The Golden Sparrow

by Samantha Latshaw

  Images of Mimi lying dead on the ground flashed before my eyes and I blinked them quickly away. I steadied my breath, which had hitched as the first memory slammed into me, but could not look away.

  I hadn’t needed to see Al in action. I had known since the moment I had watched him following after Mimi that it had been he who had wielded the knife that had ended her life. But to see him cut a man’s throat with such ease and expertise banished any remaining doubts I had had. He had killed her. And I would find a way, somehow, to make sure he paid for what he did.

  “Don’t look,” Basso said gently, taking my face in his hands and forcing me to look away from the dead man and at him instead. “It’s best if you don’t. At least, not until you can handle it.”

  Handle it. Those words echoed in my mind, bouncing off the walls of my skull. Until I could handle it... What sort of person would I be if I could handle watching a life being taken?

  Basso led me from the room, down the narrow hall, and back out into the surprisingly empty club. Only the bartender and a few waiters were left, cleaning up the club before the next evening.

  “I close at two,” he explained with a grin as I looked in confusion around the deserted club. “You would have known that had ever stayed past eleven.”

  Curiously, I felt my cheeks redden and was more than a little confused that I was embarrassed by the fact that I had never stuck around long enough to know that.

  Shaking off the strange mood, I leaned into Basso’s side as we made our way to the door and out into the cool night.

  “So, you’re taking me home?” I asked as we climbed the stairs, our footsteps in sync.

  Tilting my head back so my eyes found the inky night sky, I sighed wistfully.

  I wished I could see the stars, but since the city was getting brighter and brighter as new electric signs went up every day, it seemed as though stars were now a dream I had once had when I was a child.

  “I am.” Basso led me to the black car and held the door open for me. “Or rather, Judd is. I’m merely another passenger.”

  Judd materialized just then by the side of the car and climbed into the front seat.

  Sliding inside, I settled into my seat, heart pounding painfully against my ribs, and tried not to think about how this would technically be the first time I had been alone with Basso. There was no one else besides Judd who could distract him from me and I knew Judd would stay quiet.

  As we left Harlem behind, the realization that Basso knew where I lived sank in and panic rose in me, pushing my heart into my throat, nearly choking me.

  There had been very little doubt left in me that Basso didn’t already know. I suspected he had had me followed the moment I went back. But now I couldn’t deny it anymore. I would never be able to leave my house without him knowing.

  Terror spiked like an icy dagger through my stomach as I realized that Basso would know every time the detective summoned me.

  The ride was mostly silent, but I was acutely aware of just how big Basso was. He took up a good portion of the backseat, though I supposed that it could have simply been the way he was sitting.

  His body was angled in my direction, though he kept his eyes on the passing buildings outside, and his left knee kept brushing mine in time with the motion of the car.

  There was a large bump in the road that had Basso putting his hand on the space between us to steady himself and me struggling to remain upright.

  “Judd,” Basso said in a low, warning voice.

  “Sorry, sir,” Judd said apologetically. “I didn’t see it in time.”

  He didn’t remove his hand. He kept it where it was though his attention was back on the passing streets.

  I was supposed to make him think I wanted him and I didn’t think I was doing a great job. And me shrinking into the car door wasn’t helping.

  Without thinking too much, I shifted in my seat and rested my hand inches from his. They were so close, I could almost feel a buzz connecting my hand to his.

  Basso must have felt it too because he turned to look at our hands then, slowly, his eyes lifted to me.

  I met his gaze, my lips curving a little as if daring him to question me. But it allowed me to look him over and, though I knew in my bones what he was, that didn’t stop me from being able to appreciate what was sitting beside me.

  His strong jaw was clean shaven. Not even the barest hint of a shadow darkened his olive skin. His mouth, always quirked in one corner, was pursed slightly and thick, black hair was slowly falling from his brilliantine slicked hair. A single lock rested on his forehead and I felt the sudden urge to brush it away.

