The Starlight Club: The Starlight Club (Mystery Mob Series Book 1) (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Saturday night rolled around fast and when Trenchie walked into The Starlight Club with Mary on his arm, Karen and Marco were there waiting for them
. The club was packed with the usual customers and some new ones and even though there was normally a festive mood present, it was especially so this evening. It could have been the love that radiated between Trenchie and Mary that was obvious to everyone. Whatever it was, there was an enchanting atmosphere at The Starlight Club. Red skirted among the crowd to an alcove near the wall, escorting the two couples to a table with the best view of the dance floor. For a moment, Trenchie compared the difference between the Corona Gentlemen’s Club depressing atmosphere and lack of warmth to The Starlight Club’s charming, almost magical ambiance, which either by design or by accident, created the illusion that you were in an enchanted mystical place, making you want to hang around longer than you probably should. It really was a special place he thought, as he brought over a bottle of Du Mesnil. Mary had no knowledge of champagne and neither did Trenchie. Where she grew up, it was bubbly of a different kind - beer. As the waiter poured their glasses, Mary looked at it, not really knowing what to say. Marco beat her to the punch and explained, “Cos Du Mesnil 1938 is one of the most expensive bottles of champagne you can buy. It’s a preparation from the famous champagne house, Krug.” He continued, “Johann Joseph first established the champagne house in 1843. Cos Du Mesnil is one of the most elegant champagnes. It costs no less than seven hundred fifty dollars. Am I right, Red?”

“Very good, Marco. Not many people know that
. I wasn’t about to say that, but now that you did, yes, it is quite a special bottle of champagne.”

Mary was embarrassed and asked, “Why bring out such an expensive bottle of champagne
? What’s the occasion?”

Red looked at Trenchie
. Karen and Pat maintained a neutral expression and just smiled. Red looked a little like the cat who ate the mouse as he explained, “Tonight's a special night. What, you think I brought this out just to impress you?” he laughed. “Nah, let’s just say that tonight is a good night.”

“What’s so special about tonight, Red?
” Mary insisted.

“You’ll know in a minute,” he said and then with the wave of his arm, three violinists appeared before them, positioning themselves around the tables, but settling right around Trenchie and Mary
. The violinists glanced at each other for a moment and began to play a beautiful Italian love song. Red stepped aside clearing the path for the musicians and raised his arm a second time to signal the head waiter. As the song ended, Jimmy stepped out from behind a curtain, dressed like the movie star he was, and strolled into the room delighting the surprised customers seated at the tables. Murmurs filled the room as the patrons recognized the famous man. Every eye followed him, mesmerized, as he sauntered confidently across the room towards Red, carrying a tray with a small, elegantly wrapped blue box. Mary had never met James Roman but she knew that he was the country’s most sought after star and she knew that at this moment in time, he was walking toward their table, looking directly at her, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

Jimmy stopped in front of Trenchie and said, “I believe this is yours,” and handed him the small box
. Trenchie, normally uncomfortable speaking in front of strangers, took the box, turned to Mary and nervously managed to utter, “This is for you.” It was all he said, all he could muster.

Mary opened the box, stared at the ring for a moment, and then burst into tears
. Water began to coat the shiny stone, like raindrops. She tried to grasp the ring, but her hands were quivering so much that she decided it best to let it stay safely where it was. Trenchie, still nervous and somewhat at a loss for words, said,   “I’m not very good at this so I’m just gonna say it plain and simple. Will you marry me?” There they were, Jimmy standing alongside Red, the waiters in the corner, the violinists looking, and everyone in the place knowing what Trenchie had said, yet without hearing a word.

Mary was trying to process it all, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the speed at which everything had happened
. It wasn’t long ago that she fretted over paying her rent. She could barely afford food. But most frightening of all, she worried that her ex-husband would find her. He did find her and it was unnerving. Thank God for Trenchie - he had saved her from that horrible man and on top of that, tonight, he had asked her to marry him. She loved him dearly. He was gentle and kind and he was dependable. He would take care of her, she knew that, and she wouldn’t have to worry any longer about anything, anything at all. By marrying Trenchie, she would have the security she longed for. He was a businessman with a successful restaurant, and tonight, he had given her a beautiful engagement ring. He told her he loved her, and she knew he did. Could she put aside the doubts that resulted from her ordeal with Julius? Was she really ready to marry again? Thoughts whirled in her head and she wondered if she could do it. She had read about storybook marriages and she had prayed that someday she might find that type of romance. Trenchie was nothing like Julius. There wasn’t a selfish bone in his body. It was time to speak. All eyes were on her. Trenchie was waiting. Mary had to do it. She turned to Trenchie and without intending to, words slipped out of her mouth as she said in front of everyone, “Trenchie, I love you and I’d be honored to be your wife.”

