Princes of the Lower East Side: A 1920s Mafia Thriller (A Scalisi Family Novel)

by Meredith Allison

  How surprised everyone would be if they knew the other Mia Scalisi—bootlegger and murderess.

  When she finished her set that night, she took a few moments to make pleasant small talk with some of the guests, as Hyman had ordered her to do. He said it made them feel special, and when they felt special, they came back. So it became her job to make them feel very, very special.

  She sighed inwardly when she spotted a table with two men who were regulars, accompanied by two young women. The men’s dates changed most nights they came to the club. The two ladies tonight were fresh-faced flappers she’d never seen before.

  One of the men, a red-faced ginger called Clyde whom she’d never seen completely sober and who campaigned fiercely to get her into his bed every time he saw her, reached out a hand to snatch her wrist.

  “Miss Scalisi,” he said, rising to his feet. “You were, as always, divine tonight.” He cackled at his joke.

  What a boob. “Why, thanks, Clyde,” she said with as much warmth as she could muster. She tilted a friendly chin at the two dates. “And who are these two Shebas?”

  The young women, a platinum-blonde and a brunette, exchanged a wide-eyed look. The blonde shot to her feet. “Violet Bates, how do you do?” she said in a rush, sticking out her hand.

  Mia shook her hand. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

  “This is Lil,” Violet said, thumbing toward her friend, who hastened to shake Mia’s hand. “She’s a dancer too, you know.”

  “Oh?” Mia gave her a polite smile. “And where have you danced?”

  “Small theaters, mostly,” Lil said breathlessly. “Nothing like here. I’d love a chance for an audition. Do you think I could?”

  Mia pointed across the room where Hyman schmoozed with a table of distinguished-looking older men. “That’s the fella who’ll need some convincing,” she said. “I don’t call the shots here. I just sing the songs.”

  The two girls wasted no time rushing off in his direction.

  “Gee, you chased off our dates,” the other man, George, said with mock disappointment.

  Clyde grinned. “That’s all right. I’d rather have Miss Scalisi all to myself, anyhow.” He slid an arm around her waist.

  Mia stiffened, but she playfully swatted him on the chest as she stepped out of his hold. “Aren’t you a cad.”

  “Only because you’re breaking my heart,” he said, reaching for her again.

  She stepped behind a chair, out of range of his groping paw. “Now, now, Clyde.” Her patience was wearing thin, and it was becoming difficult to keep her trained smile in place.

  He gave her a lascivious grin and made a show of pretending to throw the chair between them out of his way. Mia deftly stepped back, but crashed into a small group of guests who loitered near the dance floor.

  “I beg your pardon,” she murmured, making to slide behind them to get to her dressing room.

  The woman she’d stumbled into smiled. “If I had to have my champagne spilled on me, I’m glad it was by you.”

  Mia glanced at the wet splotch on the front of her dress. “I’m so sorry.” She flashed a big smile and winked. “How about a whole bottle on the house to make up for it?”

  The woman cupped her hand around her mouth to shout at her comrades, all only inches away. “Coming through! Make way for the lady!”

  Before she could step through the small gap they’d made for her, a hand closed on her elbow. Clyde tugged her back against him, this time wrapping both arms around her waist.

  “No getting away from me this time,” he purred in her ear.

  Her temper broke.

  She clawed at his hands until he yelped and released her, then whirled around to face him, fury igniting her blood.

  “The next time you touch me, I’ll have your goddamn hands cut off,” she hissed.

  His eyes widened and he retreated a step. “Gee, it was just a gag—”

  A warm hand on her back made her whirl around. She relaxed slightly.

  Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Problem here?” he asked in a mild tone.

  “No,” Clyde said, backing toward his table. “No problem at all.”

  “That’s swell,” Charlie said with a smooth smile. “Miss Scalisi, you’re needed in your dressing room.”

  Her anger faded as she hid her smirk. Hyman had told her she must appear “available” to the male clientele, but never actually be available. And no one could know about her and Charlie, which was occasionally a good thing, because the glimmer in his eyes now as he studied Clyde let her know the man was in danger.

