“I’m tired too,” Marty pointed out. “And I still go out.”
“Because your friends are going out. Mine are married and settled down.”
Marty gave her a look which Alice figured meant she had just made her point for her. Maybe she had. Maybe she had settled into too boring a life and wasn’t giving herself a chance to have fun. It still didn’t mean she wanted her little sister arranging her social life for her.
“Not that dress. It’s too forward.”
“It is not,” Marty insisted. “And you never wear it and it looks great on you. It will knock Hank’s eyes right out of his head.”
“Just want I want,” Alice muttered. “A blind date.” She flashed a grin at her play on words.
Marty rolled her eyes at the pun. “It will be fun.”
“Wouldn’t you have more fun with Douglas by yourself?”
“We’re just getting to know each other. Sometimes it’s easier if there are others around.”
Alice stripped off the day dress she’d been wearing and spritzed some perfume on her wrists before slipping into the red dress. Marty was right, it did look nice on her. And she didn’t wear it enough. Largely because she seldom went anywhere it would be appropriate. If she was going to the club, she needed something a little fancier, and if she were going shopping or visiting, she needed something not quite as fancy. It was a perfect dress for going out to dinner.
“A little red on your lips,” Marty insisted. “It will make you look less washed out. Trust me.” Marty found a lipstick on the dressing table and handing it to her.
Alice glared at her. She knew how to make herself look attractive. She didn’t need her little sister giving her beauty pointers. Hadn’t she worn lipstick when they went to the club? What did Marty see when she looked at her, anyway? A withered specter of a woman?
“I suppose you think I should wear rouge, too?” Alice said, puckering to apply the lip color.
Marty missed the sarcasm completely. “Just a little. Though your cheeks do have a nice glow from being out in the garden today.”
Alice sat in front of the mirror at her dressing table and rubbed a little rouge into each cheek.
“Lovely!” Marty chirped behind her.
“I don’t know about this.” Yes, she looked good, she had to admit. But going on a forced date? Who wanted to go out with someone who had to be convinced it was a good idea? She saw only disaster ahead.
Marty put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “When was the last time you were on a date?” She held up a hand to keep Alice from answering too quickly. “And not to the club. But an honest-to-goodness date where someone asked you out to dinner. And you went?”
She went on dates. She was not as pathetic as Marty wanted to paint her. “I went out to the theater with Mr. Applewhite? Remember?”
“That was in October, and he’s nearly twice your age. That wasn’t a date. That was a chance to see a play.”
“Okay, then I went to dinner with Mark’s cousin.”
“Hardly counts. Mark and Trudy were there too, and I bet you only talked to Trudy.”
That was fairly accurate.
“Well, then this doesn’t count, either,” Alice said. “After all. He didn’t ask me because he wanted to, and you and Douglas will be there.”
“But it might lead to a date!” Marty answered triumphantly. “Come on. You look wonderful. We can’t keep the men waiting any longer.”
Alice took one last look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look half bad. And if she had to be honest, there was a little part of her that was actually quite excited to be going out with Hank Chapman. He intrigued her. She was just worried that since he had left with nary a backward glance from the club the other night, he didn’t really want to be with her, and that would ultimately lead to disappointment. Better to keep her expectations low.
She followed Marty downstairs and was gratified to see a look of approval, maybe even admiration, flit across Hank’s face. Of course, if he was as much of a hermit as Marty said he was, then perhaps it didn’t take much to awaken that glint in his eye.
Mama had been keeping the men entertained, and she looked now with approval at her girls. “Such beauties!” She clapped her hands together in approval. “The four of you will turn heads wherever you go.”
“It will be the girls everyone will be looking at, Mrs. Grady,” Douglas said smoothly. “They clearly get their good looks from their mother.”
Mama actually blushed. “You are a sweet talker, you are. Must be Irish. Have a bit of the blarney in you.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it in the least,” Douglas answered, and reached to take Marty’s arm to lead her to the car. Hank and Alice followed, but Alice noticed Hank didn’t reach for her arm, though he did open the back door for her, and climbed in next to her.
“Where are we going?” Marty asked as she settled into the front seat and Douglas climbed in behind the wheel after giving the crank a good turn.
“Mulberry House in Perth Amboy,” Douglas answered.
Marty turned around so she could see Alice. “That will be a treat. We don’t often get into the city for dinner!”
That was true enough. They did sometimes take the bus over for shopping but didn’t usually splurge enough to have dinner there.
“It’s on the waterfront,” Douglas said. “Great seafood.”
“Top notch scallops,” Hank agreed.
Alice had just had scallops the day before, but perhaps going out to dinner with a scallop fisherman she should order them again. She’d play it by ear. They made a left on the Amboy road and headed toward the city.
She should say something but wasn’t sure how to start a conversation with the man next to her, not made any less awkward by their siblings in the front seat, eager to listen to every word.
“I saw you escort Mrs. Nagy to Greiner’s today,” she said, finally. “Did she get everything taken care of?”
