The Girl Is Murder (28 page)

“I like you,” said Josephine.

“Thanks.”

“When Grace first told me about you, I was worried you were going to be like all those other squares from Delaware.”

“I have my moments. Funny how public school changes what you’re willing to do, but then you probably know that. Grace said you were at a public school before Chapin.”

Josephine fished a brass cigarette case out of her bag and popped it open. With one hand she struck a match, with the other she offered me the contents of the case.

I considered the offer carefully. I might’ve been betraying Pop in a thousand different ways that night but I wasn’t about to add smoking to the list. “No, thanks.”

She tweaked her mouth to the left and exhaled a stream of smoke. “Yeah, I did my time.”

“How’d you end up at Chapin?”

“Fell in with the wrong crowd. Bunch of bad influences, the lot of them. It was either private school or a reformatory. Fortunately my grades were good, so I got a scholarship instead of a sentence.”

“Lucky you. And so now you get to be the bad influence?” I meant it as a joke, but as soon as I said it, I worried she wouldn’t take it that way.

She narrowed her eyes. “How much has Grace told you?”

“Not nearly enough, I’m afraid. She clams up if she thinks she’ll look bad. She doesn’t realize how much I’ve changed and that I assume she’s changed, too.”

“That’s Grace all right.”

It was obvious she wasn’t going to tell me anything unless I offered her something first. “She said you two like to play the soldiers you meet. Get a few gifts and a nice meal or two and pay as little as possible in return.”

“You think that’s bad?” she asked.

“I think it’s clever. You can’t use someone who doesn’t want to be used.”

I don’t think she knew I was parroting Grace. Only that I was echoing a philosophy she happened to share.

“So are you game?” she asked me.

I hadn’t considered the possibility that they might want me to join in on their scheme. “I might be willing to give it a try.”

Jo relaxed. “I’m surprised Grace owned up to it. Like you said, she doesn’t like to be associated with anything that makes her look bad. So you know she traded in her halo for a pair of devil’s horns?”

“I’m not sure she ever had a halo.”

Another exhale of smoke, this one aimed right for me. “Funny, I think you and I are the only two people who’ve figured that out.”

I took a chance. “What about Tom Barney?” I said. “Surely he knows.”

Surprise flashed through her eyes. “The sad part is, he doesn’t. And that means the joke’s on him.”

Grace appeared in the bedroom door, her face long and serious.

“Is everything all right with your mother?” I asked.

“Fine. She’s gone now, thank goodness.”

We took turns at the mirror, getting ourselves ready for our evening out. As I slipped on Suze’s skirt and pumps, I wondered what she would think of me wearing her clothes. I’d make it up to her somehow.

Josephine whipped out a tube of magnet-red lipstick, and we took turns putting it on. She then disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Grace and me to finish our preparations by ourselves.

“What did you two talk about while I was gone?” asked Grace once she was sure we were alone.

“You, mostly. She seemed awfully eager to make sure I knew that you were just as bad as she is.”

“She knows something’s up. That’s why she came early and braved Mother. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find out she was listening outside my door for a half hour before she announced her arrival. She doesn’t trust you.”

How could that be? She seemed to not only trust me, but to actually
like
me. “How can you tell?”

“Little things. Like how she asked you about the boy you’re seeing. I never told her you were seeing anyone. That was a test.”

“Of what?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s not good. You need to be careful, Iris. She knows she’s being played and she’s going to do everything possible to turn the tables on you tonight. This could get ugly.”

I found it impossible to wrap my head around that. I had been starting to think Josephine wasn’t as bad as we’d made her out to be, but if anyone knew the real Josephine, it was Grace. This girl was clever—clever enough to get into private school instead of juvie. Clever enough to make my once straitlaced friend go along with her schemes. And clever enough to make sure Tom Barney disappeared for good. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down with her.

Josephine reappeared with her hair carefully pinned into place. She seemed to have matured during her brief time in the bathroom. Or maybe it was just my understanding of her that had changed.

“Let’s blow,” she said. “I’m in the mood for some dancing.”

