder was unmistakable. Jacob’s heart pounded as he reached for it, slowly turning the folder around to face him.
Betty Jones.
Sweat pricked the back of his neck and he shot a glance to the door. He flicked the folder open. A single typed page. A dossier. A photograph of Betty, taken from a distance. Someone knew what she could do. Someone important was watching.
Jacob’s fingers found his shirt collar. He pulled it away from his throat. For a moment, he stood, paralyzed. The air in the room seemed to have been sucked out.
Then, on an impulse he knew he would regret, Jacob grabbed the folder. He shoved it inside his jacket, up under his left arm. Pulling his jacket straight, with his arm pressed to the side of his body to keep the folder from slipping, he walked briskly to the door, turned the handle and opened it a crack. The atrium was deserted. Every guest was now inside the ball room and their applause and chanting had reached fever pitch. It was deafening. Without another thought, Jacob stepped out and closed the door behind him. He reached into his top pocket with his right hand and pulled out his handkerchief. He rubbed the door handle clean, then stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. In less than a minute he was out of City Hall, heading for his car. As the cold night air cooled his burning face, guilt and concern hit him in equal measure. Adina had fled before he could offer to drive her safely home. Betty was expecting him to stay for the proceedings. It seemed he had disappointed them both.
Adina was angry, her steps quick as she made her way back toward City Hall. Her vision was now clear of the tears that had been swimming in her eyes when she’d left Jacob. He’d been right, of course, about that room – they shouldn’t have broken in. It was only now that her head was less muddled that Adina remembered why. Through quiet discussion between General Brandway and his colleagues at the Transportation and Overseas Supply Division, Adina had overheard that the room had been converted into a military command center for the war. She’d seen security milling through the crowd when they’d first arrived, and looking back now, was surprised it had been left unguarded. Perhaps the revelry in the ballroom had pulled the guards away, or maybe nothing of consequence was ever left out overnight.
Adina felt a fool. After she’d run out of City Hall for the subway, she’d realized her coat was still in the cloak room. She was shivering but didn’t want to go back. Not only for the risk of running into Jacob again, but in case she saw him. It had been a mistake to come here tonight, though she hadn’t known it when Jacob had mentioned the invitation. Now, she regretted every minute she’d stayed.
Adina had watched for nearly ten minutes by the subway stairs in shadow, waiting to see Jacob leave. When he finally did, she turned back to collect her coat, hoping fervently that he would be gone too. Adina couldn’t even bring herself to think his name. His name made her stomach churn. He was just him. The man intent on destroying her. The one who had ruined her life.
For the second time that night, Adina stepped through the entrance to City Hall and made her way to the Concierge desk. Self-conscious of her tear-battered eyes, she passed her coat ticket to a neatly groomed man in uniform and he disappeared with a smile, returning a minute later with it draped over his arm.
The concierge stepped around the counter toward her, holding the coat up for Adina to shrug into.
“Miss,” he said, graciously.
“Thank you,” Adina replied. The thick wool felt heavy and reassuring on her shoulders.
“If I may be so bold, Miss,” the man said.
“A face as pretty as yours, should have a gentleman who’ll put a smile upon it.” His eyes crinkled, kindly. “Not one that casts such a shadow.” Adina felt her face burn with embarrassment. No doubt the man had seen her run by him with tears in her eyes, not ten minutes before. If only it was that simple. She couldn’t blame Jacob entirely for the unfortunate turn of events this evening. At the moment, every step she took felt plagued with dark, unforgiving consequence. And I brought it all upon myself.
“Thank you.” Adina said, quietly. “But I’m not sure I deserve to smile right now.” She offered him the only smile she had left, one tinged with sadness, and passed the man a tip. “Have a good night,” she said, turning away.
“You too, Miss,” he said. “Keep your face out of those shadows.”
Adina stepped down the red carpet again and into the cool air. There were a few people leaving now, waiting for valets or heading toward the bridge on foot. Although she could hear the band playing upstairs, it seemed that the formalities were over.
