O’Hara takes a stumbling step backward, his mouth hanging open, his cheeks flushing as Van Pelt slaps the cuffs on him. “What are you doing? How dare you? I’m the special prosecutor on this arrest. You can’t do this.”
Van Pelt leads him out, kicking and screaming the entire way. Once he’s out the door and loaded into the paddy wagon with the rest, Dewey holds up the ledger.
“This was good work, son. The city owes you a debt of gratitude.”
“Just keep my name out of it.” I snort. “There’s more than enough in that ledger to put Dutch away for a very, very long time, and I expect you to do it, too. And I expect you to keep O’Hara behind bars as well.”
“I think I can manage that. Especially if Mayor Walker has anything to say about it.”
“And if anyone asks, I got out of here before the bust went down, escaped into a secret passage, right?”
He nods. “Will do. And you’d best hightail it out of the city tonight. We’ve got people outside waiting to arrest Dutch and his crew when they try to leave the basement, but he’s probably gonna figure out it was you who set him up at some point.”
“Don’t worry, my family and me, we’re already gone. We square?”
“Five by five.”
“Good. If you’ll excuse me then.” Taking my hat and jacket off the rack in the office, I grab my leather satchel and make my way to the exit in Masie’s dressing room, the one that leads out to the west side of the street where my cab is waiting.
We circle the block for the better part of an hour before I double back and re-enter the club through the back-access door. The club is empty. Broken glasses litter the floor, reflecting the minimal light like stars in the night sky. Making my way to the hidden bar, I hit the lever, grabbing the cash out of the till and stuffing it inside a small leather satchel.
Once I’m finished, I hit the lever again, then take one last glance around the club I’d poured so much of my time and energy into. I can see, like ghosts, all the hours Masie and I wiled away here. I can hear the twins laughing as they ran around the busy feet of the workers painting the ceiling. This place, once so full of light and hope, is now nothing but another corpse, the remains of another thing Dutch and his people destroyed.
As I turn to leave, a shadow crosses in front of me and I drop my sack, pulling the gun free of my holster with an awkward jerk.
“Benny, Benny. You didn’t really think you were gonna get off that easy, did you?” Artie stands between the door and me, his hands stuffed casually in his pants pockets as he approaches.
“Just let me pass, Artie,” I say, forcing my hand not to tremble on the handle of my weapon.
“Why? So you can run off with my money and my fiancée?” He snorts. “That ain’t gonna happen.”
I take a deep breath, my confidence waning. “I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me, seeing as I’m the one holding the piece.”
Artie shrugs, leaning casually against the bar, only two steps from me. “If you had the juice to pull the trigger, you’d have done it by now. Besides, you kill me and the whole Luciano family comes crashing down on you. And my uncle isn’t a man you want on your heels, trust me on that.”
“So whaddya want then?” I demand, lowering the gun. “You’re a businessman. What are you angling for here?”
He shakes his dirty yellow hair off his forehead, grinning. “I want this. And thanks to you, I’m going to have it. Not just part of it, but the whole shebang. With Dutch behind bars, Rothchild is going to be looking to us to run his operation. And since I was practically family, I’m the logical choice.” He runs a single finger over the marble bar top. “Needs a new name, though. I was never overly fond of canaries.”
“So why are you here?” I ask, an uneasiness building inside me.
“Well…” He pulls a short black knife from his pocket, exposing the blade with a flick of his thumb. “I mean, I can’t just let you off the hook that easily. Someone has to be punished for this mess. An example must be made. Gotta say, though, I didn’t think it’d be you. I figured JD was behind this.”
My breath catches in my chest, and I tighten my hand around my gun.
“Plus, you did sleep with my future wife,” he adds, lunging so quickly I barely have time to dodge the blow.
His advance continues. He swings and swipes the knife through the air as he advances on me. All the while, I’m backing away.
