by Jake Logan
“I see the roulette wheel is being spun again,” he pointed out.
There was no need for any other distractions. The problem that had brought Slocum to Chicago was big enough to command all of the other man’s attention. “That’s Cam back there now, but Bo and James are lurking about somewhere. They’ve been asking folks about you.”
“I figured they might. What about their other friends?”
“Other friends?”
“Surely there’s got to be some other partners with them three. Stupidity loves company.”
Chuckling at Slocum’s twist on a common phrase, Terrance said, “They don’t pull in enough money to keep more’n three interested at a time.”
“What about the women James runs through here?”
Judging by the look on Terrance’s face, those girls weren’t exactly welcome additions to his payroll. “That’s the only way I’m coming out ahead in this deal. The girls slip me a percentage of what they make in exchange for their room and board.”
“Just room and board?”
“Plus the occasional helping hand from the boys who protect the theater’s gambling interests.”
Craning his neck to get a complete look at the busy room, Slocum asked, “And where might these strapping young men be?”
“Standing at their posts, ready to take a swing at anyone other than the three that deserve it the most. It’s been that way ever since James damn near killed one of them.”
“Sounds like a sloppy arrangement,” Slocum grumbled.
“Why do you think I went through the trouble of finding you? Once those three are tossed out of here for good, things will get back to running the way they’re supposed to be run. You make it a good enough show to discourage anyone else looking to horn in on my theater and I’ll be much obliged.”
“That’ll cost extra. Ever heard of a man named Mike Harper?”
After a confused scowl, Terrance asked, “Who?”
“Didn’t think so.”
“What have we here?” Bo hollered from one of the card tables near the edge of the room. It wasn’t until he shoved his chair back and got to his feet that the skinny wheel spinner set himself apart from the other card players. The wide brim on Bo’s hat went a long way in keeping his face hidden, and when he removed it, he flashed a toothy smile. Slocum doubted his sudden bout of courage was merely fortunate timing.
Sure enough, Slocum picked out James stomping down the stairs while hitching his suspenders up over his shoulders.
“Thought you were smart enough to stay away, John Slocum,” Bo said while stepping away from his table. He was still careful to keep it between him and the man in his sights, though. “I know that’s your name, Slocum. I know plenty about you.”
While walking toward the card table, Slocum wasn’t able to keep his eye on the stairs that emptied to a platform on the bar’s side of the room. He was, however, able to position himself so he could see any movement from that side of the room on the edge of his field of vision. Once he was close enough to speak instead of shout at Bo, Slocum said, “You found out my name. I get that much. How about I have a quick word with you?”
“Now you wanna talk, huh? Before you were quicker to draw your pistol.”
Banking on whatever Bo might have heard about him, Slocum put a steely edge to his voice and said, “I could do that if you like. It’d make for a quicker end to the evening for one of us.”
Bo wanted to keep his scowl in place, but James wasn’t close enough to make him so comfortable. The gunman was still picking his way through the people gathered near the stage, who didn’t seem to have any clue about or interest in what was happening in the rest of the theater. Rather than destroy the bravado he’d worked so hard to build, Bo nodded and walked with Slocum toward the front door. He stopped short of stepping outside, taking up a position with his back to the wall beside the door. “What is it you want to say?”
“I found the man you sent to follow me.”
After a flicker of a twitch, Bo replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Michael Harper. We had a nice little talk.”
The flicker came again, which was more than enough to convince Slocum of Bo’s ignorance on the matter. Steering things back on course, he said, “Never mind that. I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Grateful for talk he could understand, Bo replied, “If you want to become one of my partners, I think you may need to talk to someone else before me.”
Slocum had no trouble spotting James struggling to cross the room. Not only was the theater most crowded in the area near the stage, but James was obviously too drunk to walk straight. The anger flared like a red beacon on his cheeks, and whenever someone stepped in front of him or nudged him when he tried to pass by, James would stop to give them a piece of his mind.
All of that only bought Slocum the time he needed. “No, someone told me you’re the man with the business sense,” he said.
Bo couldn’t help but puff his chest out with pride.
Leaning forward and dropping his voice, as if bringing Bo in on a precious secret, Slocum told him, “I’ve been paid to get you out of this theater and I will most definitely get the job done. All you need to do is find somewhere else to spin your wheel, leave this place alone, and I’ll split my fee with you. Your men will get your hooks into another place and we’ll all be a little richer.”
“How much richer?”
“Half of my fee is a hundred and fifty dollars,” Slocum said with such certainty that he probably could have gotten the lie to float in front of a judge and jury. “That’s fifty for each of you.”
“Fifty? That’s it?”
“Fine. You’ll get two hundred and your partners will get fifty. Just make sure they don’t find out,” Slocum added with a nudge.
James was getting close enough for his voice to consistently break through the noise passing for music in the place. Glancing back in that direction, Bo dropped his tone to a fierce whisper when he said, “We’re making a hell of a lot more than that now.”
