“Yep. Let’s explore.”
We slowly stepped inside what we quickly realized was that tunnel we’d been hoping to find. But the entrance was loaded with junk. Mainly old trunks. Old trunks and old clothes lying on top of old trunks and old tables with boxes on top of old trunks.
“Costumes?” Babs was running her hands over a beaded, sequined, flashy red dress. “Wow! Can we say Billie Holiday? What the hell?”
I spotted a cabinet that held a turntable-style record player. “Maybe Jazz Babies performers stowed stuff in here?” I squealed. “Babs! Look at this. An old Victrola with very old vinyls!”
I was in heaven. "Josephine Baker. Benny Goodman. Duke Ellington. Fats Waller. Someone named The Cotton Pickers. Uh. Wait. Holy Mama! The Saturday Night Fever soundtrack?”
“What the . . .?" Babs giggled. “Look at this! Uriah Heep? How did that sneak in? Dang.”
“I guess it means someone was still stowing records back in the Seventies. Cool. They had one song I always used to dance to when I was a kid,” I told her. "'Salisbury Park.' I may take this with me and see if it still plays on that turntable I bought myself for Christmas. It should. It’s a thirty-three and a third.”
“Nice. We can listen and dance all over our small apartment. That assumes or presumes that we’re going to get out of this mess. I guess we should head on into the dark and see if we end up in the speakeasy?”
We nodded together and headed down the tunnel bumping into furniture nearly every step of the way. Including an old bar.
Babs grabbed me. “Think that sucker is stocked?”
“Babs, my friend, if it is, it’s probably bootleg bathtub moonshine and we’d die faster than Howard or Tammy could shoot us.”
She smiled “Ah. Good point. This place is wild crazy. I love it.”
I pointed. “Look. Not to be clichéd but I literally see a light at the end of the tunnel. I hope there’s a door that leads out.”
Babs gleefully stated, “I hear music! Sounds like it’s coming from above us. Okay. There’s a ton more junk here. Bound to be a door beyond it.”
I suddenly felt panicky for the first time since we’d seen Howard enter Jean’s office with a gun in his hand and his stupid top hat and tails. “What if there isn’t? What if we’re stuck in a tunnel and Howard and Tammy are right behind us? Which reminds me.” I ran back to the doorway and removed the chair. "I think now I’d rather be stuck in the tunnel than turn around and have our pursuers catch up to us."
Babs hugged me as soon as I rejoined her by a stack of crates that sadly didn’t lead to a window. “We’ve been strong and invincible so far. We simply have to stay that way.” She grinned. “We could wait here and try to decapitate the villains with old vinyls? Oh! Look!"
“Yes?”
“Basement! Bootsie! We’re in the basement. Not a tunnel anymore.” She swung the flashlight around. “See? Tons of junk but also tons of room and there’s bound to be windows down there that lead to the outside world or one of those stairs that opens up onto the sidewalk. Consider this; the bootleggers had to get inside somehow and get out again, didn’t they?”
We took deep breaths. I grabbed Bab’s shirt and hung on so she could lead with the light and search for an exit.
We took our time. Our knees were hurting; the fear was finally catching up to us. I was ready to call this whole night quits, go home and soak in an Epsom-salted tub for hours.
I didn’t even bother to check my watch to see how long it was taking or what time it was.
“I’d say two-forty-five,” Babs stated.
“Quit reading my mind.”
“Sorry. Force of habit. Plus staying in your head keeps me out of mine and I'm not liking mine at all right now.”
“Which would be—why?”
Silence for a moment, then, “Bootsie I’m scared for Joey. Those two—uh . . . “
“Assholes? Shitheads? Dastardly bastards?” I supplied helpfully.
“Killers.”
“I wish you hadn’t gone there.”
“Well, that’s what they are. Not in a fun way. Jeez! They murdered three people and shot three others for sheer effin' greed. That’s why I’m scared. If Howard and Tammy don’t come after us, they’ll go after Joey. We’ve got to get word to the hospital to guard him.”