  She allowed him to lead her out of the main room into the service hallway, then peered up at him. “I’m needed in my dressing room, am I?”

  He gave her a charming smile. “It was either this, or I break a bottle over his head.”

  “I already threatened to cut off his hands if he touched me again.”

  Charlie looped an arm about her waist. “That can still be arranged if that’s what you want.”

  After Signor Bagnoli’s daughter’s wedding, they hadn’t spoken for several days. Then, on one of her evenings off, he’d come by her hotel suite to speak with her. He’d told her he’d needed a few days to think about what she’d pulled off with Morelli’s men, what it meant for the business and for her. She’d braced for a lecture, but he’d only offered his congratulations on her plan and the execution of it. And, he’d apologized for making her feel that he didn’t trust her or her decisions.

  “You were brilliant,” he’d said earnestly.

  “I missed you,” she’d replied.

  She hadn’t seen much of Moritz since then, other than a few meetings about the liquor operation with Hyman, and a couple visits out to Frankie Yale’s warehouse. His behavior toward her had changed slightly. He seemed stiffer around her, but always polite. He’d said nothing of what she’d done, but she’d caught him studying her with an intent expression on a few occasions, like he was trying to read her mind.

  It hurt a little that the friendship they’d once had seemed to be over. But as long as he understood she wasn’t some silly little girl, she could deal with the loss of his friendship. As long as he respected her.

  Mia nodded at the guard outside her dressing room door. He nodded back and, acknowledging Charlie, strolled a few feet down the hall to give them some privacy.

  She pushed open the door, expecting to see Raquel inside, who always beat her there after she finished her set. Raquel had come to understand without Mia saying so that she liked to leave as soon as possible, so she’d taken to packing up Mia’s costumes and belongings during her last number and leaving out her street clothes for her to change into so they could leave as soon as possible.

  But tonight, she wasn’t there.

  “That’s odd,” she murmured, glancing around. It was as though Raquel hadn’t set foot in the room since intermission. Her things were exactly where she’d left them.

  “What’s odd?” Charlie leaned against the door jamb. He ticked his chin at the rack of costumes that stood on one side. “Something missing?”

  “Well, yeah—Raquel.” Mia frowned. “Did you see her in the main room?”

  “No, but I wasn’t looking for her.”

  “Would you do me a favor and go find her?”

  Charlie nodded. “Be back in a few.”

  Mia shut the door and quickly changed out of her evening dress. She reached for the simple, floral-print chiffon dress she’d worn to the club and switched shoes. Then she paced. It wasn’t like Raquel at all to disappear. She took her role quite seriously, and moreover, she’d understood since the wedding that she was not to go anywhere alone.

  There was a knock on her door, and she flung it open expectantly. “Well?”

  Charlie shook his head. “She’s not in there.”

  Mia’s hand dropped away from the edge of the door. “Where the goddamn hell could she have gone?”

  “Hey, calm down,” Charlie said gently. “Maybe she just went to the lad
ies’ lounge. Or to the kitchen to grab a bite.”

  “Let’s split up and go look.” Mia turned to the guard. “You too. Go check wherever you can.”

  He nodded once and walked away quickly.

  The ladies’ lounge was halfway full, but none of the women inside were Raquel. She scanned each face carefully, ignoring the startled looks she received in return before ducking out.

  There weren’t many other places in the club to go. Mia passed through the kitchen to check the back alleyway—perhaps Raquel had gone out for a smoke herself or to chat up a fellow she’d met. There was no one in the alley.

  Inside the kitchen, Mia asked the staff if they’d seen her cousin. None had.

  She ran into Charlie in the service hallway. “I can’t find her. She’s not here.”

  “Me neither,” he said, and now a hint of worry crept into his voice.

  He followed her outside where Paolo was waiting. Mia rapidly explained the situation to him. A deep line formed between his brows. He shook his head. He hadn’t seen Raquel, either.