“A bit of money in a living man’s hand is worth a lot more than a bigger amount stuffed into a dead one’s pockets. This is an easy payday for both of us. All I need is to look like I’m holding my end up to get some bigger jobs later on. You pick up and move somewhere else and live to see another day. Maybe I’ll owe you a favor.”
Now, that registered with Bo like it would in the mind of any businessman. Favors could be more valuable than gold if they were owed by the right people. And since Bo seemed like one of the men who believed the rumors he’d heard about John Slocum, he had to be thinking he was looking at a very valuable favor indeed. When James’s voice exploded nearby like a stick of dynamite, Bo matched it with some bellowing of his own. “You’re damn right you’ll owe me! And I aim to collect.” In a hasty whisper, he added, “There’s an opium den not far from here. You know the one?”
“Yeah,” Slocum replied. “I do.”
“Meet me there this time tomorrow and we’ll make our arrangements. Bring the money.”
“What’s that about money?” James snarled. His breaths were coming to him in haggard gulps. Struggling through the uncooperative crowd had left him looking like a disheveled wild man. Setting his sights on Slocum, James plastered a smile onto his face and said, “I didn’t think you’d have the sand to show your face around here again.”
Ignoring the bait being dangled in front of him, Slocum said, “Really? Guess I’ll leave then.”
Under any other circumstances, Slocum would have rather died than give in to the likes of James so quickly. This time, however, it was worth it just to see the befuddled expression on the pimp’s sweaty face.
5
Slocum didn’t stay away from the Stamper Theater for long. He walked outside and went down the street just far enough to let him know if he was being followed. After all that had happened so far, his senses were keen enough to pick up on the movement of every drunk in the sh
adows and the sound of every hacking wheeze from behind closed doors. If someone was following him, they were better than the sort of killer who would work with Bo or his partners.
Satisfied that he was on his own, Slocum circled around the block and approached the Stamper from another angle. He didn’t go in through the front door, but knocked on one of the back entrances instead. After a few sharp raps of his knuckles, the door opened just wide enough for a cautious eye to peer out at him. The crack widened so Slocum could also see a sliver of smooth skin, and painted lips that parted to ask, “Is that you, Mr. Slocum?”
“Yes and call me John.”
The young woman who opened the door did so quickly and stepped aside while lowering her eyes. “Eve said you were in town. She also said . . . well . . .”
“I can just imagine what she said,” Slocum replied while stepping inside.
“Did you get locked out or something?”
“Isn’t it early for Terrance to lock up?”
“Yes, but that would explain why you didn’t come in through the front.”
The door opened into a cramped backstage area filled mostly with dressing rooms for the dancing girls and a few small storage closets. Some of the narrow doors along the tight hallway looked like they might open into offices, but Slocum wasn’t about to check behind each one. He simply let his ears lead him to the source of the loudest noise and his eyes draw him to the light pouring in from the larger room on the other side of the velvet curtain. “Had to sneak around back,” he told the young lady.
She was more than a foot shorter than him and had wispy brown hair and finely rounded cheekbones. Her skin was smooth and pale, due to the powder she wore on some very appealing natural traits. Thin, dark red lips curled into a cute little smile as she whispered, “If you’re trying to hide from Eve, you should be safe back here.”
“She’s got that kind of reputation, huh?”
“It’s obvious she’s sunk her teeth into you.”
“More than once,” Slocum replied with a wink. “But no, I’m not hiding from Eve. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let anyone know I was here, though.”
She nodded quickly. “I can do that, sure.”
“Where’s a good spot for me to look in on the gamblers?”
“Which ones?”
“The roulette players.”
Her eyes grew wide, and when she pulled in a breath, the young lady quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Is this about Bo and Cam?”
“Yep. Are they still here?”
Without saying a word, she pointed straight up.
“They’re upstairs?” Slocum asked.
She nodded.
He reflexively lowered his voice to match the young woman’s. “Can they hear us from up there?”
Leaning in close to him, she whispered, “Probably, since we can hear plenty that goes on upstairs. Banging, giggling, hollering.”
“What about talking?”
“Sometimes.”
Slocum looked at the ceiling over his head, as if he could see straight through to the rooms above. “Would you happen to know where Bo and those other two might go to talk without folks listening in?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“Because I want to listen in.”
When she saw the mischievous grin on his face, the young woman quickly grew one of her own. “We can try this way,” she told him as she led Slocum down the hall and toward one of the narrow doors that he’d spotted coming in. They were in one of the corners at the back of the building. On stage, the song shifted into a rowdier number and the audience showed their appreciation in all sorts of boisterous ways. Those added layers of noise gave the woman some courage as she pulled one of the doors open and motioned for Slocum to follow. Sure enough, it was a storage space, just as he’d figured.
She went into the large closet, pushing aside a bunch of brooms and mops that had been resting against the wall in a clump. Slocum got inside with her and eased the door shut so only a bit of light from the hallway trickled inside. That served to filter out some of the noise from the stage show, but also made her shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“It’s all right,” he assured her. When he stroked her arm to settle her nerves, he felt her rub against his hand rather than pull away from it. Apparently, she wasn’t uncomfortable for the reasons he’d thought.
