The Winter of Her Discontent (31 page)

N
ATURALLY
, I
HAD NO INTENTION
of letting Ruby be killed. I wasn't completely heartless. For the next two days I shadowed her, leaving the house whenever she did and making sure I was a step behind her when rehearsal wasn't going on. At the theater I constantly analyzed whatever risks might be present. Friday, unnerved by the sandbag incident, had spent some coin to have the rest of the fly system inspected. Nevertheless, I spent the bulk of rehearsal with an eye set heavenward and an ear constantly listening for the telltale creak of danger.

With Garvaggio in jail and Gloria receiving some much-needed attention from Jayne, the production was finally falling into place. We worked harder than ever before, not because we needed to but because every one of us was starting to believe that the show stood a chance, and we didn't want to be the one person responsible for bringing down
Goin' South
. I did my best to hide my feelings toward Izzie and Zelda during rehearsal and continued spending my breaks with them to ensure that Ruby was safe. I thought I was doing a darn good job of acting like everything was normal, when Minnie cornered me.

“Did you guys have a falling out?”

It was disappointing to learn I wasn't that good an actress. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Everyone's being so polite toward one another. I just assumed that meant something had happened.” Although her concern felt sincere, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Maybe she believed
that if I was no longer friends with Izzie and Zelda, Ruby might end her association, too, and things could go back to how they had been the month before.

“You know how it is,” I said. “If you spend a lot of time together with someone, you're bound to hit a nerve now and again. Is there anything odd you've noticed about this show?”

“You mean like Vinnie Garvaggio's meat business and his attempts to shut things down?”

“Uh, yeah. Exactly like that.”

“Well…” She looked around the room, cataloging all the information she'd accumulated over the past few weeks. “Debbie Ardo thinks she might be pregnant, which would be awkward considering her boyfriend's been overseas since last June. Judy Reeves is sleeping with the stage manager. And Zelda is looking for a place to live.”

Wow. She was good. I hadn't known any of that. “How do you know about Zelda?”

Minnie shrugged. “I heard her talking to one of the dancers, asking them if they knew anyone with a room to let.”

Perhaps that was why she was encouraging me to move into Olive's house; she was planning on leaving there. But why? Was she tired of their scheme, or did she want to keep her distance for another reason? “What about what happened to Ruby the other day? Did you see anything that might've led up to that?”

“I thought that was just another accident.”

“Definitely not. Garvaggio's in the hoosegow, and that rope was cut.”

“But—”

I cut her off. “Can you keep this on the q.t.?”

She nodded.

“Someone's been threatening Ruby.”

“Why?” she asked.

I moved closer to her and lowered my voice. “I'm not at liberty to say. Any chance you might've seen or heard something that could help us figure out who it might be?”

The color rose in her cheeks. She was excited by the thought of helping Ruby. “No, but I'll keep my eyes peeled. Is Ruby scared?”

“Like a cat cornered by a bear. Don't say anything to her, all right? I'm not even supposed to know.”

She nodded solemnly. “Don't worry—my lips are sealed.”

 

Jayne and I were about to leave the theater that night when Zelda called out my name. No one else was around, so I shed my manufactured joy at seeing her and gave her a stern look that demanded she say what she wanted and quickly.

“Thanks for not saying anything to anyone,” she said.

“Who's to say I didn't?”

“I know you, Rosie. You wouldn't have pretended everything was fine the last two days if you wanted to rat out the lot of us.”

“I'm not doing it for you; I'm doing it for Ruby. I might hate what she's doing, but I don't want to see her die for it.”

“Are you coming with us to the Canteen?” She was dressed to the nines, as always. Her floral silk dress was topped by her black fur coat, and on her feet were a pair of suede Palizzio platforms I hadn't seen before.

I shook my head. “Nope. I'm going home. I think I'm done with the Canteen.”

Zelda sighed. “I know we've made an awful mess of things.”

“That's the understatement of the year.”

She put her hand on my arm. “I agree that it's wrong. I've thought that for a long time. I want to do the right thing.”

