The Noah Reid Series: Books 1-3: The Noah Reid Action Thriller Series Boxset

by Wesley Robert Lowe

  Wangdan bows deeply. Olivia and Abby are most impressed that his head touches the floor. “Yes. The Tiger and Crane.”

  “Well, we don’t have much need for that in New York. If someone’s got a problem with you, they’ll just shoot you,” says Olivia.

  Wangdan and Noah give each other a knowing glance but decide not to say anything about the encounter with the gorilla.

  “Right,” says Noah. Shoot me first. Please. Or put me back on the next plane to Hong Kong.

  “I am so looking forward to hearing the two of you perform. Noah has told me so much about you,” says the polite Wangdan.

  “Most of it lies. Don’t believe him,” says Olivia.

  Noah and Wangdan follow Olivia and Abby into the club.

  ***

  It’s hard to believe that a place can be so busy on a Monday night but Café du Music is one happening place for people with means. Heck, the thirty dollar cover charge and two drink minimum is chump change for these upscale jazz aficionados. As much as Queenie wanted to buy out the joint, Benjamin still couldn’t stop his paying regulars from showing up. He was happy though to refuse the freeloading media.

  Monday’s Showcase rules are very strict. In order to get a space, you have to get through Benjamin. If you’re fortunate or talented enough to get through that, every act gets fifteen minutes and no more. There’s a five minute changeover break for new performers to get onstage and the old performers to get offstage.

  Despite the fact that most performers are only decent or average at best, patrons keep coming back to Café du Music. There’s just something about seeing a star in the making before they’ve made it big that makes it an irresistible attraction. And at Café du Music, if one decides to participate in some non-liquid powdery refreshments, no one pays much attention. After all, this is jazz. Substance abuse among musicians and their friends is as traditional as twelve bar blues. This probably contributes to the party atmosphere, with patrons slapping tables in time with the music and shouting “Play that thing” when there is a particularly hot soloist.

  Not at Queenie’s table though. Queenie, Wangdan, Noah, Olivia, and Abby share a table at the side of the stage, listening intently.

  Benjamin is the emcee and he’s behind the mic onstage now. “Well this has been a pretty good night, wouldn’t you say?”

  He pauses for applause.

  “My family has had this place now for over eighty years, and in that time we’ve had more than thirty thousand new artists come up and strut their stuff for Monday Night Showcase. Some of it has been bad.”

  With impeccable timing, Benjamin pauses again while the crowd laughs.

  “Well actually, some of it’s been downright awful. But once or twice a year, someone comes along that makes slogging through all the crap worthwhile. Will our last act be like that or are they gonna make you want to leave before last call? Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give it up for the ‘Gershwin Girls’, Abby Sung and Olivia Southam, direct from Hong Kong.”

  There’s thunderous applause as the two girls come up and join the drummer and string bass player onstage.

  The next fifteen minutes floats by like a dream. The music swings and struts as Abby and Olivia take the audience on a tour of some of the sweetest music this side of heaven. “Summertime” from the opera Porgy and Bess, songs from An American in Paris, the classics, “Our Love is Here to Stay,” and “I’ve Got Rhythm.”

  Finishing off the final song with a flourish never seen in the jazz room before, Abby does a handspring on the piano lid and lands sitting down beside Olivia as the pianist does a final swoop with her hands down the keys.

  Benjamin comes back onstage, clapping enthusiastically as he steps to the microphone. “Eye candy, ear candy and a circus at the end. What a treat! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for A & B, Abby and Olivia, Alpha and Beta, East and West, Yin and Yang.”

  If you’re a jazzer and you’ve just played an intimate club in New York with a hundred and seventy-five of the most knowledgeable jazz patrons in the world, clapping or snapping their fingers to your music ... well, life just doesn’t get any better than this.

  Even Queenie is happy. Even though she was prepared to paper the joint with friends and colleagues, she’s glad that she only had to fork out the dough for half the patrons, paying their cover charge and buying all the drinks.