“Calm down, Benny. It’ll be over quick.” He grins, “Or maybe not. I ain’t decided yet.”
He lunges again and I trip over a fallen chair, flailing backward as the gun flies from my hand and skids across the floor. Before I can draw a surprised breath, Artie lands on top of me. It’s all I can do to keep the blade from my throat as we wrestle across the dirty floor. I feel the cold steel slice my cheek, and the warm blood seeping from the wound.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find Masie and take good care of her. Maybe find a nice plot next to her mother.”
Something inside me breaks at his threat and I roll, managing to reverse our positions. With the added leverage, I turn the knife, twisting it in his hand until he cries out in pain, then driving it forward until it sinks hilt deep into his shoulder.
He screams and I push myself off him, taking the knife with me, though my hands are soaked in his blood. Rushing to the bar, I toss the knife in the sink and grab a white towel, balling it up before I return to Artie where he writhes on the ground.
“Here,” I say, pressing the towel to the wound.
He laughs dryly. “What are you doing?”
“I’m saving your life. Now stay still. I’ll call an ambulance.”
Standing, I retrieve my gun. I balance it in my hand for a moment before finally emptying the bullets onto the floor and tossing it away. “I just want out.”
Artie sputters. “You want out? There is no out. There’s only a pine box and six feet of dirt.”
Ignoring him, I move toward the phone, curtly ordering the operator to send an ambulance to the club before hanging up.
“It’s not over,” he screams from the floor. “It’s never over. There is no out!”
JD and I make it back to the penthouse before the raid is even over. We’re both already packed, but I take the time to sneak into Daddy’s room and stand over the safe.
“Do you know the combination?” he asks, making me jump.
“Don’t scare me like that. I thought you were Daddy.”
He snorts. “By now, Dutch is in the back of a paddy wagon on his way to the tombs, then, probably to Blackwell Island to do a nice long stretch.”
“This isn’t how I wanted this to go down,” I admit, shaking my head.
JD wraps me into a tight hug, something he hasn’t done in so long that the smell of him is foreign for a moment and my body tenses. “Benny is right, Mas. This is the best thing—the best possible way this could have ended. Otherwise, it ends with one or all of us dead. You know that. Besides, it’s time Dutch paid for his sins.”
“And he should,” I offer, pulling away. “So why do I feel like such a louse?”
He smirks. “Because you, dear sister, are a good soul and whatever else Dutch may be, he’s our father. Like it or not, family means something.”
I sigh. “Thank you for helping, for doing all this for us.”
Crossing the room, he takes a seat on the edge of Daddy’s bed. “Oh, I didn’t do it for you. Or not just you, at least. June and I need a fresh start.” He hesitates, licking his bottom lip before continuing. “I know about what happened to her, what Lepke did.”
I swallow before speaking. “She told you?”
“Didn’t have to. I could see it in her eyes, the hurt, and then, when I touched her for the first time, after, well, I knew.” He shakes his head, “You took care of her. I’m grateful for that, but it should have been me. I should have been able to protect her, but I was so wrapped up in trying to be the man Dutch wanted me to be that I let her get hurt. And I’m not goi
ng to let that happen again.”
“You really love her, don’t you?” I ask, seeing for the first time the genuine tenderness in his expression.
“I really do. But I’m not good for her, not here, not like this. We need to get out just as much as you and Benny.”
I nod once. “So do you know the combination?”
He bites his bottom lip. “It’s your birthday.”
The revelation hits me like a shot, adding to my already profound guilt. My fingers moving swiftly, I open the safe and pull out the contents.
“You want half? It’s as much yours as it is mine,” I offer.
JD shakes his head and stands. “Nah. I’ve been skimming off the club for years. I’ve got more than enough dough to get us started. Consider that your dowry, because I fully expect Benny to make an honest woman of you.”
I laugh. “It’s gonna take more than a ring to make an honest woman of me.”
He chuckles as well. “Fair enough. But what happens now? I mean, do you know where you’re headed?”
