Six Crime Stories (11 page)

Perhaps
,
if he had known about this impending success before he had died
,
Bert wouldn
'
t have fretted quite so much about turning thirty-five. Maybe he would have felt a little better about being stabbed or having his nose sliced off and placed on his antique clock.

Unfortunately
,
though
,
he hadn
'
t known
,
and his success didn
'
t do him much good. He couldn
'
t meet any of his new friends
,
and he couldn
'
t read the book or see the movie which they had made to remember him. Though millions of dollars had been generated by the story of his death
,
Bertram Delinsky wouldn
'
t get a single payment from the people who had capitalized on his name. This rather unfair payment scheme was the result of an unfortunate Law of Nature:

Dead men get no royalties.

*****

Crimes in the Key of Murder

Just as Carver Moreau finished playing
"
Caravan
"
on the piano
,
someone hoisted him off his bench. Someone
,
no doubt
,
who didn
'
t realize they
'
d bitten off more than they could chew.

Because Carver was a world-class hand-to-hand fighter in the employ of none other than Sister Mayhem
,
bane of the underworld.

As powerful hands held Carver aloft
,
two men lunged from the shadows of the smoke-filled Kansas City dance hall. Both men wore pink tuxedos with white carnations in the lapels--the trademark attire of the Dreamboats
,
the big band for which Carver had been auditioning.

Lashing out with his legs
,
Carver kicked one of the men--the bald one with the black goatee--in the chest
,
knocking him down. The other man
,
however
,
landed a two-fisted blow in Carver
'
s stomach.

Before the second man could hit him again
,
Carver pumped a knee into his side. As the man cried out and spun away
,
Carver swung both legs back hard
,
cracking his Oxfords into the shins of whoever was holding him.

The strong hands gripping his upper arms let go
,
and Carver dropped to the floor. Pivoting
,
he saw a man with shaggy blond hair and the brawn of a gorilla.

Before the gorilla-like goon could recover
,
Carver--trained in hand-to-hand combat by Sister Mayhem herself--belted him square in the jaw. As the gorilla-man went down
,
Carver whirled
,
expecting an attack from another direction. Instead
,
he heard someone clapping beyond the spotlit stage.

Carver shaded his eyes from the spotlight with one caramel-brown hand. Squinting at the shadowy tables
,
he saw that one woman was doing the clapping...and he recognized her. As she rose from her seat
,
the folds of her red satin dress draped over her voluptuous body
,
highlighting every curve. Her long red hair seemed to catch fire when she glided into the blazing spotlight.

Her name was Sheila Venus
,
and she was the leader of the Dreamboats. She was the one Carver had been playing piano for when the three men had attacked him.

"
Congratulations
,
"
she said in a throaty
,
sultry voice.
"
You passed the audition.
"

Carver looked around at the three men scattered on the dirty dance hall floor.
"
That was part of the audition?
"
"
I don
'
t want another piano player who gets himself killed
,
"
said Sheila.

Carver nodded. He knew all about the piano player who had gotten himself killed. That man was the whole reason Carver was here
,
undercover
,
using his classical piano training to win a spot in a crooked big band.

That man
,
the dead piano player
,
had been Carver
'
s brother
,
Lee.

 

*****

"
Hello
,
Bud
,
"
said Trudy Moreau as she shook her husband Carver
'
s hand.
"
It
'
s very nice to meet you.
"

"
Likewise
,
Tanya.
"
Carver smiled and made a little bow. While working undercover to infiltrate the Dreamboats
,
Mr. and Mrs. Carver Moreau--both agents in the secret crimefighting Order of Sister Mayhem--were going by the names
"
Bud Gulliver
"
and
"
Tanya Hamilton.
"

"
Do you know
,
'
Someone to Watch Over Me?
'"
said Trudy.

Carver nodded.
"
Good luck
,
"
he said
,
and then he sat down at the piano and played the song she
'
d requested.