“Then don't go to the Canteen tonight. And don't let Izzie or Ruby go either.”

“It's Saturday. They need us there.”

I shrugged off her hand and started toward the doors. “Sure they do, Zelda. Just like you need that mink coat.”

 

Jayne and I exited the subway early and walked the remaining distance home. I needed the cold air to clear my head and quell my rage. “I don't know why I bother,” I said. “Whoever killed Paulette had the right idea.”

Jayne struggled to keep pace with me. “Zelda's right, though. About the Canteen. It's a good place.”

“I'm not arguing with that. It's a great place, but I can't see myself spending one more evening there knowing what they've twisted it into.”

We paused in front of a shoe shop and admired the things we couldn't have bought even if we weren't limited by ration coupons. White satin mules strutted beside black platforms adorned with pearls. Just seeing the ridiculous display made me angrier. Men were dying so that Izzie, Olive, and Zelda could wear shoes like these.

Zelda. Something about her didn't sit well with me, and it wasn't just her involvement in Olive and Izzie's scheme. She'd been the one who'd convinced the others to come clean, and she'd hinted to me before that I needed to stand up for myself if Olive and Izzie tried to get me to do anything I wasn't comfortable with. Was she torn by their lifestyle, or was there another reason it was important to her for me to know she wasn't as bad as the others?

“I'm surprised at you,” said Jayne.

“How so?”

“I wouldn't have thought you'd give up so quickly.”

I started walking again. “Who's giving up? I said I'd keep Ruby safe and I will.”

Jayne took my arm and held me in place. “I mean about the Canteen. Why let them ruin it? Why not tell Elaine what's going on?”

“They'll just find another way to meet men.”

“But you'll cut off one outlet, right? That has to count for something. At least we'll know the men going to the Canteen are safe. And given how many men go there, odds are the truth of what's going on will spread fast. Who knows how many other people we might save?”

She was right. We owed them that much.

We made it to the Canteen at ten after eight. Glenn Miller and his orchestra filled the tiny stage, knocking elbows as they played “Goodbye, Little Darlin', Goodbye.” The dance floor was packed with swaying couples who were trying to convince themselves they would miss each other like “the stars would miss the sky.” I searched out Ruby and Zelda and couldn't find either of them. Izzie was there, though, dancing cheek to cheek with a man in a leather bomber jacket.

“Whoa, girls.” Elaine blocked our path. “Call time is five o'clock.”

“We're not here to work,” I told her. “We're here talk to you. In private.”

She scanned the room to make sure everything was safely under way. “Let's try outside,” she said. “I could use the fresh air.”

We went into an alley beside the building. Upon our arrival, couples scattered like mice lest Elaine should catch them doing what the Canteen manual forbid. “Let me guess,” said Elaine. “Someone you know is seeing someone outside the club.”

“A couple of someone's,” I said.

She pulled out a cigarette case and offered us the contents. I shook my head while Jayne plucked free a gasper and accepted a light. “Names?” asked Elaine.

I found an abandoned crate and pulled it over to her. “I think you may want to sit down for this.”

We told her everything we knew, and as the details progressed from breaking rules to breaking hearts, Elaine sank down on the crate and smoked down cigarette after cigarette with shaking hands. “Of all the rotten…”

“We know,” I said.

“They're banned for life, I'll tell you that much.” She dropped a cigarette to the ground and extinguished it with her low-heeled abner. “And I'll see to it this story gets circulated faster than a Betty Grable poster. Any idea who they've been targeting lately?”

“Aside from the pilot Izzie's clinging to tonight, not a one,” I said.

“I'll find out,” said Elaine. “There have got to be other girls who've noticed. The nice thing about staffing the joint with actresses is they're never afraid to stab one another in the back.” She stood up and smoothed her apron. “If you'll excuse me, I have some volunteers to kick out.”

“Mind if we stay?” I asked. “We'd kind of like to watch this go down.”

She looked from Jayne to me and momentarily softened the harsh matron face she'd spent the last year perfecting. “Suit yourselves.” The scowl returned. “But next time be here by a quarter to five.”