The room erupted into thunderous applause
. That was the cue, the signal for the band to play to begin playing “You Are My One Love.” Trenchie gently reached for Mary’s hand and Mary, feeling as though she was living a fairytale and still tearing from emotions, joined him as they danced to the slow tantalizing rhythm of the meaningful foxtrot. Marco and Karen soon joined them and before long, the floor was teeming with dancing patrons, all sharing in the feeling of love that filled the air. The lovers danced and danced, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Dance after dance, the band played as the celebration continued until dancing feet could dance no more. The newly engaged couple took their seats, followed in short order by another couple, then another, until the floor had almost but cleared. Sensing that the timing was right, Red picked up a mike and asked for quiet.

“Folks, we are honored tonight to have with us a local boy who made good
. He’s the hottest new star in movies. His new film
Mob Enforcer
is playing to packed houses and in two weeks, he starts shooting the sequel
Mob Hit Man,
so don’t forget to go and see it when it’s released. I’ve asked him to stop by each table to say hello and being the good guy that he is, he has agreed to do it. So for your pleasure, James Roman will spend a few moments at each table. Putting his hand to his ear with an exaggerated gesture, he asked, “
WOULD YOU LIKE THAT?
” The crowd went wild yelling, “
YES WE LIKE THAT
!”

Jimmy began to approach each and every table, charming everyone, and like Clark Gable, he had the type of personality that even guys liked
. It was a joyous evening with unsuspecting dinner patrons sharing in someone else’s happiness which in turn, filtered throughout the club, rejuvenating, even for a moment, memories of youth and love and hope. Most of the paying clientele left, leaving Karen and Marco, Trenchie and Mary, Red and Jimmy the Hat, at a table sipping champagne.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Red preferred killing a man with a gun. It was impersonal and unfeeling. You didn’t have to lay a hand on the victim. You killed him from a distance and it sent a message to those close to the victim that this was a hit. Only a trained marksman could hit a target from a distance. Red knew anything as obvious as killing him with a gun would start another gang war and that he didn’t want. Knives were another story. They, on the other hand, were quite personal. You had to plunge a knife deep into your victim, then slice, twist and pull the knife until you felt arteries and major organs being severed. In effect, you were gutting him. You felt him squirm, twisting his body trying to escape from the knife even as he was dying, and you could feel your victim’s life slipping away as you watched him bleed out. Some assassins claimed they could see the spirit leave the body at the moment of death. Red hated knives, he always did but he knew knives could start a war also. He really wanted to use a gun for this job but he knew that to avoid a war he’d have to resort to a more devious method. His death had to look natural. It made him feel like a coward, in a way, but if it worked he would do it. He wrecked his brain trying to think of some other way, but couldn’t. He’d go with his original plan.

Red opened his safe
, took out ten thousand dollars in cash, and dialed a telephone number he hadn’t called in years. He had called it once for Yip, but he never called it for any of his own jobs . . . until now.

Ed Lauter was known as the grim reaper
. If you were unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of the grim reaper’s rare and almost completely undetectable poisonings, nothing could save you. It was a most unusual method of killing and while it required more planning than the conventional hit jobs, the results left law enforcement baffled.

The phone rang. “Ed here.”

“Ed, Big Red. How are you?”

“Doing good Red
. What can I do for you? I know you didn’t call me after all these years just to ask how I was doing, so how can I help you?”

“Are you still mixin’ those fancy cocktails of yours?”

“Sure am. But I think it’s better if we discuss it in person, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I agree
. Are you still at the same address?”

“No, the phone number’s the same, but the address is different
. Grab a pen and I’ll give I to you.”

“When and where?”

Red wrote down Lauter’s new address, which wasn’t far from where he used to live, and placed it in his wallet. The appointment was set for the following day at noon. Ed was a night person and a late sleeper and he didn’t see anyone before noon, his starting time, and that’s precisely the time Red rang his doorbell. Lauter, still in his bathrobe, answered the door. He led Red into his living room and offered him a strong cup of coffee. This was the grim reaper’s business salon - the place where the plan for many a snuffed out life had its origins.