Footsteps knocked against the floor above them and were much too heavy to have been made by a woman. Others shifted overhead as well, soon to be followed by deep, muffled voices.
“Lots of rooms were built one on top of the other in this place,” she whispered. “James uses one for himself and it’s right above us.”
The steps shuffled a bit, but the voices stopped. Then more steps knocked against the floor, and were soon followed by the creak of a door. Now that he was paying such close attention to the sounds on the second floor, Slocum wondered if they were always so easy to hear, in every place. It made him think back to all the noise he’d made in hotel rooms, with plenty of folks going about their business directly beneath his bed.
Although that thought brought to mind plenty of peculiar notions, Slocum didn’t allow them to distract him as he listened to what was going on. The young woman in there with him squirmed, and every rustle of her clothes and every movement of her body was a distraction. Slocum took hold of her in both hands just to keep her still. When she tried to speak, he silenced her by placing a finger on her lips. Judging by the way she stood and looked up at him, she wasn’t entirely opposed to their time in the dark.
“What’s your name?” he whispered.
“Maddie.”
“I need you to be quiet, all right, Maddie?”
“All . . .” Rather than say another word, she nodded and leaned a little closer to him.
Slocum couldn’t make out exactly what the voices above him were saying. Every now and then, he thought he could make out a word, but he never caught enough to put together a whole sentence. The parts he did catch were barely enough to tell him Bo and the other two were the ones doing the talking. For that, he had to rely on what Maddie told him. There wasn’t an obvious reason for her to lie and Slocum doubted that there were lots of groups of three men spending time in a room together when there were so many women to be had. Also, the voices weren’t rowdy or wavering enough to be coming from three drunks. That knocked another healthy portion of the theater’s customers from consideration.
What Slocum could hear was the tone of those voices, which came in clipped chunks as steps paced toward the back of the room above. It didn’t take much imagination for Slocum to imagine that the men had tossed out a few curt greetings, started their discussion, and were now making their way to preferred spots or chairs. A few throats were cleared and the conversation continued.
Slocum found himself looking toward the ceiling, but all that did was agitate the kink in his neck. He lowered his head, cocked it so one ear was aimed upward, and closed his eyes. Maddie let out a little sigh and put one hand on Slocum’s elbow. He took a quick peek to see what she was doing, but didn’t get anything besides a nervous smile from the young lady.
One voice droned on for a few seconds like the sound of a distant waterwheel. Slocum was certain that was Bo, whispering in a hiss just as he’d done when conspiring with Slocum earlier. After that, a gruffer voice rolled completely over the first. That would be James. Not only was the large man impatient, but he accented it by stomping back and forth across the floor. Bo’s voice rose to try and be heard over James, until they were both loud enough to make Slocum completely certain that he was listening to the right group.
It was also clear to him that the men were not engaged in a friendly conversation. Bo kept a strong, steady tone while James exploded in short, angry bursts. Some of those bursts were loud enough for Slocum to hear every last profanity. Even Maddie winced at some of the more creative obscenities.
“Do they argue like this a lot?” Slocum whispered.
/> “Sometimes, but not this bad. At least, not what I’ve ever heard. I can go ask some of the others if—”
“No, no,” Slocum said while taking hold of her once again. “Just stay put.”
Although Maddie continued to glance toward the door, she clearly wasn’t in a hurry to dash through it. Instead, she touched him as if she was reaching for forbidden fruit. It was well within reason that Eve would have spoken of her encounters with Slocum to the other girls at the theater. Since Terrance hadn’t come at him with a shotgun yet, Slocum figured all of the women were keeping their mouths shut around the boss. Keeping a secret from the man in charge would only make it that much juicier.
The closet became quiet enough for Slocum to make out more and clearer pieces of the conversation upstairs. Bo’s voice was steady and insistent. Whenever James tried to cut in, he was silenced by another voice that spoke in clipped, muffled tones. That had to be Cam. Slocum could easily picture the former deputy stepping in to keep the peace, but being rebuffed by the bigger gunman.
Bo finished his piece in a hurry. Every now and then, Slocum heard his name mentioned along with several references to money. Since the news went over about as well as he would have expected, Slocum guessed the deal was being delivered as he’d intended. James wasn’t happy about it whatsoever, which further told him that the skewed offer was being made to leave Bo the chief beneficiary and the other two coming away with a minor profit at best. Slocum grinned and looked down to Maddie as the footsteps overhead began to disperse.
“I think I heard all I need,” he said.
Even after he stepped aside, Maddie remained where she was. “I’ve heard some things about you,” she whispered.
“I figured you might have.”
“Eve does a lot of bragging, but I didn’t hear anything about you being her property.”
“I should damn well hope not.”
“I’m guessing you don’t want Bo or them other two to know about us listening in on them?”
Glaring at her hard enough for it to be felt in the dark, Slocum asked, “Are you making a threat?”