  Basso’s lips turned upwards in a genuine smile and leaned closer to me.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met any woman who’s demonstrated the initiative that you have,” he said as our eyes locked. He shifted now so that his torso was towards me. I made myself sit up straighter and lifted an eyebrow in query.

  “And?” A smile tugged at my lips as my heart fluttered in my chest with what I assumed was nerves. “Have there been a lot women?”

  He cocked his head to the side, considering me. “Perhaps.”

  We stared at one another for a few more moments before Basso shifted closer to me so that there was only a few inches left between us.

  “You will come to the Golden Sparrow every night unless I say otherwise,” Basso said and I felt my stomach drop and fill with icy dread. “The day, too, if needed. I think you could be useful, Hazel. I might have need of you.”

  You need me like a fire needs rain.

  “And I’m to have no say in the matter?” My mouth was dry with fear now.

  “No.”

  I looked away then, heart pounding as fear collided hard with excitement.

  I was gaining his trust.

  “Well, I hope you know that I can’t just come every time you call.” I looked back at him. His jaw was clenched a little, but I went on anyways. “I do still live with my mother, after all. She’ll want to know where I go every night. And she’s getting married soon, so she’ll expect me to help her plan it.”

  Basso thought over my words, nodding slowly, more to himself than to me.

  “I can’t stop your mother getting married,” he said after a moment, “and nor would I want to. But as for wanting to know where you’re going... lie.”

  I laughed softly, shaking my head. I let myself pretend, for just a moment, that I really was who he thought I was. I let myself believe that I wasn’t just some girl being used by the police. I pretended that I really was only after Basso for his devilishly handsome looks, intoxicating charm, and money.

  “It won’t be that easy,” I replied and purposefully slid my hand closer to him. Basso eyes flicked to it then back to my face. “My mother has already threatened to disown me once. If she finds out I go to you every night, well... I don’t need to really explain it, do I?”

  I forced myself not to think about how painful my words were as I said them.

  He leaned closer and I unconsciously mimicked him. There was barely any space left between us now. I could see every single thick lash that framed his hazel eyes.

  “Don’t worry about her,” he said quietly. His eyes flicked to my lips and, caught up in the moment, I absentmindedly licked them. “You won’t need her forever.”

  My eyes were on Basso’s but his were still fixated on my lips, the lipstick faded from being too busy to reapply it.

  His hand reached up, cupping my cheek, his thumb stroking it softly.

  I leaned into his hand, a ghost of a smile flitting across my lips.

  “Are you a romantic, Mr. Basso?” I asked, half-teasing. My heart was thudding in anticipation against my ribs and even though every rational part of me was screaming at me to get as far away from him as I could, a small, irrational part was extremely curious to know what it would be liked to be kissed by someone as dangerous as Basso.

  “Hardly.” His lips brushed mine. “And the name’s Walt, if you
don’t mind.”

  He pressed his lips gently against mine as I felt the car beneath us slow to a stop. My eyes closed of their own accord and the world, for the tiniest second, seemed to halt.

  I scooted closer towards him, my leg resting atop his, as he snaked an arm around my waist, holding me in place.

  Stop.

  One of my hands was gripping the arm of his that was around my waist while the other hand grabbed a handful of his shirt, keeping him close.

  Stop.

  The kisses came rougher, more demanding. To my immense surprise, I found myself responding in kind, both arms winding now around his neck.

  Stop now.

  Basso’s lips broke from mine and began trailing down my neck to my collarbone. A sigh escaped my lips as gooseflesh rose in the wake of his lips.

  Frankie.

  My eyes snapped open and I immediately put a hand on Basso’s chest, putting distance between us.

  He lifted his head, brow furrowed in confusion. There was a slight smear of my lipstick on his mouth and I had to make myself not laugh at the crack in his intimidating facade.

  “You have to forgive me,” I said breathlessly as I moved back over to my side of the car. “I don’t usually kiss on the first date.”