Nodding, I close the safe back up. “I’ve got a pretty good idea. And you?”
He tilts his chin up, looking off into the distance. “Going out west. Benny and me, we talked about it already. He knows where to find me when you’re ready.”
“I’ll miss you,” I manage to say without my voice cracking. The realization of what we’ve set in motion—the distance we’ll need to keep—settles in fully.
His face turns back to me. “I’ll miss you too, Mas. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”
I shrug. “No promises.”
He holds out a hand, and I take it in mine. Together, we walk out of the room and down the hall to where our bags sit, already packed, in the foyer. I stuff the cash and bonds into my smallest leather suitcase and strap it shut.
“Sir, your car is waiting,” Butler says, stepping into the room.
JD nods, gathering his things. “So long, Butler,” he says, saluting with a finger to his forehead. “Keep an eye on the place while we’re gone.”
Butler nods once, then adjusts his glasses, which have slipped down the narrow bridge of his nose.
“Rudolpho,” I say, holding my arms open. He does the same, and I step into them for a long, warm hug. “I’ll miss you.” I say, and though I’ve carefully practiced the speech in my head, how JD and I are fleeing town to escape the heat from the cops—and our enemies—for some reason, I can’t bring myself to say any of it. Can’t bring myself to lie to him.
Finally growing uncomfortable, he steps back, his shoulders squaring. “Miss, if I may say something?” I nod, and he continues. “You should go say goodbye to your father.”
My face immediately falls into a frown. I’ve betrayed Daddy, in the worst way I could, and now he’ll spend years behind bars—just to buy my own happiness. The guilt is nearly suffocating.
“I can’t.” I say finally. “He’ll understand.”
Even as I say it, I know it’s both true and a horrible lie. Yes, he’ll know why we fled. He might even hate us for it for a while. But he won’t understand why, not really. And I don’t have the courage to tell him.
“He is your father, whatever else he may be, and you should say goodbye. Not for his sake, but for your own.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right, but feeling like the worst coward who ever lived.
“Goodbye,” I say again.
“Goodbye, Miss. I shall miss you dearly.”
His words are enough to start my eyes filling with tears, which I blink back swiftly. Hefting my bags, I make my way down to JD’s waiting car.
“JD, take my bags. I’ll meet you at the station. I have something I need to do first.” Pulling a pen from my purse, I scribble an address across it and hand it to him. “Here’s the pickup spot.”
He presses his lips together in a thin line. “Alright. Just don’t be late.”
Hugging him quickly, I launch myself into the side street and flag down a taxi.
“To the Tombs, please.”
As I sit in the small room, the metal chair digging into my back, I can’t help but retrace my steps in my mind. How had we gotten this far off course? I replay, rethink every choice, every action that’s brought me to this place. And I can’t help but wonder if there’s something I could have done, some way I could have avoided this.
The door opens and Daddy shuffles in, the shackles still attached to his wrists. The cop, one of the handful of regulars I recognize from the club, sits him in a chair across from me.
“You have ten minutes,” he says to me, nodding.
“Thank you.”
Once he’s gone, Daddy huffs. “How much did this little visit cost ya?”
I shrug. “Does it matter? I needed to see you. Make sure you were okay.”
He slumps back in his seat, raising his hands. “Do I look okay?”
I lick my bottom lip. “Considering the alternative, yeah. You do.”
He huffs again, avoiding my gaze.
“JD and I are leaving town today,” I begin. I’m not sure what kind of reaction I expected, but he just sits in silence, staring at the door, so I continue. “Your partners are taking over the club in your absence. As soon as they can get the property released back to them, that is.”
He opens his mouth, running his tongue along his teeth, but still says nothing.
“Is that it? You don’t have anything to say to me?” I demand, my voice rising.