  She begged him to drive around the area so they could look for her. Charlie rode with her. They drove around Midtown for nearly an hour, but there was still no sign of Raquel.

  By the time they made it back to the Murray Hill Hotel, Mia was nearly in tears.

  “Something’s happened,” she said in a trembling voice, watching Paolo set her things down beside the sofa. “I just know it.”

  Charlie rubbed the back of his neck as he paced in front of the large picture window that overlooked Midtown Manhattan. “Couldn’t she have gone off with a fella?”

  “No,” Mia said fiercely. “She’s not an irresponsible girl. If she were going to do that, she would’ve told me first. She would never deliberately let me worry about her. She knows how I am.”

  “Want me to wake up Glo?” Charlie asked, gesturing toward the door that joined their rooms.

  “No, don’t bother her. Let her sleep. We can—we can tell her in the morning if Raquel doesn’t show up.” She wrung her hands.

  Paolo stood at the drink cart in the corner of the room and poured brandy into a cut crystal glass. When he held out the glass, she shook her head. Frowning, he picked up her hand and pressed the glass to her palm, then mimed drinking.

  It was no use arguing with the mute man, so Mia reluctantly bolted the drink. The liquor burned down her throat and settled like a warm, soothing blanket over the maelstrom of worry firing inside her.

  Charlie accepted his own drink from Paolo with a nod of thanks. “All right. I’ll call up a couple of my detective pals and get them on it. If anyone can find her, it’s them.”

  It was the best she was going to get for now, so Mia nodded gratefully.

  Just as Charlie reached for the telephone, it rang. It was so unexpected, Mia jumped, her heart pounding.

  Eyes narrowed, Charlie scooped up the candlestick base, jamming the receiver against his ear. “Yeah.”

  He listened for a long moment. An unreadable expression dropped over his features as he lifted his eyes to hers. His dark gaze was blank. He slowly extended the telephone to her.

  She rushed toward him, feeling like she might be sick. “Is it Raquel?”

  He just shook his head and stepped back, watching her.

  Mia shoved the receiver against her ear and lifted the base to her mouth. “Who is this?”

  There was a brief pause, then an all-too-familiar low chuckle rolled into her ear. Her skin curdled like spoiled milk at the sound.

  “Ain’t it funny,” Jake Morelli said, “how things work? My guys, they was supposed to grab you tonight. But they saw your cousin, and in the darkness, she looks so much like you. You’re both about the same height, same build, same hair… Though if you ask me, you got way better bubs. She needs to fill out a little more. What is she, eighteen? Nineteen?”

  There had been times in her recent life where the trauma of emotion had occasionally been so strong as to be completely overwhelming, threatening to crack her sanity, that her brain seemed to go into a sort of defense mechanism. Similar to the switch she threw to transition from one persona to another, a similar switch would be thrown in moments where her nerves became overwrought, and she would turn completely numb.

  “These fuckin’ yahoos I pay too much money snatched your goddamn cousin.” Jake chuckled again. “Sister, when I tell you I was fuckin’ pissed. I was gonna ice her right off the bat, then I got to thinking. I says to myself, ‘Jakie,’ I says, ‘maybe this isn’t a mistake. Maybe this is an opportunity.’”

  “If you hurt her,” Mia said with startling calm, “it will be your last act on this earth. I promise you that, Mr. Morelli.”

  “As friendly as always, I see,” Jake replied. “You really need to loosen up, you know? You’re still a young thing. Still got some good years left. You should really pull the stick out of your lovely little ass sometimes.”

  “I want my cousin,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. “Now.”

  “You didn’t let me finish,” he went on. “Where was I? Oh, yeah. So then, I got to thinking. Your cousin alone doesn’t seem to be enough leverage. Figured you’d get over her in a few months or so. So I asked myself, what would get you out in the open? What would be a surefire way to bring you to my doorstep? I got to thinking about that little niece of yours. So I sent my guys by to pick her up, too.”

  Mia’s blood froze in her veins, her heart mid-thump.