  Basso smirked, straightened his shirt and coat, then let himself out of the car. He walked around to my side and opened the door for me.

  As he helped me out, he said, “Then we won’t call this a date.”

  I tilted my head back slightly to meet his gaze just as he put a hand on my waist, pulling me back in.

  But I held my ground and maneuvered out of his reach, spinning around him so that I was now in the road and he was still by the car.

  “I don’t think Judd would appreciate it all too much,” I pointed out, but Basso simply shrugged.

  “He can go for a walk.”

  My cheeks flamed under the dim streetlights, but I kept my voice steady as I said, “All the same.” I offered him a taunting smile. “Until next time.”

  I was just about to open the front door when, behind me, Basso said, “Until tomorrow, then, Hazel. I expect you to be there. Seven o’clock.”

  Turning on my heel, annoyed at his impertinence, I opened my mouth to perhaps argue that he was not my keeper, I was surprised to see them pulling away.

  I stayed where I was, hand on the doorknob and eyes on the empty street, my mind drifting back to his lips, of how they had moved feverishly over mine. I had to give myself a little shake to pull myself back to reality.

  I couldn’t lose myself. I couldn’t forget why I was even at Basso’s side, not for a second.

  But he was so intoxicating. There was something that seemed to pull me to him, made me want to impress him and prove that I was more than his other girls. It was as if he had woken something deep inside that was looking for more than I knew anyone could give me.

  As I lay in bed a little while later, my mind alternating between flashes of Basso kissing me and the way Frankie held me when we danced, I made myself remember the whole reason why I was there.

  For Mimi, I told myself firmly. For justice and to bring peace to not only Mrs. Waters, but to the other countless families that had suffered a loss at Basso’s behest. I was there to ensure that no one came after me.

  I rolled onto my side, my eyes fixed wearily on the heavy, drawn curtains covering my window.

  And Frankie was safe, I reminded myself. He was warm and kind. He didn’t force me to watch heinous acts and nor did I volunteer to perform them.

  Sleep was close by, so I moved onto my back to stare at the dark ceiling.

  Do not lose yourself, a quiet, but firm voice inside my head warned me just before sleep reached up and pulled me under.

  I sat on the red sofa, an untouched sidecar in hand, while Basso watched like a warden as Robert punched information out of a wiry man that didn’t look as though he could handle more than a few more blows.

  Blood was pouring out of both of his nostrils and his left eyes was swelling so much that it was reduced to a mottled slit. His thin bottom lip was split and there was a nasty gash at the top of his receding hairline.

  “Come on, just tell us the truth,” Robert was saying and I finally lifted the cocktail to my lips, draining it.

  It was my third sidecar and since I knew I was in for a long night and that I couldn’t handle watching another brutal interrogation followed by a senseless murder, I had decided earlier to soften my reality with alcohol.

  Basso glanced back at me, spotted the empty glass clenched in my hand, and snapped his fingers at Judd.

  Judd, I had noted a few days before, seemed to be more of an errand boy than anything else. He never helped Basso do more than fetch drinks or drive the car.

  He was at Basso’s side in an instant and I heard Basso tell him to get me another drink.

  Though I knew it wouldn’t be a very good idea to have another, I forcefully pushed the rational side of my brain away and waited eagerly for my fresh drink.

  Basso stepped back towards me and, head swimming with drink, I reached out for him.

  He responded by taking my reaching hand and giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze.

  “It won’t be much longer now,” he assured me and I simply smiled up at him. “He’ll talk soon and my friend will have his answers.”

  I gave a small tug of Basso’s hand, as if telling him to sit, but he gently pulled his hand from mine and stepped away, saying over his shoulder, “Soon. Patience.”

  Judd returned just then and silently handed me my fresh sidecar.

  I drained half of it in one go then set it off to the side while Robert pushed the wiry man to the brink of unconsciousness.

  “What exactly are you expected to learn from him?” My voice was louder than I intended and I coughed discreetly to cover up my drunkenness.