He finally swings his gaze to my face, his expression slightly amused. “You know, I always figured JD would take over for me one day. Even though I knew he really didn’t have the stomach for it. He could never do what it took to survive in the business. But for some reason, it never even occurred to me to take a closer look at you.” He sighs. “I suppose I saw too much of your mother in you. I never realized just how like me you really are, not until it was too late.”
My mouth goes dry. I didn’t expect him to put it together so quickly, but I’m sure now. I’m sure he knows, or at least suspects, the part I played in his downfall.
“You can always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest. It’s the honest ones you have to look out for,” he adds, turning away again.
“I would have stayed,” I admit. “I would have done anything you asked, if only you’d loved me enough to let me make my own choices.”
He shrugs, scratching his chin with both hands. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? Can’t change the past.”
“It matters to me,” I admit, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees. “Would you really have sacrificed my happiness—my life—for the sake of your own?”
When his eyes swing back to me, his gaze is ice cold. “I would. I suppose we have that in common.”
I swear, rising to my feet. “You stubborn ass. I’m about to walk out that door and out of your life forever…and that’s all you have to say to me?” He says nothing. “Fine.”
Crossing the room, I grab the doorknob, but before I can open it, he stands. “Wait. There is something I want to say to you.”
I spin on my heel, folding my arms across my chest to deflect what I’m sure will be another one of his cruel barbs.
“I want to say I love you. Always have. And if I were in your shoes, I probably would have done the same thing. So,” he hesitates, “take that how you will.”
“I love you too, Daddy,” I say, tucking my chin into my chest, my eyes on the floor. I don’t tell him that I never wanted it to be this way, because he’s right. I’m too much like him for my own good. That’s why I want to be with Benjamin so badly. He makes me want to be better, makes me try harder to keep the dark parts of me at bay. Vinny had once told me that I was the light, but he was wrong. Benjamin is the light, and I never want to live without that light ever again.
Maybe, if Daddy had embraced the light instead of choosing the dark, our lives would have turned out differently. But he had no use for the light, or for those who brought it. I see that now. And my heart ache
s for him.
“Be safe,” he whispers after I turn my back to him.
I don’t look back at him when I leave. Part of me wants to throw my arms around him the way I had done as a child, the other part wants to slap him across the face for all the times he’s hurt me—for all the ways he’s let me down. But I do neither. I just open the door and walk out. Making my way out of the sweltering police station, I slide into the back of my cab, refusing to look anywhere but ahead as we roll down the street. I may not be proud of what I’ve done, but the one thing I realize is that every day is a gift, every breath is a chance to make something better of ourselves, to create the life we want to live.
And I plan to make every moment count.
The next morning, Dutch’s arrest is all over the front page of the papers. Everyone is buzzing about the corrupt special prosecutor and the hardworking detective who put it all together, taking down the head of a huge bootlegging operation. Dewey took full credit, as I’d hoped he would, and he’s even being considered to fill O’Hara’s very tall shoes. I know there should be something, guilt maybe. But all I feel is a deep sense of relief. Ma and the twins are safe. Masie is safe. Even I’m safe, at least for now. Until one of Dutch’s partners gets a good look at the ledger JD and I faked, until my part in all this comes out, and I know it will eventually.
Of course, all that had come at a terrible price for both of us.
Tossing the paper boy a new nickel, I take a copy, tucking it under one arm as I make my way toward the train station. Dickey’s family home is just a few blocks away, and I pause outside their door to slip a folded note into their mailbox.
It’s a lie. A letter from their son telling them he loved them and he’s heading off to make his fortune in Chicago working construction for the next World’s Fair. I tell them not to worry, but to know he’s doing something good with his life.
Of course, he’s not doing any of that, and up until his last breath, he’d have said he hated his father and resented his mother. But that’s not want they need to hear. And sometimes, a comforting lie is easier to handle than a sad truth. The envelope has a few hundred dollar bills tucked inside as well, more to ease my own conscious than their financial suffering.
The Canary Club Page 27