Trudy cleared her throat
,
smoothed her white dress
,
and started to sing. Beyond the rim of the dance hall spotlight
,
Sheila Venus sat at a table
,
smoking
,
drinking
,
and listening.

As Carver
'
s fingers caressed the chipped piano keys
,
he looked around the smoky hall. He felt strange being there in his brother Lee
'
s place
,
playing the same song Lee must have played hundreds of times.

This was how it must have looked to Lee--same piano
,
same smoke
,
same Sheila--but Carver knew there was more beneath the surface. He wondered what lurked there
,
just beyond the spotlight
,
just out of sight. He wondered what had taken his brother
'
s life.

 

*****

"
Let me help you with your bags
,
sir.
"
The man from the Dreamboats
'
road crew reached for Carver
'
s suitcases.
"
This way to the bus
,
if you please.
"

"
Thanks
,
"
said Carver.
"
What did you say your name was?
"

"
Leonard.
"
The man smiled. He had a face like a horse--long skull
,
sunken eyes and high cheekbones
,
teeth like flagstones. His hair was jet black
,
and his nose was cut in a sharp crescent wedge like the blade of a hatchet.

To Carver
,
there was just one thing that revealed him as anything other than a complete stranger: the tiny
,
cross-shaped birthmark at the corner of his left eye.

Leonard was far more than a lowly laborer. In fact
,
he was not even a man.

Underneath the elaborate costume--the putty and makeup and hair dye and padding--Leonard was a woman. Carver was actually talking to Kay Swann
,
the undercover crimefighter who called herself Sister Mayhem.

Kay was a master of disguise--also a master of investigation and gamesmanship and justice. She commanded a crackerjack network of like-minded knights called the Order of No Mercy
,
a network that included Carver and Trudy.

Within the Order
,
Kay went by the name Sister Mayhem. It suited her
,
as she had once been a nun; the execution of the Sisters in her convent by cold-blooded criminals had set her feet on the path of justice in the first place.

Outside the Order
,
however
,
her deeds were credited to
Mister
Mayhem. Kay thought she could create more fear among her enemies if the criminal world believed she was a man.

With a suitcase in each hand
,
Kay led Carver out of the dance hall to the parking lot. Two pink buses sat end to end at the far side of the lot
,
one for the band members and one for their instruments and equipment.

"
You
'
ll ride with the band
,
"
said Kay
,
reverting to her normal voice but keeping it low.
"
No segregation on the bus. Might be the Dreamboats
'
only redeeming quality.
"

Like Kay
,
Carver spoke softly.
"
Have you heard anything about Lee? Do you have any leads?
"

"
Maybe tomorrow
,
"
said Kay.
"
We
'
ll be in St. Louis.
"

Carver felt a surge of grief and anger. St. Louis was where Lee had been murdered--beaten and strangled to death in a seedy tenement room.

"
We
'
ll check out the crime scene
,
"
said Carver.
"
The police might have missed something.
"

"
You
'
ll take the night off from the Dreamboats. Tell Sheila you
'
re sick
,
"
said Kay.
"
Trudy will stay with the band
,
with Jack and Lillian as backup.
"

"
Okay.
"
Carver nodded and stared into space.

Kay
'
s icy gaze flashed upon him.
"
Are you sure you want to see the crime scene? I can take Jack instead.
"

Carver looked him in the eye with a steady certainty that he didn
'
t feel under the surface.
"
I
'
ll be fine.
"

 

*****

The next night
,
in St. Louis
,
the Dreamboats got a warm reception. The band drew a large crowd to the downtown dance hall
,
and the show was a huge hit.

Though Trudy knew that the band was crooked
,
she couldn
'
t help getting caught up in the excitement. The Dreamboats were master showmen and cast a spell on the audience from the first note they played to the last.

Couples hurtled across the dance floor
,
spinning and whooping for every fast number...slow dancing lovingly for every ballad. The applause was thunderous for every song. Whenever the musicians took a break
,
the crowd chanted and clapped and stomped its feet until they finally started playing again.