“She did,” Hank answered. “The funeral is going to be Wednesday.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” She was haunted by that stricken face and those little fatherless children.
“We’ll take care of her. The fishermen.”
This was a really bad idea. She should have stayed home. She looked out the window at the passing scenery. They couldn’t even have a conversation in the car on the way to the restaurant. How on earth would they make it through dinner? She hoped Marty would recognize how bad an idea this was and not do this to her in the future.
A tentative hand touched her arm. She turned to see Hank, an apologetic look on his face.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m sorry. I remember you said you wanted to see if you could get her a job. That would be great. Really.”
She swallowed over the lump in her throat.
“I didn’t mean to imply that the fishermen wouldn’t take care of her. I just want to help.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“Play nicely back there, you two,” Douglas said, sounding like a parent.
Hank rolled his eyes and Alice stifled a laugh.
“Yes, Pa.” Hank affected a subservient drawl.
“Insolent grub,” Douglas answered, good humor in his voice.
“That’s a new one,” Hank said with admiration. “Did it take you long to think of it?”
“Came right off the top of my head.” Douglas turned the car onto New Brunswick Avenue.
Maybe spending the evening with the Chapman brothers wouldn’t be so bad after all.
They reached the Perth Amboy waterfront and Douglas parked the car in front of Mulberry House, a rather nondescript building that had a line of people waiting outside to get in.
“Don’t worry. I made reservations.” Douglas led them past the waiting people to the front door, where after a couple of words to the man in charge, which Alice didn’t hear, they were ushered inside. The dining room was dark and atmospheric, with several tables for two or four
, almost all of which were occupied, which would explain the wait outside. Alice didn’t see an open table for four, so she wasn’t sure where they were being led.
They followed the man past all the dining couples, to a door at the back of the dining room. Dinner in the kitchen? That would be interesting, and not what she had anticipated. But no, this was a separate dining room. It was not nearly as full as the one out front, and it had something the front one didn’t have: a long shiny wooden bar, with colorful bottles on display and gleaming glasses on racks.
Well, this was awkward. The maitre d’ held out a chair for her. As she sat, she could see that Hank was seething. As soon as they were all seated and the maitre d’ had moved on, he turned on his brother.
“You said the front room!”
“They were full. It doesn’t matter.”
But Hank knew she was a police officer. Maybe Douglas didn’t know that. Alice tried to think of the best way to handle this. She was not on duty. Perth Amboy was not her jurisdiction. She had no authority here, and likewise no official obligation to do anything. The only problem for her would be if they were caught here, and as long they weren’t drinking it really shouldn’t be an issue.
At the same time, she was rather tempted to have a drink. She wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Would it be such a big deal? It would be if she got caught. Better to be safe than sorry.
The waiter came over with menus and handed them around. “Can I get you something to drink while you look at the menu?”
Hank glanced at Alice, uncertainty in his eyes.
“I’m off duty,” she assured him.
“Martini,” Hank said.
“Tom Collins,” Douglas said. “And get the girls Mary Pickfords.” He turned to them. “Trust me, you’ll love them.”
So much for not ordering a drink.
“Douglas,” Hank hissed when the waiter left. “Alice is a cop. What are you doing?”
“She’s not going to squeal on us,” Douglas answered with annoying assurance. “And even lady cops need to let their hair down and relax now and then.”
“Don’t worry about it. Douglas is right, I won’t squeal.” Though she did rather hate it that he made that assumption without consulting her.
The drinks came and Alice looked with a mixture of horror and anticipation at the pink drink in the cone-shaped glass in front of her.
“What’s in it?”
“Just try it,” Douglas said.
Marty was already putting her glass to her lips and taking a sip. “Ooh, it’s delicious,” she said. “You have to try it, Alice. It’s sweet.”
Alice picked the glass up cautiously. If she didn’t drink it, she wasn’t breaking any laws. She had not ordered it. She would not be paying for it. But if she drank it, she really couldn’t plead ignorance. But yet it looked so interesting and it smelled good and everyone was looking at her, eagerly waiting her reaction. She took a cautious sip.
She detected pineapple and cherry and a burnt sugary taste, with a heat that warmed her insides as she swallowed.
“What’s in it?” she asked again.
“Pineapple juice, maraschino cherry liquor, grenadine, and white rum. Like it?” Douglas answered, grinning like a child on Christmas.
“It’s very good.” She took one more sip and put the glass back on the table. “How do you know about these things?”
He winked, raising his glass as in a toast.
“Now, that would be telling. A man has to keep some secrets.”
“Especially from the cops,” Hank muttered under his breath.
Fair enough. She really couldn’t expect Douglas to give her incriminating evidence against himself. She picked up her menu and studied it.
The veal cutlet sounded interesting, but she didn’t want to insult Hank by not ordering scallops. Then again, she should order what she wanted. There was no reason to worry about his feelings on this. She was fairly certain he hadn’t even wanted to go out to dinner.
So when the waiter came around, she ordered the veal cutlet and was pleasantly surprised when Hank did the same.
“I figured you’d go for the scallops.”