“Tell me what you need and what you want the cocktail to do, but don’t tell me who it’s to be used on, understand?
” Red understood and he began to lay out the scenario.

“I’m gonna be meetin’ with some dangerous men - enemies of mine who killed three of my friends
. One was my Uncle. You remember Yip, you did a job for him once. Well they killed him and one way or another I’m gonna make ‘em pay. What bothers me is I have to do this under their noses so I need somethin’ safe, somethin’ that won’t show up in the body. It has to be untraceable and it has to be permanent.”

“I have just what you need. We did Jack Ruby with it
. It’s a combination of chemicals I mixed myself and when put it in a drink, it’s colorless, odorless, tasteless and it’ll produce a symptom similar to a bacterial infection leading to a slow painful death. And the best part is . . . you only need one dose. Since I’m not the one doing this job, it will cost you three grand for my services, payable up front. Is that a problem?”

             
“No, I have the cash on me.” He took the envelope out of his inside pocket, counted out three thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills and handed it to Lauter. Lauter, in turn, took the money, counted it himself, and dropped it onto the table.

“Come over here,” Lauter said.

Lauter walked to a cabinet and took out a small box containing a number of different sized rings and he handed the box to Red. “Pick one that fits you.”

Red reached in and tried on three rings before finding one that fit his finger.

“Now give it to me.”

Lauter held the ring between his thumb and forefinger and told Red to look closely and follow what he was about to do
. At the edge of the large ruby, a catch was built into the design. It was ingenious because the ruby itself didn’t open, which would have been a give-away, but when the ring tilted, a small part of the setting on the side opened, allowing poison to drop unnoticed into a drink. Lauter explained that the ring was a copy of Lucretia Borgia’s ring. Legend has it that she used it to kill her husbands the same way. Red made a few clumsy attempts at opening the catch - not so easy at first but after a while, he got the hang of it. First the trip mechanism, then the release of its contents.

“Okay, now show me how to do this with people standing all around me.”

Lauter explained to Red that opening the ring was the easy part. The tricky part, he explained, was opening the ring at the exact moment the drink was about to be passed to the mark. It’s misdirection he said, but more than that, it’s the point of maximum misdirection. Let me explain. You turn your wrist and with misdirection and sleight of hand, click open the setting under the ruby and drop the poison into the drink, all in one fluid notion as you pass the drink with your left hand. Before handing it to the victim, you close the ring while it’s still hidden by your wrist. Here let me show you. “This is the way it should look,” as he demonstrated to Red. Red was amazed at his dexterity and sublime misdirection, Red couldn’t spot the move. Noticing Red’s look of awe and befuddlement, Lauter remarked, “Don’t worry, we’ll practice the move until you get it right.”

“What do you think?” Lauter asked.

“I still need some practice but I’ll get it. I may have to use it twice.”

“That’s no problem
. I’ll give you enough for a half a dozen clients. It looks like you have the move right, but you gotta practice turning your wrist exactly the way I showed you at the moment of maximum misdirection. Do it any other way, and they’ll see what you’re trying to do. And that could be fatal . . . to you. Remember when you turn your wrist to transfer the drink to your other hand, that’s the moment the ring opens and the poison is transferred to the drink. Practice it until it’s second nature because if you do it right, no one will ever notice.”

Over and over, Red turned his wrist, flicked the ring, tilted it slightly, closed i
t and passed the drink. Turn, click, tilt, click. Turn, click, tilt, click until he somewhat got the hang of it. Red understood how crucial the timing was. He thanked Lauter for his assistance and began his long drive back to The Starlight Club.

Every spare moment he had, Red practiced clicking the ring open while turning his wrist. It took hours of practice until he perfected it to the point of semi-mastering it
. He continued to practice each day until the move was undetectable to anyone standing near him. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, he even filmed himself, performing the move from different angles, using an 8mm camera. When he reviewed the film on his screen, he was pleased to see that his move was indeed undetectable - sleight of hand, just like Vegas magicians. Satisfied he had the move perfected he destroyed the film. The time had come.

The following day, Red called Profaci on his private line and requested a meeting with him
. Profaci agreed. It was set for six days away, the following Thursday at ten, at Profaci’s estate in New Jersey. Red was told to come alone and unarmed.