Sheila Venus was at the center of it all
,
showing off her knockout body and natural gift for bandleading. Her pink chiffon dress and white gloves suggested dainty femininity
,
but her fierce
,
precise gestures to the band revealed the absolute command of a general at war.

The Dreamboats
'
performance was something to behold...and yet
,
it was only a warmup for the show that came after.

When the band had finished its third encore
,
and the crowd had filtered through the front doors into the night
,
the lights dimmed...and a new audience filtered in through the
back
door.

This bunch was different than the fun-loving young people had been--for the most part older and seedier. There were hawk-nosed gangsters in dark suits
,
side by side with tattered
,
rough-and-tumble hoods
,
shifty-eyed addicts
,
rumpled salesmen...and rich-looking kick-seekers in tuxedos and furs.

There were also two familiar faces
,
which Trudy made it a point not to look at too long for fear of giving them away. In among the lowlifes and high rollers
,
her backup agents mingled--Jack and Lillian
,
dressed in streetlife rags
,
huddled off to one side.

The new crowd strolled and shuffled and slithered into the dance hall
,
taking care to avoid each other
'
s gazes in the dim light. They gathered on the floor
,
mumbling and snickering and scuffing their feet.

Meanwhile
,
the Dreamboats left the stage and set up tables around the hall. They dragged musical instrument cases from backstage and arranged them on the tables
,
flicking open the latches but leaving the lids closed.

As Trudy watched
,
wondering what would happen next
,
Sheila drifted over and whispered in her ear.
"
Watch and learn
,
Tanya
,
"
she said.
"
Welcome to the late show.
"

"
Late show?
"
said Trudy.

"
Late as in after the first show
,
"
said Sheila.
"
And late as in you
'
ll be the
late
Tanya Hamilton if you ever rat to the cops about it.
"

Before Trudy could say another word
,
Sheila was gone
,
vanished into the crowd.

As Trudy turned in a circle
,
looking for Sheila
,
Lillian caught her eye and bobbed her head toward the stage. Sure enough
,
Sheila was already there
,
grabbing the microphone from its stand.

"
Ladies and gentlemen!
"
The microphone carried her amplified voice around the room.
"
Welcome to the
Black
Bazaar
!
"

As the audience clapped and cheered
,
Sheila swept an arm in front of her
,
taking in the entire hall. It was a signal.

All at once
,
the Dreamboats flung open the instrument cases on the tables
,
exposing their contents: glittering jewelry; stacks of money; heaps of coins; knives of all sorts; guns and ammunition; plastic bags filled with white powder; vials of liquid; and pornographic magazines.

"
Whatever you
'
re looking for
,
we have it here
,
"
said Sheila.
"
The finest illegal
everything
from across the country
,
gathered in one place for your buying
pleasure
. Go get it!
"

The crowd fanned out across the room
,
swarming around the tables to bargain with the Dreamboats who manned them.

"
Drugs
,
weapons
,
poison
,
gold
,
pornography!
"
Sheila paced the stage and gestured dramatically as she spoke.
"
Counterfeit money! Murder contracts! We have it all!
"

The place was a madhouse. The level of excitement was much higher than it had ever been during the band
'
s performance.

Trudy stood in the middle of it all and let the chaos swirl around her. Whatever doubts she might have had about the Dreamboats being involved in Carver
'
s brother
'
s murder
,
they melted away.

And whatever admiration she might have had for those musicians and their leader
,
it melted away
,
too.

"
Don
'
t forget our return policy
,
"
said Sheila.
"
That is
,
if you try to
return
something
,
we
'
ll
return
you to your family--one piece at a time!
"

So this was how the Dreamboats made the
real
money. They traveled the country
,
buying and selling illegal goods and services on tour.

It was brilliant. The Dreamboats had mobility
,
accessibility
,
and plausibility. Who would suspect a traveling big band
,
let alone a band with a girl for a leader?

Little did they know that the Order of No Mercy was next on their dance card.