“Love scallops,” Hank said, giving her a lopsided grin. “And there’s a good chance the ones they are serving are ones I caught, but a man cannot live by shellfish alone.”
“Can I quote you on that?” Douglas asked.
Alice took another sip of her drink. It was really quite tasty. It was rather a shame it was illegal to go into a bar and order it. She was glad they were in Perth Amboy and not Woodbridge. Otherwise she’d feel it her duty to shut this place down. But it was not her town, not her concern. At least not today. If she had heard what Douglas had said at the door would she feel obligated to report that to her colleagues in Perth Amboy? Probably. Good thing she hadn’t heard.
“It’s horrible about the man who was murdered,” Marty said in her wide-eyed innocent way. She looked directly at Hank. “Did you know him well?”
He took a swallow of his drink before answering.
“I did. And I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s all the same. It’s very upsetting.”
“Of course,” Marty said, only slightly taken aback. She wasn’t easily offended.
There had to be something they could talk about other than dead people and illegal booze.
“Tell me about scallop fishing,” Alice said, absently picking up her glass for another sip. “What’s it like?”
“Damn hard work,” Hank answered. “It’s not like sitting on the dock with a line in the water and a picnic basket at your side.”
“That’s the only kind of fishing I’ve ever done,” she admitted. “Maybe someday I can go out on your boat with you.” She’d never been out on a boat, which was ridiculous when she thought about it, since they lived so close to the water. Marty had raved about her outing with Douglas, making Alice sorry she hadn’t gone along.
“We go out for up to two weeks at a time. And the crew can get a bit rough. I don’t think you’d enjoy it much.”
No. She probably wouldn’t.
“Perhaps not. I didn’t realize you went out for such a long time.”
“We need to go quite far out to the scallop beds,” he explained. “And as long as we’re out there, we might as well get as many as we can.”
“You use nets?” That seemed like a fairly safe conclusion. Even she knew it was unlikely you would catch a shellfish with a hook on a line.
“We do. We run them pretty much all the time we are out.”
“You wouldn’t rather have an office job?” She asked, though she had a feeling she knew the answer. And although technically she had an office job, because she spent most of her work day in the office, what she loved about her job was those times when she wasn’t in the office. She could never be strictly a typist who had nothing to look forward to each day but sitting at the same desk from the time she clocked in till the time she clocked out.
“Not in a million years,” Hank answered. “It suits Douglas just fine, but not me.”
“It’s not like I’m chained to my desk,” Douglas said a bit defensively. “But I couldn’t do what Hank does. I’ve gone out once or twice. But I prefer a routine that allows me to eat at my own table and sleep in my own bed every night.”
“I admit beds are rather nice,” Hank said, and Alice laughed, taking another sip of her drink. Hank smiled at her and she felt a warm glow spread throughout her body. “Honestly, though, I’m not suited to a traditional life. I prefer being at sea.”
“I’m not much of a traditionalist either,” she admitted. “After all, most women my age are married with a couple of children, and I’m quite happy, glad even, to be able to go off to work each day without having to worry about anyone but myself.”
Hank raised his glass toward Alice in a toast. “To the non-traditionalists!”
She raised her glass and clinked it with his.
“Well, I hope to have a very traditional
life,” Marty said. “I would be very happy married, with a couple of kids and a husband who came home to me every evening.”
“And mama there to cook your dinner,” Alice said with a wink.
“Goes without saying,” Marty answered with a sip of her drink. “This is quite good.”
“You can’t cook?” Douglas asked, one eyebrow raised.
“I’ll learn,” Marty assured him.
“Or we could hire a cook.”
Were the two of them already planning for the future? Wasn’t last night their first date? Did things really happen that quickly in real life? She caught Hank’s eye, and he had the same befuddled look.
“Do you already have names for your children, too?” he asked.
Their dinner was brought out to them then, which gave Marty and Douglas a chance to hide their blushes, and the conversation turned to discussing how good the food looked, and then how good it tasted.
The secret back room was filling up, and during a conversational lull a stocky man with an impeccably tailored suit and a carnation in his buttonhole approached them.
“What a pleasant surprise to find you here, Mr. Chapman.” The man addressed Hank. He took a cigarette case out of his pocket and opened it.
“The pleasure is all yours,” Hank answered, his voice hard.
The man smiled, but there was no mirth in his expression. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation last night.”
“I said all I wanted to say to you.” Hank was not making eye contact with the man.
The man picked out a cigarette and tapped it twice against the closed case before tucking the slim silver box back in his inside pocket. He glanced around the table and caught Alice’s eye and held it.
“Listen, doll,” he said. “You got to make him listen to me.”
“I don’t have any control over him,” she answered honestly.
“Leave her out of it,” Hank growled.
“I’m just here to issue a friendly warning.” No one said anything, so the man lit his cigarette and continued. “Be careful who you keep as friends, that’s all I’m saying. Because if someone is going around shooting fishermen, you don’t want to be next.” He laid an embossed card on the table. “Come see me.”
The Rum Runner Page 9