  The happiest clam though is Benjamin. Fifteen thousand of the money Queenie borrowed came back to him right away. And she still owes the full hundred and fifty. Now that’s a business to be in.

  ***

  To hoots of approval, applause and a standing ovation, Abby and Olivia make their way back to their table where a celebratory bottle of champagne awaits.

  “That was totally awesome,” says Noah. He looks into Olivia’s eyes and intones seriously. “You made the right choice, Olivia. This is where you belong.” He gazes over at Abby. “I guess Hong Kong is not going to be seeing much of either of you anymore.”

  “Not if I can help it,” says Queenie.

  Olivia’s embarrassed at her faux pas. “My bad. This is Queenie. She is the architect of all that you see tonight and hopefully of our futures for the foreseeable future.”

  Noah grins and offers his hand. “Oh, you’re the reason I hopped onto a plane with one day’s notice to get here. Great to meet you, Queenie. This is my associate, Wangdan. He’s a Shaolin monk.”

  “You don’t look like a monk to me,” says Queenie coyly. “You look more like well ... a movie star.”

  Wangdan chuckles, slightly embarrassed. “I had never even seen a movie until three weeks ago. We were rather isolated in Heaven.”

  “Heaven?” says Queenie with surprise.

  “That was the name of the monastery because ‘Heaven on Earth’ was the original vision. But sad to say, there was a lot more earthly influence than anyone wanted to admit.”

  Wangdan looks at Queenie. “What is it you do, Queenie?”

  “I work in the entertainment industry. Specialize in music. These days you have to do a bit of everything. I find artists, manage them, put together record deals, and go on the road with them.”

  “That sounds exciting.”

  “Excitement lasts for thirty seconds. After that it’s work. In order to find the cream, you got to scrape through a lot of scum.”

  “How long have you been doing this?” asks Wangdan.

  “Wangdan, it’s not cool to ask so many questions,” states Noah. “Forgive my friend. He can be intense, if you catch my drift.”

  “Intense is totally cool. I like intense, and I like a guy who wants to cut through the bull. Music has been my life all my life. Never interested in anything else. My iPhone has three thousand songs. Listen to it constantly. But hey, that’s just what I do to make ends meet. That’s not my ‘real’ job.”

  “What’s that?” asks Noah.

  Queenie leans over and whispers in Noah’s ear. “I’m an assassin. I kill bad taste.”

  It’s an awkward moment.

  “Where we come from that’s not a good thing to say,” says Noah.

  “Then it’s a good thing Olivia and Abby came here then, don’t you think?” says Queenie with a pixie smile.

  Now that’s a loaded awkward comment that no one wants to touch.

  “Hey, anyone tired? I got us all an invite to a special Big Apple party,” says Queenie.

  How could anyone refuse that, even if they’ve been traveling non-stop or practicing since they got up in the morning?

  ***

  Alexei is fuming. Hassan hasn’t returned his phone calls for over twelve hours. I know I no should work with bastard. Stick to Russians.

  The bulky brawny Russian has an urgent matter to discuss with the Iraqi. He wants to visit Skyscape to impress a young female singer named Lena and her mother/manager, who have come in from Moscow. Alexei wants to visit tomorrow night and wants Hassan to make sure that no expense is spared in making sure that the most favorable impression is made.
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  Alexei has been talking with them for two months and this will be their first meeting in person. He wants to make that one of many. Firstly, because he thinks Lena will be a star and he wants in on the action.

  And of course, he wants another kind of action as well. He’s never had a mother/daughter combination before.

  I never should introduce Queenie to him. I bet he’s doing her now.

  The Russian gets even angrier at the thought. He and Hassan had put a ten thousand dollar bet on which of them would get to bed Queenie first. It’s actually the only reason he went along with fronting money when Queenie approached him with the ‘pre-landing buy’.

  He never ever does that, so he’s getting bitten in the ass twice: once by Queenie delaying the delivery and the other by Hassan who’s not answering his calls because he’s doing his part to win the bet.