Adina quickly crossed the garden again to reach the sheltered subway station entrance opposite the main doors. Walking inside it felt rather like entering a telephone box to descend into a cathedral. The City Hall subway had been opened to great fanfare at the turn of the century. It was an icon to illustrate the power and importance of a rising city. Adina stepped down the concrete steps quickly, the tapping of her shoes echoing off the tiled walls. From there, the station opened into a breathtaking display of Romanesque Revival architecture that housed a Ticketmaster’s booth. The conductor had long gone home for the evening. Adina followed a second flight of stairs down to the ornate Guastavino tile vaulted ceiling surrounding a sharply curved platform. Aesthetically, it was a sight to behold – a place of majesty. It should have felt welcoming. Inspiring even.
But it didn’t.
The platform was empty. Not a soul was waiting. Green and gold tiles glowed an odd yellow hue under the light of the chandeliers and Adina looked up to the three great skylights, which had been brilliant with leaded glass mosaic and sunshine the last time she had seen them. Tonight, they pressed sinisterly in, bleak and blackened-out with paint, a new precaution against air-borne enemies after the Pearl Harbor attacks. Shuddering, Adina drew tighter into her coat. Underground, the air was colder. She’d travelled from this station occasionally in the past, but never at night. It felt abandoned, eerie. She wriggled deeper into her coat. Adina was no stranger to a late-night commute, her work often required it, despite her father’s insistence it wasn’t appropriate or safe for a young lady to be out on the streets alone. But she’d never felt scared in her solitude. She never felt vulnerable. Until now.
Forget it. With a turn on her heel she began to leave. I’ll dash across to Brooklyn Bridge station instead.
Suddenly, the familiar drone of a train rattled up the line toward her. Adina turned back and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She adjusted her handbag and coat, moving forward to the platform’s edge, ready to step onboard.
Whoosh!
The train came into view, rounding the steep curve in a jolt and sped through the station in a cacophony of noise, leaning dangerously close to where Adina stood. It didn’t stop. The lit carriage windows flashed like a strobe light as it passed, throwing her face into sharp relief for the few dozen commuters onboard who failed to look up and notice her. Within moments, it was gone again, leaving nothing but a trailing rattle and her pounding heart.
Overhead, one of the chandeliers flickered and died. Its buzz echoed up the empty archways of the line.
“For goodness sake!” Adina muttered, once again on the verge of tears. She bundled her arms around her handbag and began to run. Disappointment and fear coursed through her and she was suddenly desperate for the cool night air above. Her heels clapped on the first set of stairs and rang from the walls under the great vaulted ceiling as she reached the ticketing platform. There were shadows all around her, dark corners and alcoves that suddenly seemed to be closing in.
And from one of those dark corners, stepped a man.
Him.
“Good evening, Miss. Sonberg,” he said quietly. Adina skidded to a stop with a cry on her lips, not ten meters from her escape. The blood drained from her face. He was in her way.
“Please, not tonight,” she whimpered. If she was cold before, now she was frozen.
“I trust you enjoyed the ball?” he said, apparently amused by the reaction he had elicited. There was an edge about him tonight. His eyes were sharp and menacing and his overcoat seemed to confine a barely restrained rage inside it’s stretched fabric. Adina had already learned that at the best of times, Donald Pinzolo was dangerous. At the worst – she didn’t want to imagine.
“I – I didn’t stay.”
“Good for you. Turns out, it was a flop. To say the least.” Donny looked around, taking in the architecture. “Nice place, isn’t it? Barely gets used anymore. Didn’t anyone tell you they close it at night?”
“No.”
“Dangerous. For a young lady to be out alone at this hour.”
“Yes,” Adina breathed. “I should probably go.”
Donny stepped forward, into her path.
“Not yet, doll. We need to talk.”
“Please, Mr. Pinzolo. Don’t make me do it again. People are getting killed because of me –” she stifled a cry.
