The scene behind the beaded curtain hasn’t changed. Gigi is back there, holding court, not paying any attention to M at all. I ought to trust Madame M. She’s so rarely wrong. But she’s not seeing the big picture right now.
I think I have a plan for getting rid of the Fed.
“You trust me?” I say to M, who furrows her brow at me.
“Sure. What are you thinking of?”
“It’ll just take a minute.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
But I’m already gone. Looking around casual-like, dodging past that fast-moving waiter, my gaze falls on the Fed. I look thoughtful, interested. He’s been watching me like I’d hoped, and I give him a sweet smile. There’s a chair at the table, tilted out, just waiting for me. Let him think he made the invitation and planned the whole thing himself.
“Mind if I sit?”
He gestures to the chair and I fold myself into it, demurely crossing my ankles. I reach into my clutch for a pack of cigarettes, but not the pack we bought from the girl—another one that I save for emergencies.
“Another cigarette?” I offer, and he takes one, and I helpfully light a match for him.
He takes a long, slow drag, and what he blows out doesn’t smell quite like tobacco, but he doesn’t notice. “You look like you have something to say.”
“Just some advice,” I say. “The thing is, you’re talking to the wrong woman if you think you’ll get anything from me or my friend.”
His expression turns skeptical, his brow furrowed. He thought he had the place figured out. “I know who you two are. Madame M and Pauline, the two dames who aren’t what they seem. You think you’re under the radar, but you’ve left fingerprints on a lot of business in this town.”
“Fingerprints don’t mean we’re holding the bag. We leave that to the fancy people.” We don’t have a place like Blue Moon of our own, or a gang like Anthony’s, for a reason. We keep moving because it makes us a harder target to hit.
“Then what fancy people should I be talking to?”
“The deal still stands? I help you, you’ll let me know when I should get out, before anything happens?” I even bat my eyes at him.
He taps off the ash and takes another long drag. “Of course. I’ll keep you out of it for sure.”
Doesn’t even matter if I believe him. “You really want to know what’s going on here and who you need to deal with, you gotta talk to her.” I nod to the stage.
He frowns. “The singer?”
“That’s right. Quite a front, huh? She stands up there, keeps an eye on the whole place, and no one ever realizes she isn’t just working for tips.”
“That’s very interesting.”
“You bet it is.”
I’m about to stand and leave when he leans in close. His breath smells of what he’s been smoking, sweet and sour and just a bit wrong. “Can I get you a drink? Show my appreciation?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got my drink. Soda water. I’m a law-abiding citizen, just like you.”
“Well, then. You keep your nose clean, hear?”
I can’t punch him, not yet. If this works, I won’t have to.
Heading back to my table, I pause, because the scene has shifted. Not paying attention, I missed the moment the cigarette girl disappeared. The cigarette girl’s beau is sweating buckets, and his boss is going to notice, especially when the lunk can’t stop looking at the door and is fidgeting like he wants to run out. M is over by the door talking to the gorilla and trying to catch my eye. Her frown shows it’s serious, and I’ve missed her cue. She raises an annoyed eyebrow. Past time for that distraction. I understand her plan, the need for a long fuse and a slow burn. That means I probably still have time to get started.
I put on a smile and walk on over to the card game.
Anthony sees me. He’s likely been watching both M and me just as hard as we’ve been watching him. Maybe not just as hard. But I doubt he’ll have any idea what we’re up to. What we’re really up to, I mean. We’re those two crazy witches, and who knows what a broad’s looking for when she starts scheming, right?
I touch the shoulder of the player across from Anthony. The guy shivers and licks his lips, and he won’t be good for anything for the rest of the game. I focus on Anthony.
“Got room for one more, Mr. Margolis?” I ask, sweetly as I know how.
“Pauline. Doll,” Anthony says, opening his arms, a gesture of false generosity. “How much would it take to hire you away from that broad?”
He thinks he’s being clever. He thinks he’s putting me in my place, and M too, for all that. I know what he sees, what he thinks he sees.
“Oh, honey, you know you can’t afford me,” I say, as if I’m really sorry.
“But Madame over there can?”
“You gotta understand, we’re like sisters.”
He shakes his head like he thinks it’s a pity. “Harry, deal the lady in, why don’t you?” He makes a sign and the men at the table shift their places, and the cigarette girl’s beau brings over an extra chair. I know what the stake is, two grand, and I draw the bundle of bills out of my clutch and put it on the table. The players pretend not to be surprised.
The one called Harry, who’s got a thin moustache and a suit so blue it’s almost purple, deals me in, and we play cards. Harry’s a local guy who’s completely honest because if he weren’t, nobody would play in Anthony’s game. People play in Anthony’s games because they think they can get rich off him, but the secret is that Anthony’s actually a pretty good player. He doesn’t play with his pride is the thing and can fold when he has to.
The dealer deals, I sweep up my hand and play. I’ve done this enough it’s reflex, habit. The cards are going to do what they do, I just have to keep up the rhythm.
First order of business is to break even, because two G’s is worth something no matter what you have. And it’s a matter of saving face, and making sure the boys don’t think they pulled one over on the doll. So we play poker, and I earn back what I put in, and after that I’m not playing to lose, but I’m not exactly playing to win, either. I’m playing to bide time, watching Anthony watch me because he thinks I’m up to something, while I’m also watching the kid, M, and the Fed. And the beaded curtain, just in case. M’s about to mess up her pretty club, surely Gigi will notice and put her foot down.
M is by the bar again, looking more relaxed than she did a minute ago, so maybe I’m not too late with this. Maybe it’ll all work out and we won’t have to run out in a rain of bullets. People might wonder why M’s not surrounded by men hoping to make time with the beautiful doll who’s all on her own. I think maybe she’s decided not to let them see her.
Two of the guys at the card game know about M and know, therefore, that they can’t discount me. But two of the guys figure I’m the rube. They have a very bad time of it but stick it out because of pride. Who’s the rube, then?
I lose a hand, win a hand, and the players chalk it up to luck because it’s easier than admitting a woman can actually play. I don’t win too much, so they don’t get angry. They start bantering again, not forgetting I’m there so much as not taking me seriously.
“Tommy, you okay there?” Anthony studies his young heavy, who’s been tugging at his collar. He’s going to blow the whole thing if he’s not careful, and I realize why the girl needed help to pull this off. All I can do at the moment is glance at him with a bit of sympathy, then study my cards.
Tommy looks back, rabbit-eyed. “It’s a little warm in here, sir.”
“You’re not feeling faint, are you? Tell me you’re not feeling faint.”
“No, no sir!”
“Good.”
And now Anthony’s on edge, and this could all fall to pieces. It isn’t too late to walk away, if I can warn M …
The Fed, still smoking the cigarette I gave him, is looking green around the gills, and in a fit of agitation pushes away from the table and squares his gaze on the card game. On me. Like he knows I lied, or that the cigarette I gave him isn’t really tobacco. He starts toward the table, and he’s got to know better than to approach Anthony. Or maybe he doesn’t, after all that smoking …