  Somebody’s gonna pay.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Even though the Vector Building is less than a ten dollar cab ride away, there’s something about being driven around in a classic Lincoln Town Car limo that pushes the happiness button of even the most humble missionary’s kid and frugal ex-Shaolin monk. And at five hundred bucks an hour with a one hour minimum, Queenie decides a scenic tour is in order to get her money’s worth. And yes, even on Tuesday, New York is definitely not sleeping at 1 a.m.

  An hour takes you on a journey that’s more than scenic—it’s a trip from the exhilarating to the depressing. From a glorious view of the lights on the bridges, outlines of skyscrapers and city skyline, it’s only a few minutes to a broken reality of johns, addicts, pimps, and prostitutes on the street. Night is definitely a time for the displaced, disoriented or disenfranchised.

  At exactly 2:23 a.m. the limo arrives in front of the Vector Building.

  The security guard on shift smiles at Queenie and waves her through. The rest of the party however has to go through the security check: the metal detector and a pat down in a security room.

  “Don’t worry. Just routine. No big deal. Olivia and I did it the other night.”

  Unfortunately, it is not so routine for Wangdan. The metal detector alarm goes off when he passes through and a frisk search shows he is carrying three metal martial arts throwing stars.

  “I’m sorry, sir. You cannot enter with these,” says the guard.

  “These are part of my culture. They are not weapons,” says Wangdan.

  Wow, he’s learning to lie. Noah steps in. “Forgive my friend. He is a monk and Shaolin monks require that these religious icons be with them at all times.” If we’re gonna lie, let’s make it a whopper.

  “You can kowtow or bow wow to any god you like but there’s no way on heaven or in hell that those are coming through.”

  “Let’s go. Party’s waiting,” says Queenie.

  “Sorry, I will not go in,” says Wangdan.

  Now even Noah’s confused. There is definitely nothing special about carrying the stars around. “You sure about that, Wangdan?”

  “I am sure. You enjoy yourselves.”

  Queenie steps in. “These are my friends. Please let them in. I will vouch for them myself.”

  There is not even a hint of threat in her voice but the security guard re-considers and allows Wangdan through.

  Noah whispers to Wangdan, “Why did you do that?”

  Wangdan says quietly, “There is something wrong here.”

  Queenie shakes her head. “Sometimes these guys take themselves too seriously.” Then she shrugs and leads the party to the elevator. They go directly to the fifteenth floor. The doors open but there is no one around.

  “Where’s the party?” asks Noah somewhat skeptically.

  “It’s in Studio 5.”

  Queenie leads them down the empty hall to the entrance of the recording room. As they approach, the recording room door swings open and voila! Inside are Jonny, Tim and thirty string players.

  “Olivia, Abby, meet Grammy-award winning producer Tim Ritchie.”

  Tim smiles, “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Did you just finish a session?” asks Olivia.

  “No Olivia, Tim is going to be your producer.”

  She points to the empty chair in front of one of the grand pianos and the microphone on the stand beside it.

  The easy-going T-shirt and jeans guy smiles. “Hey, I got a call from Jonny and Queenie telling me I had to check you guys out. Downloaded the demo you did last night and it’s fabulous. Got to work, did an arrangement ...” He points to the string players. “We did a few run-throughs and we’re ready to rock and roll.”

  It also didn’t hurt that after Jonny met with Tim, he met with Queenie, who dropped twenty-five g’s on the table. Not bad for a day’s work, even if you are a platinum record producer. Especially when your non-musical habits cost you ten grand a day and Queenie is one of your chief sources. And Jonny’s hints about Queenie coming into some big bucks and maybe helping finance his movie didn’t hurt either.

  “Are you ready?” asks Queenie. It’s not really a question.

  “I’ve been ready for ten years!” says Abby.

  You gotta admire Queenie. This girl knows her stuff. And she’s a go getter. No BS. Says something, then delivers.

  “Then let’s do it,” says Tim enthusiastically.