She left and Jayne took her spot on the crate. “Good for you.”

“It was your idea.”

“Still, you did the right thing.”

I tipped my head toward the sky. “Then why do I feel so guilty?”

“Because they were your friends.”

“Some friends.”

“They weren't all bad, Rosie. Nobody can be.” It was a tough thing to accept during a time of war. There was no such thing as pure evil. Maybe even the Germans and the Japs had good in them.

The door swung open and the sound of “Breakin' in a Pair of Shoes” drifted outside.

Jayne couldn't keep her feet still. “I love this song.”

“Then go dance to it.”

“I just might do that.” She started into the building, then paused. “You coming?”

“I'll be in in a few minutes.”

She left and I exited the alley and walked the space in front of the building. The couples Elaine had scared away had returned. Some talked. Some held hands and stared into the night. And some kissed, not caring that the blackout didn't provide perfect privacy.

One of those couples looked awfully familiar.

“Zelda?” I said.

She pulled away from her redheaded pilot and looked at me with a start. “I didn't think you were coming tonight.”

“Apparently not,” I said. “Hello, George.”

George Pomeroy tipped his hat and tried very hard not to look like he'd just gotten caught with his pants down.

“He must be quite a hot commodity,” I said. “Paulette
and
you? Is there a big inheritance, George, or did you decide to put all of your dough into a nice fat life insurance policy?”

“This isn't what you think,” said Zelda.

“Then why don't you tell me what it is?”

She straightened up and tried to wipe the guilt from her face. “We're in love. Really in love. Right, George?”

He nodded.

“And how did that come to pass?” I asked. “Did you turn to each other over your grief for Paulette?”

“It was before that,” said Zelda. “That night—the night Paulette was killed—George was with me.”

“Is this true?” I asked.

George finally found his voice. “Yes. I…I didn't mean for it to happen.”

“Neither of us did,” said Zelda.

“So that's why you've been sneaking around and why you ended up staying at Olive's house?”

George nodded. “I cared for Paulette, and I thought I wanted to marry her. But the first time I met Zelda…” His voice trailed off.

It was all very romantic, but I couldn't let it pass without comment. “Do you know what she's been doing—what they've all been doing?”

I expected a no followed by a demand for an explanation. What I got was another nod. “She told me,” said George.

“I'm not doing any of that anymore,” said Zelda. “I haven't for some time. Not since Andrew died. I show up and dance, but George is the only man for me.”

I hoped that was the case. If it wasn't, I hoped George lived long enough to regret it.

“Your friends can't be too happy about that,” I said.

“They don't know. Yet.” I raised an eyebrow, and Zelda sheepishly
looked away. “They think I'm doing what you think I'm doing—going after George for the money. That's why they let him stay at the house. I figure I'll tell them the truth after the show opens, to keep the peace. I'm trying to find someplace else to live. I don't think they'll want me around if I'm not…helping.”

The Canteen door opened and “Little Brown Jug” briefly filled the nighttime air. “I'm sorry to say I just ruined your fun. I put Elaine wise to what the four of you have been up to.”

“I suppose we deserved that,” said Zelda.

“Yes, you did. So, George, am I correct to surmise that you were the one who canceled the date with Paulette?”

“No,” he said. “That part was true. I was going to break it off with her that night, but I really did get a message telling me the date was off. I ended up going to the Canteen.”

“And you met up with Zelda after Izzie and Olive went home?”

George nodded so rapidly his hat flew off. “Exactly.”

“Why did you come to see Paulette's room?” I asked.

As he spoke, Zelda watched him with a glint of jealousy in her eyes. Even though George was hers now, she couldn't stomach the fact that he'd once thought he loved somebody else. “Guilt, I guess. I was relieved when she canceled. In my heart I'm a coward.” He took Zelda's hand in his. “If I'd done what I was supposed to—what I told Zel I'd do—than maybe Paulette would still be alive. She always talked about her days at the Shaw House. I thought if I went there, I could be close to her and ask for her forgiveness.”