  “That little sweetie sure likes her bedtime snack, doesn’t she? Which your sister-in-law so lovingly indulges. They were both getting ice cream in the dining room when my guys got there. And how could I separate mother and child?”

  “You’re a liar,” she said.

  “Am I? Why don’t you go check her room? I know you have adjoining suites.”

  Mia pulled the phone away from her mouth. “See if Gloria’s in her room,” she hissed to Paolo.

  He was back in a few moments, his face drawn and pale. He shook his head.

  Mia’s knees buckled slightly. He had Raquel. And Gloria.

  And Emilia.

  “Thought this would be a nice way to bring you to heel,” Jake continued, as though he could see what was happening on her end of the line. “All the most important people in your life. Your family. Your blood. That’s the most important thing to you, isn’t it?”

  “You deranged, psychotic, goddamn motherfucking bastard,” she breathed.

  “Now that I got your attention, maybe you’ll shut the fuck up and listen to me.”

  Every cell in her body shook. “What do you want?”

  “I been thinking for the past month or so,” he said smoothly. “About how you humiliated me at that wedding in front of the entire Lower East Side. In front of other men of respect. Made me look like a fool. Made me look weak. Forced me to agree to your highway robbery with a knife at my throat. You know, Mia, I gotta tell you, I’m a little sore at you about that.”

  She clenched her fists around each piece of the telephone. Her body was so rigid, it ached.

  “And, well, I suppose I’m calling to let you know my terms have changed,” he said, his voice as smooth as the cream she took in her coffee each morning. “Hymie Weiss wants you dead, and he wants control of your liquor deal. That probably ain’t news to you. He hired me to take care of that, but I saw potential in you. I could get him to call off the hit—if I get him to see value in that. There’s a way for us all to get what we want—even you. I’m assuming with this turn of events, what you want is for your family to stay alive.”

  She thought she might vomit. “What. Do you want.”

  “I want you to come see me so we can have a little business meeting,” he said. “You’ll come alone if you want your family back alive. No funny shit. If I get one hot hair up my ass that you’re gonna double-cross me, I’ll slit their throats right there.”

  Mia gripped the receiver, struggling to hold onto the light, numb feeling that blanketed the despair that clawe
d at her. There was no word that existed to describe how frightened, how enraged, how heartbroken she felt. “Where? When?”

  “Tonight.” Then he gave her the address of a warehouse in a part of town near the river. “Listen, you’ll get your family back. You have my word.” He let silence linger for a moment before he added, “Whether you get ’em back alive or in pieces, though, is up to you.”

  “She’s a little girl. She’s just a little girl, you crazy, sadistic piece of shit.” Mia hardly recognized her own voice, so thick and choked with rage and utter violence. “If you touch them, I will kill you. I will rip your spine out of your throat. I’ll bury you in a hole so fucking deep, no one will hear you beg for mercy as you die a slow, agonizing death. I promise you I will make it hurt. She’s just a little girl!”

  Jake was quiet for a long time on the other end. Then he said, “And she can scream as good as the rest.”

  In the background, Mia heard a piercing scream—a child’s scream.

  This time, her knees gave out, and she dropped to the floor.

  “You got one hour to get here,” Jake said, his voice a block of ice. “If you’re even thirty seconds late, they die.”

  He hung up with a click that seemed to shatter her eardrum.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Charlie wouldn’t let her go to the warehouse by herself, but she refused to let him or the dozen men who’d accompanied them follow her inside, even Paolo. She would not do anything to further endanger her family.

  “It’s a trap,” Charlie had said before she’d climbed out of the car.

  “You’re probably right,” she’d replied. “But it doesn’t matter.”

  Now, she walked down the dark alley Jake had directed her to and stopped in front of a steel door set in the dilapidated wall of a crumbling brick building. She tried the handle, and it opened. No one stood on the other side, so she took a few cautious steps inside, ears pricked for any noise.

  The door opened to a short corridor. At the end of it, light pooled into the hall from the right side, suggesting it opened to a room there. She followed it, and gradually the sound of male laughter met her ears. One laugh in particular she recognized, and it made her skin crawl.