  ***

  In addition to a recording room full of recording equipment that any studio gearhead would kill for, the control room in Studio 5 is built for people who will spend a lot of time in this room. Everything is functional, comfortable and useful. Tables at exactly the right height, adjustable incandescent spot lighting, video monitors so accurate and vivid that they make you feel like you’re right there on the set of a music video. The chairs and sofas are directly from Scandinavia. There’s something about the well-built comfort from the land of snow and cold that seems to make the creative juices flow.

  And right now, they’re ready to flow.

  Tim’s in a good mood. Queenie offered him 50 g’s of product instead of 25 grand cash. With his habit, he gobbled up the deal right away. He’s also happy that Olivia and Abby’s tune didn’t suck. It made working on putting together the arrangement downright enjoyable. That’s something he hasn’t felt in years after working with boy band after boy band. And finally he’s happy because he can do something to get on Queenie’s good side. If he does well on this job, maybe she’ll open her Asian Rolodex to him. Forget that he’s never even made a home video. Those Chinese are damn rich and they’re gonna love his movie idea.

  It was easy for Queenie to humor Tim. The fifty grand worth of product cost her less than ten. As for Tim being a movie producer, well a promise to make an introduction is not the same as the promise for funding. But hey. If things happen the way they might and if Tim’s movie project really is that good, maybe she’ll go in on that deal too.

  ***

  Tim’s choice for this session with Olivia and Abby is to go all analogue. In a digital world this approach seems archaic, but for many audiophiles there is something about the “warmth” of analogue that makes up for the fact that there is a small amount of “noise.” He sits behind a classic Neve console with a Studer recorder behind him.

  He presses the talkback button to the musicians. “Okay, remember you’re not thinking about the next half hour where this hot guy is in your bed. You’re thinking about twenty years from now, when you’re both a little more experienced and know what’s what. At any rate, that’s what was missing in the demo. Technically perfect, but ladies, I think you both need men, real bad.”

  Ain’t it the truth? But does it have to be exposed like this in front of all the musicians and staff as well as Noah and his sidekick, Wangdan? But there’s no time to think about any of that. Olivia opens the song with solo piano, the lush strings join in a few bars later to accompany Abby in singing FOREVER I WILL LOVE YOU.

  With a full rhythm section and orchestral backing, the music is like velvet – sensual, soft and seductive. Abby’s voice is magnifice
nt – reminiscent of the power of Whitney, yet with an added tenderness that makes the sound distinctly her own.

  Gazing at the ceiling, Abby finishes the ballad – a star is born.

  But …

  Tim pushes the talkback. “Not bad. Actually a whole lot better than not bad. But I got an idea. I had my band in here tonight before the New York Symphony came in and we did a little something. Play and sing along. See what you think.”

  The track starts—and holy shit! This tune is smokin’. The drummer kicks ass, the bass player is playing out of his mind, and the rhythm guitars are solid as Gibraltar. This is a perfect bed for Abby to sing, Olivia to play to and the string players to accompany.

  Abby rises to the occasion. There’s a frenetic energy as she just gives everything to every line, every note – FOREVER I WILL LOVE YOU is transformed from a ballad to a pop anthem, movin’ and groovin’. Abby finishes with a sassy little step and a twirl of her jet black hair.

  “Now that’s what I call music,” says Tim. “That’s a wrap. C’mon into the control room, girls.”

  ***

  “I been at this for twenty years so I’ve seen a lot of acts. Abby, you’re right at the top with the best of them. You were good too, Olivia. Hope you and Queenie can work things out because I’d love to work with you for real,” says Tim.

  “What do you think needs to be done?” asks Queenie.

  “Not too much,” says Tim. “Abby’s pitch is real good. Energetic as a dynamo. Looks that make me want to get a divorce. She’s the full meal deal. But of course, she needs pushing.” He looks at Olivia. “You both do. Like, you guys are real nice girls.”

  Tim shakes his head.

  “And that’s the problem. Nice girls. Not only do they finish last, half the time they don’t even get in the race. You know what I mean?”