I stopped and grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Hey. Cross that one of your worry and to-do lists. Sebastian is way ahead of you. While you were getting cleaned up he told me that he’d assigned a detail to watch over Mr. Carmichael through the night and beyond. Joey's safer than we are. And at least he knows where he is. Unlike us. This is the biggest damned basement I’ve ever seen and the junkiest. It’s spookier in here than it was in the tunnel. Hoarder city.”
Babs nodded. “Time to find a door.”
“Ooh! Babs! A light switch. Say a fast prayer it actually connects to Con Ed and we can see.”
I clicked it. Illumination.
“Wow. I’m not dead. But I think I’m in heaven.”
Chapter 4 1
“I know we’re in the middle of a crisis,” I commented, “but remind me to come back here and explore sometime if we live. This place is better than the Hollywood FX museum for funky props and set pieces. Every speakeasy, bar and whatever else Jazz Babies used to be must have used this place as storage since Prohibition.”
I pointed out the cabinets and old lamps and steamer trunks and numerous other paraphernalia that seemed more suited to a stage set designed for a period Noel Coward play.
There were creepier things as well. The mannequins in dressing gowns and ball gowns and nearly life-animal suits were lonely and gruesome.
“Bootsie, there are some neat dance costumes. Come, take a look.”
She was right. The Ginger Rogers-style feathered dance gowns and beaded skirts and sequined corsets and tuxes spanned a good fifty feet of rack space. Shelves graced the tops of several racks. Hatboxes hat been neatly stacked on those shelves. Babs winked at me. “Ya think?”
“Oh yeah. I can’t stand it. I don’t care if Tammy comes popping right out of that old wardrobe thingee. I’m opening one of these boxes and if there are Guys and Dolls fedoras I’m adding another felony to our list and grabbing at least one. They're so damned hard to find with the wide brim. Besides, an old fedora would probably qualify more as a misdemeanor. I mean, it’s not like anyone has taken care of these guys or bothered to ship them to a museum or theatre or something.”
I’d lifted a lid, found a fedora and a huge lacy garden hat that looked more apropos for the Ascot Gavotte scene in My Fair Lady when suddenly I heard a sound coming from door I knew I’d shut. Apparently it did not lock automatically. The sound was voices. I froze. Babs froze. I frantically scanned our portion of the room to see if there was a window nearby we might be able to slither through. Nothing.
“Pssst!” was the soft hissing from Babs, followed by an index finger pointing. Very smart. She’d found costumes for every cartoon-animated character ever seen on a screen.
I quietly slithered over to row of mannequins who were dressed as Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner, Pinky and the Brain, Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck and a very cute Pepé le Peu. I wondered if we could just start throwing mannequins and hope to knock out whomever had entered the basement long enough to let us run although as yet we hadn’t found an escape route.
The voices grew louder and the words clearer.
“Come out, you bitches! We know you’re in here.”
Tammy. Sweet and classy as always. I looked at Babs. She looked at me. In another minute we’d be found and we’d be dead. I slowly backed up and nearly screamed when I touched the cold fingers of a mannequin elegantly attired in top hat and tails. If I hadn’t heard the masculine voice echoing Tammy’s dulcet tones with a “Don’t fight us now—you can’t win,” I’d’ve thought I’d run into Howard instead of a tall Mr. Peanut.
I took a step to the right and ran into another mannequin—and inspiration. I motioned to Babs
, who immediately understood. She was about five steps away from me; trying to hide under Speedy Gonzalez’s sombrero. It wasn’t working. She slithered quickly and quietly to my side.
We undressed the mannequins and swiftly donned the garments. Or furs. Or whatever one wanted to call outfits for a moose and a squirrel. A famous moose and squirrel. I had loved watching Rocky and Bullwinkle when I was kid and had no qualms about currently merging with the moose to escape the maniacs hunting through the basement.
We didn’t bother to cover the mannequins with anything once we’d removed the costumes. I did slap that absurd foo-foo garden party lace hat on top of Babs’ Rocky the Squirrel cap since I didn’t have time to find another spot for it. We moved next to the newly naked mannequins and stayed as still as we could. Actresses. We could do this. I once played a housemaid who had to pretend to be asleep while mucho action had taken place for about ten minutes. Admittedly, I was supposed to let an occasional snort or snore escape my being through that entire ten minutes but mostly I'd been very quiet and very still. It was a fun show. I fervently wished I was currently lying on that divan in front of a friendly audience.