“We have a deal, Miss. Sonberg. Surely, you’re not skipping out now, when we’re so close to the end? I’d hate for your Aba to have this little number turn up in his private mailbox.” Donny reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a black and white photograph. He waved it, tantalizingly, in front of her face. She was laid bare in the image, her body naked and entangled with Brandway on his own office desk. It had been taken without permission, from somewhere far away, through the split drapes of a window. Nevertheless, it was her. Her mistake. And now, her downfall. Adina reached out desperately to grab the photograph from his fingers, but Donny snapped it out of reach. “Think of the shame, Adina,” he growled, softly. “Your father such a well-known man. Such a good man. A pillar of family values, a respected member of the synagogue. Imagine. Retired Associate Justice Amos Sonberg, raising a chippy for a daughter. And with a married man, no less. Twice your age. The shame might just kill the old geezer.”
“No!” Adina begged. “Please, Mr. Pinzolo. Just let it be! I did what you want -”
“He’d have to turn you out, girl,” Donny said, with a critical eye. “And that job of yours? Gone. Brandway won’t want you around causing trouble. Nor will his wife, and I’ll make sure she knows all about it. Mrs. Gloria Brandway – benefactor of the New York Women’s Morality and Temperance League, isn’t that right? Quite the dried up old gasbag, from what I heard. What a lot of damage she could do. Think of the talk. You’ll be shunned, girl. You’ll. Have. Nothing,” he finished slowly, with a cruel hiss.
Adina looked aside, her face and eyes burning. She couldn’t bear to see him. It had been this way for months. Every time he loosened the chain and she thought she might finally be rid of her regrets, Donny called in another favor. Her heart was so wracked by the burden of what she’d done, she could barely think straight. All those transport guards sent to their death to pay the price for her own indiscretion. It was killing her.
“You’ve towed the line, Miss. Sonberg,” Donny said, matter-of-factly, all trace of malice suddenly gone. “I’m not an unreasonable man. You’ve given me all the transport routes I wanted so far. In my book, that makes us just about even.”
Adina looked up, her pulse racing with the promise. You’ve heard this before, she screamed inside.
“One more job. Tomorrow night. I don’t care what part of town.”
Nausea rose into her throat. He’s lying. It’ll never end. Every cell in her body screamed her lips to just agree, to make the call and give him what he wanted. The price to disobey was too terrible to risk. He was right. Her father would die of shame. Her jo
b would be lost, she would be shunned from society, Brandway’s wife would see to that. But to stay complicit in these murders, was murder itself. It was killing her, day by day. And Pinzolo’s ‘favors’ were never-ending. Unless I end them myself.
“No,” Adina said quietly. “I’m done.”
Donny stepped in, chillingly close.
“What did you just say?”
“I can’t do it.”
“Think about what you’re saying, Miss. Sonberg. Let’s not forget that what you’ve committed here is treason against the U.S. Government. Leaking classified information that got soldiers killed. They’ll lock you up for years if you confess. And there’s no point trying to implicate me in all this, you won’t even get me to the courthouse steps. I buy protection, Miss. Sonberg. The very best.”
“But I can’t live with myself,” she whispered.
“Sure, you can, doll. Or your life will be over anyway. It’s not a choice.”
Adina squeezed her eyes shut to block out the paralyzing fear that had been growing inside her for months. Slowly, she breathed out, then opened them once more to meet Donny’s cold stare.
“It was always a choice,” she said, in the strongest voice she could muster. “And I made the wrong one. But I’d rather be punished for it forever than let you kill any more of those men.” Without waiting for a response, Adina dashed past him up the concrete steps into the dark night beyond.
A few minutes later, Felix came down the stairs. Donny hadn’t moved.
“What’d she say, boss?” Felix asked, cautiously, taking in the unnatural line of Donny’s shape under the yellow tinge of the chandelier. “Where’s it gonna be? Rail shed again?”
Donny didn’t look up. The lines on his face seemed carved, deep, like cracked stone. Felix took a step back, covering his left hand reflexively. His eyes darted to the concrete steps he had seen the woman leave by from across the park.
He knew that stance. The last time he’d seen it, Donny had pinned his hand to the table with a knife.
Avon Calling! Season One Page 28