CHAPTER

20

IT WAS EVEN HARDER to find a cabbie on Fifth Avenue willing to take you to Harlem than it had been on Delancey Street. After four failed attempts, Josephine offered to double the driver’s rate for the lift. He was still reluctant, but the promise of twice the cash at least gave us the chance to hear about his reluctance on the drive there.

Of course, Josephine didn’t actually have the money in hand. She might’ve pocketed enough from her latest marks, but it seemed her intention all along was to make Grace pony up for the bill. So, in addition to being a manipulator, she was also a moocher. And Grace did exactly as she asked, pulling the crisp bills out of her wallet with absolutely no hesitation. She would do the same when we got to the Savoy, paying for all three of us like it was her obligation.

The Savoy was the same as on my first visit: packed to the gills, the music loud, the hoofing hot. I tried to navigate the place like I was well acquainted with it, and did a pretty good job schooling them on where to wait before the doors opened, and where to go once they did. As we entered the ballroom, I pointed out the sights the way they’d been pointed out to me, using the same lingo Suze had, although I misused half the words and made up new ones to replace the ones I couldn’t recall. It was all right, though; it wasn’t like Jo and Grace would know any better. Nor did they care. As I rambled on about this band and that dance step, they both took in the amazing world swirling around them. I wanted to stare and gawk, too, but I was too nervous to play tourist. We had a plan I had to follow: at midnight, everyone needed to be in front of the building, where Josephine and Rhona would have their showdown and what happened to Tom would finally come to light.

That was hours away. I had no idea how I was going to occupy myself until then.

Josephine had no such concerns. We weren’t in the ballroom five minutes before someone hauled her onto the floor and engaged her in a whiplash-inducing jitterbug. For a girl who was supposedly so calculated, she knew how to let go and give in to the music.

“She really comes on like gangbusters,” I said to Grace.

“She knows it, too,” she replied. We stood near the wall, a couple of wallflowers waiting to be picked. Grace’s eyes danced over the crowd, looking for who knows what. Just when I thought we’d both be stuck there forever, a man grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the floor. I receded further into the wall, torn between wanting to dance and wanting to hide. I combed the crowd, looking for Pearl, but there were far too many people for me to be able to spot her. I stepped away from my hiding spot, hoping to get a better view of the room, when a sailor took my hand and asked me to dance.

I said yes. After all, I might get a better vantage of the ballroom.

It wasn’t like dancing with Benny. Oh, my partner was light on his feet, but I was as stiff as a Popsicle stick. I still knew the dance steps I’d been taught the week before (and had taught to Pearl just that afternoon) but the fluidity I’d experienced dancing with Benny had vanished.

“Relax, doll,” said the Fred Astaire to my Ginger Rogers.

Maybe it was him. He was nice-looking, but he wasn’t Benny. Instead of wearing the zoot, he wore Navy dress blues. His hair wasn’t slicked back with Brylcreem, but cut close enough to his scalp that the skin showed pink beneath it. He wasn’t the only enlisted man in the club that night. The Savoy was teeming with them. The sea of brightly colored dresses and suits was broken up by a uniformed stream of khaki, blue, and white.

Fortunately, though, the enlisted men were outnumbered by the regular attendees. There would be no humiliating the men wearing zoot suits here. This wasn’t their turf.

Josephine caught my eye from across the floor. She pinched her forefinger and thumb into an O to let me know what she thought of my partner. She nudged her head to the left and I followed her line and found Grace in the arms of yet another soldier. Poor Grace with her ballroom lessons and impeccable posture simply couldn’t give in to the Lindy Hop. She was the exact opposite of her name.

“You come here a lot?” asked my partner. I thought I smelled alcohol on his breath. Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant.

“No. I’m only in high school,” I said. “How about you?”

“First time in New York. The boys and I decided to do it up right and come here tonight. We ship out Monday.”

I tried to relax, but it wasn’t working. My reason for being there weighed too heavily. “Do you know where they’re sending you?”

“Nope.” He slid to the right and tapped his foot. “How old are you?”

If I’d been trying to impress him, I would’ve lied. “Fifteen. Bet I look like a baby, huh?”