My mind was digressing. I assumed this was a self-preservation technique the brain had created for stressful situations. My mind did not want to imagine what would happen if Tammy realized that the big moose was breathing and that she could easily shoot me with no one the wiser. It was obvious no one had been in this basement for about fifty years other than to dump more junk.
Then I heard more voices coming from what I figured was the entrance to stairs leading to Jazz Babies. This was good. More than one voice meant that Tammy and Howard might be less cavalier about shooting us—or the persons now entering the space.
I recognized a voice and came close to fainting in fear. Not for me anymore but for him. Sebastian. With. . . ? Damn. Sebastian with a wounded gun arm and no idea that two murderers had also heard him and would be more than happy to finish the job they’d started a few weeks ago. I didn’t even stop to wonder the whys or hows of Sebastian’s appearance. I just knew I had to stop what was coming.
I yelled, “Sebastian, watch out!” and dropped to the floor, antlers and all.
All hell broke loose. Shots were fired at me, at the stairwell and the ceiling. I’m not sure why but I supposed that Tammy and Howard might have suddenly become a bit rattled.
Then there was silence. Standoff. But Tammy and Howard knew where we were now. Knew that Bullwinkle was none other than Bootsie Kittredge, flanked by a stalwart Rocky aka Babs Harrison.
Then the clacking of heels followed by the tapping of boots sounded on the concrete floor. Tammy and Howard were on the move, not bothering to go with any sort of stealth. The were well aware that Sebastian and whoever was with him couldn’t simply going to pop out from wherever they were hiding because she and Howard would immediately hear them and that —as they say—would be that. I figured the plan was to kill Moose and Squirrel first, then attack the rescue party.
I had to do something. I could see Babs' eyes behind the squirrel costume staring back at me. And silent communication again won out.
I was on the floor. Also on the floor stood a large metal pole that had once been part of a costume rack. I inched my way forward and grabbed it. And waited.
Within seconds Howard Krempowsky’s feet were about fifteen inches from where I lay. The pole was in my hand. I raised it and swung as hard as I could which admittedly wasn’t terribly hard since I wasn’t in the greatest position for a javelin throw. But it had the desired effect. Howard stumbled and tripped forward into a pile of mannequins, dropping the gun in the process. I could hear Sebastian and buddy running from the corner of the basement toward me.
Tammy whirled around. She spotted me on the floor and smiled. She lifted her gun.
Behind her a moderately plump grey squirrel quietly rolled into a ball and did a superior forward somersault, knocking into Tammy’s knees like a short, angry cannonball. She dropped to the floor.
Suddenly arms were around me and I was being held as tightly as was possible for a man with an arm in a cast who was simultaneously kicking the gun Howard was desperately trying to reach off into a pile of steamer trunks. Howard grabbed Sebastian’s ankle and pulled him away from me. An old-fashioned fistfight broke out. Howard had the advantage since Sebastian only had one good arm and Howard was punching the injured one. I managed to get to my feet, pull off my moose antlers and start thwapping Howard over the head with them.
While the trio of injured detective, killer and slightly demented moose were entangled; Tammy had gotten to her knees and was lifting her gun in Babs’ direction. Miss Tarantella was groggy and bleeding but still determined to shoot somebody. Suddenly, the only other somebody in the basement snuck up behind her, grabbed the gun and quickly slapped handcuffs onto her wrists before turning, kicking Howard in the head and asking Sebastian for a second pair of cuffs. Which allowed me to see his face.
“Lionel?”
“Yep?”
“Wha . . .?”
“Long story. Which Sebastian and I will be glad to share once we get these two behind solid bars.”
“You don’t sound the same,” I mused. “The ‘mobster in training’ dialect is gone. You’re not one of Mr. C’s minions?”
Before he had a chance to answer, Babs began to laugh and cry simultaneously.
“Babs! What’s wrong? We’re safe. Are you having hysterics? Post traumatic stress hilarity?”