  Basso glanced back to me then returned his attention to the man in the center of the room. “My friend wants him taken care of.”

  I frowned silently. I wanted more than just “my friend”. “What friend?”

  Basso smirked at me. “He’s a politician,” he elaborated then jerked his head towards the man in the chair. “This man has apparently tried to blackmail my friend. Something about about my friend’s wife and a Negro.”

  My eyebrows rose as my mind went swiftly to Mimi and Leo. “And is it true?” I wondered.

  Basso gave me a careless shrug. “I don’t know nor do I care. But he’s paying me a great deal of money to deal to find out. If this man is lying to extort money from my friend, then it’s up to me to discover it.”

  I swallowed hard. “And if it is true, then I take it the lover is next?”

  Basso kept his back to me and didn’t respond.

  Slumping back in my seat, I tilted my head to the side, eyes landing on Judd. I could tell by the expression on his face that he had heard the disdain in Basso’s voice at the idea of having a black lover. But he also looked slightly nauseous, but his back was straight and chin high as he watched Robert beat the man to a pulp.

  Not for the first time, I wondered how exactly someone like Judd had gotten mixed up with Basso in the first place. He didn’t appear to be someone who enjoyed brutality. Though I barely knew him, he seemed to me to be someone who was far too decent and good to get caught up in criminal activities. Unlike the others, I liked Judd, and felt a great deal safer around him than anyone else.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched James step up to Basso.

  “I don’t think he’s going to last much longer,” he murmured. “And I don’t think he’s going to talk.”

  Basso nodded curtly, straightening his cuffs. Then he clicked his tongue in an annoyed manner, jerked his head, and turned back his back on the wiry man.

  “Clyde, Al,” Basso said, looking over me to the men standing guard at the door. “Take care of him. I’ll tell Ogden we didn’t get anything.” Then he looked down at me and held out his hand to pull me to my feet. “Let
’s get you back out there.”

  When I got to my feet, the room swayed slightly and I worked extremely hard to remain upright, my hand clutching his like it was an anchor.

  Basso’s smirk widened as he led me slowly to the door.

  “We need to build up your tolerance,” he observed as we made our down the hallway and out into the crowded club.

  “You forget that I haven’t been going to clubs very long,” I reminded him, my words slurring slightly. “And I’m still getting used to all of it.”

  As I stumbled alongside Basso, trying hard not to think of how I could be embarrassing him by being so obviously drunk, I let the music engulf me.

  I recognized the song, but by that point, I was far more concerned with getting to Basso’s table without falling flat on my face. And once I was situated—a glass of water in front of me now—it took me a lot longer in my drunken state to realize who was on stage.

  Never one to use products in his hair, Frankie’s blond hair was sticking to his damp forehead. His eyes were closed as he crooned about a forbidden lover. Behind him, his brothers were too involved with their instruments to spot me, but as Frankie’s eyes opened and roved over the crowded, they landed on me, widened, and his words faltered. Then he caught himself, tore his eyes from mine, and stared fixedly at a spot in the middle of the room.

  Across from me, Basso was watching me closely, gauging my reaction as I watched Frankie.

  Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had surprised me, I turned a slow smile on him and leaned my arms on the table, stretching my foot out under the table so that the toe of my shoe brushed along his leg. My heart was racing all the time, but I forced myself not to pay attention to Frankie.

  It had been weeks since I had last seen him and he had made it perfectly clear that, unless I told Detective Emerson that I didn’t want to help him anymore, he wouldn’t see me.

  “Your little Irishman can sing very well,” Basso remarked. I sat back and busied myself by opening my handbag and pulling out my little compact mirror to reapply my faded lipstick.

  “He isn’t my anything,” I reminded him once my lipstick was fixed. There was a slight tremor in my voice, so I coughed softly to dislodge it. I snapped the compact mirror shut and flashed him a broad smile. “And in any case, I’m fairly sure I’ve told you that you are far more interesting than him.”