“Want to know a secret?” I nodded, though I didn’t, not really. “I’m only sixteen.”

“How can that be?” I said. “Don’t you have to be eighteen to enlist?”

“That’s why it’s a secret.”

“Why do you want to go off to war? What’s the hurry?”

“It’s a lot better than wasting away learning about things that have already happened and memorizing dates and names, right? I’d rather be part of history than spend my time learning about it.”

He obviously thought the news would impress me, but I couldn’t find it in me to gush over how brave he was. After getting caught in my own deception, I was hardly going to reward someone else for theirs. Besides, weren’t rules about what age you had to be to enlist there for a reason? Even under the best of circumstances, people were getting killed. I hated to think we were banking on our freedom being protected by a bunch of boys with guns who were too young to know how to use them.

The dance ended and I exchanged one partner for another, and then still another. No one asked me for a second dance. I might’ve looked like I could cut a rug, but it only took a measure or two before they figured out my legs were as stiff as the cuffs on their slacks. But the activity made the time pass quickly and gave me a chance to survey the room from one side to another. It wasn’t until my last partner pulled me into his arms that I spotted Rhona. She was partnered with Dino, whose bright yellow suit turned into a blur of color as he spun around the dance floor. I almost waved when I saw them, but then I remembered what I was there for. Instead, I tried to lead my partner toward the other side of the room, where I was less likely to be recognized.

“What’s the matter?” he asked me.

“Leg cramp,” I said. I broke our hold and hobbled away, hoping my lousy acting skills weren’t drawing any more attention to me than necessary. As I slinked toward the wall, I saw Suze spinning toward Benny. Both of them were grinning from ear to ear as he tossed her into the air for a hip to hip.

“Iris?”

I turned and found Pearl just over my left shoulder. She waved me over to the wall, where she was cooling herself and drinking out of a flask.

Rhona’s flask. Oh no.

She saw my panic as I took in that silver portent of doom and shook her head. “Relax. I dumped it out when she wasn’t looking and filled it with water. Want a swig?”

I chugged the container half empty and passed it back to her. “How’s it going?”

“Fine so far. I got worried when I couldn’t find you.”

“Me, too. Having fun?”

She was trying to be calm and collected, but I could feel the excitement that bubbled beneath the surface. “I’ve danced twice—once with Benny and once with Dino. I thought for sure I’d trip and that would be the end of it, but I actually was able to keep up with them.”

“Good for you.” Jealousy burned through me the way Rhona’s booze had passed down my throat the week before.

“Where’s Josephine?”

I gestured toward the other side of the room, where most of the military men were gathered. “Over there somewhere. I’m not sure how useful tonight’s going to be. Grace seems to think she’s on to us.”

“Rhona’s in a beastly mood. I say we still let her have at Josephine.”

“Suit yourself.”

Another hour to kill, and my dogs were barking. I’m not sure how many times I danced, but each time I felt a little less pleasure. Maybe it was the fear of how much closer we were to events coming to pass, or maybe it was simply that the Savoy lost its magic when I wasn’t there with the Rainbows.

At ten to twelve, I found Grace, and together we tracked down Josephine. She reeked of booze and a sweet smoke that I learned was from reefer. She’d discarded her shoes and switched to dancing in her bare feet.

“We’ve got to make tracks,” I said.

“But the evening’s young,” she slurred. “This is Randolph.” She clung to the arm of an Army sergeant. “He’s talking about buying me a steak dinner.”

“Can she get a rain check?” I asked. I pulled her away, strongly enough that her hold on his arm broke.

“Are you kidding?”

“I’m bleeding,” I said.

“Then get a bandage and sit the next one out.”

“Not that kind of bleeding.” I raised an eyebrow, hoping she’d catch my meaning. “I don’t mean to be a pill, but I’m dying here and I want to go home.”

I was worried she’d just send me on my way to deal with it by myself. In fact, Grace had warned me as much when I’d suggested the strategy to her. But something in my face must’ve sold my pain as real, and the possibility of my humiliation—and hers and Grace’s—was great enough that she gave in.