A pop into the gentlemen’s private club.
I grabbed my overcoat and straightened my tie. If I was going to the club, I had to be presentable. They were some natty fellows over there, and they treated you better if you looked good. Not that they were being unreasonable ... I liked the bosses. They were smart, cultivated businessmen and I meant them no disrespect. Only once did I have to send one of their guys away. And everyone knew he deserved it...I was doing them a favor.
There were a handful of big-boys clubs scattered about the city, and the bosses allegiances were clear. There was the Italian club, the Ivy club, the Old World club and the Jew club. The southern club, on 43rd, was the one I was heading for, and I’d been there enough times that the wrought iron and glass door was opened for me as I approached the marble-slab steps. Ponies were straight ahead—they were always placing bets on something at the bar—but wagers weren’t my current interest. I knew there’d be somebody in the library, so I hung a right and stepped into an oak-paneled, plaid-carpeted room. I saw the crown of a white head bowed at one of the fireside armchairs. I slid into the other seat, and cleared my throat. The old man looked up from his book.
I always play it straight when I can, and there was no need to beat around the bush on this one. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but I am looking for a young guy who traveled from New Orleans about ten days ago. His girlfriend has hired me to find out why he did not come back for their wedding.”
I always play it straight when I can, and there was no need to beat around the bush on this one.
With lazy eyes the reader glanced back at his tome and then slowly turned to me. “Young man, why would we care or know about some small time guy?” he asked with something between a drawl and a growl. “You know better than to bother us with such trivial nonsense. Go to the pizzeria if you want small-time stuff.”
“Of course, general. Just covering my bases. I’m sorry to have interrupted your reading.”
“Water under the bridge.” He shrugged, and turned his attention to his hot toddy, steaming on a side table, before waving me away with a knotted hand. On my way out, I dropped five dollars on a horse called Big Red. The pony lost quickly and certainly, but I figured it was worth a shot.
