Page 85 of If Looks Could Kill
The Lion’s Den is closed, and saloonkeeper Johnny Leone sits alone in his favorite, secluded booth, nursing a Campari and trying to make sense of his day. The city is quiet. Late night often feels like the only time he can think.
It’s not the day’s ordinary irritations occupying his mind. Not the loan he’s angling for to open a second location farther uptown. Not his wife, not his brothers, not his staff or friends.
Tonight his mind is on that Salvation Army girl.
What had she done to him? What womanish trick was that?
She made him hallucinate. That’s what. With… opium?
The Campari is both bitter and sweet on his tongue. Like the girl. Pearl. Just when he thought he had her measure, something diabolical took over.
Ordinarily, Johnny likes a girl with a bit of devil in her. But at the thought of Pearl—he can’t not think of Pearl—he keeps seeing the horrible snake. That creature, ready to devour him.
Maybe it’s something they teach them in the Salvation Army. Some trick to scare sinners into thinking they’re feeling the wrath of God.
That’s stupid.
A loud knocking at the windows bursts upon his reverie.
Two men in the window, pounding on the glass. A third man, standing by.
They see him. Damn.
He makes his way toward the windows. Etched, engraved, very expensive. They should keep their hands off.
He recognizes them. Those Irish pubkeepers from across the way, father and son; no, uncle and nephew. Same name. The other is a man he’s seen about, hard to miss in the neighborhood. A big strapping fellow in a Salvation Army suit.
What on earth?
He opens the door.
“Gentlemen?” he drawls. “How can I help you?”
“Mr. Leone,” the younger Irishman says urgently. “I’m Mike O’Keeffe.”
“I know who you are,” Johnny says coolly. He nods to the elder O’Keeffe. “Evening.”
“We need to know where Mother Rosie has gone,” the younger Mike says.
Johnny stands aside and beckons them in. No need to let all the warmth out.
“How should I know?”
“Because she’s your tenant,” the young man snaps, “and she moved out.”
The big fellow lays a hand on the younger man’s arm. “We think she and her men kidnapped one of our Salvation Army girls.” He bows slightly. “Paddy Campbell, at your service.”
Johnny feels a lurch in his gut. “Miss Pearl?”
“No,” Paddy tells him. “Miss Tabitha.”
Johnny feels a wave of relief. “Ah,” he says. “The clever one.”
Young Mike’s face flushes. Paddy, who looks like a boxer, says, “They’re both bright, high-spirited young ladies.”
The elder O’Keeffe is surprised. “You know them, Leone?”
Johnny admits it. “They were… energetic in their saloon work.” He turns back to the young hothead. “Didn’t I hear something about you running afoul of the law tonight?”
“It was a ruse,” Mike says, “to get me out of the way, to kidnap Tabitha.”
“She your girlfriend?” He grins, but the kid is not amused.
“Kidnapping is a serious accusation,” Johnny says. “Do you have proof?”
“We do,” young Mike insists, “but there’s no time for that now. Can’t you just tell us where she is? We’ll go make inquiries and leave you alone.”
Johnny Leone presses his fingertips into his temples. “I’ve got nothing to gain by starting a quarrel with Rose Hertzfeld.”
“You could say we were clients of hers,” the young barkeeper suggests.
“And sully the good name of the Salvation Army?” Johnny amuses himself, at least. “Not to mention O’Flynn’s.”
Paddy holds his hands out beseechingly. “Please. If our fears are correct, what they plan to do to Miss Tabitha…” He gulps. “She don’t deserve that.”
Plenty of young ladies find their way to the devil in saloons like yours.
You have no problem cashing in on their downfall.
He’s got Pearl in his ear.
Little Giovanni, his mother’s voice says. Didn’t I raise you to be a good boy?
Damn that Pearl. Now his mother’s in his ear too, and he was there to shovel the dirt into her grave.
“There’s not enough of you,” he tells them. “You armed? It’ll be a death trap.”
The three men exchange nervous glances.
“Leave my name out of it,” he tells them. “Hold on, I’ll get you the address.”