“I’m sorry. Something just struck me.”
“And that would be?”
“That would be that for the second time in less than four months, Miss Tammy Tarantella was bested by a chubby squirrel wearing a large lace hat.”
Chapter 4 2
“Any pictures?”
“Believe it or not—yes. Our cell phones couldn’t get a signal in the stairwell but once we were out we were able to take photos and Babs got some good ones of us in our Moose and Squirrel outfits while Sebastian and Lionel were making sure Tammy and Howard didn’t manage to sneak off. I was truly afraid Howard the magician would find a way to undo handcuffs.”
Lionel grinned at me. “No chance. The old steel ones could be worked with a paper clip but the twisty tie jobs are solid. No little locks for little pins. So Krempowsky and Tarantella are in Rykers where the bad boys and girls go whilst awaiting trial.”
Joey blinked at him. “Okay. I realize I’m kind of wacked and wonky this morning and possibly still a bit high from mucho many presses on the morphine button, but tell me—who exactly are you and how did you and Sebastian come to be in the right place at the right down to save the ladies?”
“Wait! Don’t start the wrap-up until I’m settled!”
I turned. Lorelei Laramie came strolling into Joey’s hospital room, laden with boxes that had to contain some sort of edible goodies. “That bastard and stupid bitch nearly killed my child so I want to hear the whys and hows of the take-down and I hope they both get roommates in prison who will treat them to nightly flings on their nasty little cots.”
“Mother, will you stop being so bloodthirsty?” Sebastian sighed. “Please, just park it over there— but give Joey the rest of the corned beef and cabbage before Bootsie and Babs grab it.” He winked at me. I winked back.
Lorelei obliged, then scooched her seat up near Joey’s bed. “Poor baby,” she crooned.
“Mother!”
“What? Dammit! I can’t be bloodthirsty and I can’t be motherly? Fine. I’ll shut up.”
Sebastian smiled at her. “Good plan. Lionel? Would you care to continue?”
Lionel nodded. “My name really is Lionel but the last name is not Paccaduscio which I’m not sure I can even spell, nor can anyone outside of Italy. It’s Regan and I’m with the F.B.I. They originally sent me to work undercover in order to gather evidence against Joey’s dad in connection with more than one activity not considered kosher by either the federal government or the New York police department.”
/>
I held my hand up. “Wait. Sorry to interrupt, but how old are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
Babs and I sighed. She spoke what I was thinking, “I want whatever beauty secrets you obviously possess, you hunky fountain of youth, you.”
“Sorry. That would be genetics and I don’t think either or you ladies need them since you’re both lovely and look like you should be carded each time you enter a club or liquor store.”
Babs beamed. “I like you.”
“Thanks.”
Sebastian interrupted with a slight cough. “Please! Let the man continue before all the oxygen in the room disappears in a cloud of ego from all. My nosy mother may burst before she gets the explanation and it might as well be from the fake mobster guy no one suspected was a good guy except me because I knew him when he was a simply a lousy cop on the beat.” He paused. “That came out wrong and possibly insulted everyone.”
I patted his good arm. The ‘bad arm’ had been freshly placed in a cast after the fight with Howard. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve also been punching the morphine button along with friend Joey. No one expects sense from either of you for at least another day or two. This is why we’re keeping you away from any and all police-type folks and weapons that discharge. Well, except for Lionel here on the police-type folks.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at me. “Not sure how to take that.”
“With much good will and care. Okay?”
He smiled. “Okay.” He motioned to Lionel to continue. “I already know the story but you have a fresh audience here. Please. Satisfy the curiosity running rampant in this room.”
Lorelei cocked her head in her son’s direction. “Can curiosity run rampant? Isn’t that like mixing your metaphors or agitating your analogies or stirring your similes?”
“Mother! Stop! Lionel. Go.”
Lionel nodded. “I’ll give you the basics. I was sent to the Carmosina house as an undercover to be one of Mr. C’s new recruits for bodyguards and odd-jobbers. This was about a month before you ladies came up with your plan to start bumping folks off which happened to also be about a month before Babs and Joey met and got friendly.”
Sweet Cream Ladies, Ltd. Page 27