Haunting Melody (19 page)

I quickly ran to the stove again and grabbed
that pan. Returning to George’s prone body I walloped him across
the back of his skull, hoping to injure without killing the
beast.

The door flung open. Geb and Anna. Neither
looked happy. Geb leaned down then carried Jungle Man out of the
room.

Anna stayed. She shook her head and sadly
stated, “Melody. That wasn’t nice.”

“Gee. So sorry. Wasn’t in the mood to tango
with anyone that ugly, stupid, and mean.”

She slapped me right where George had
delivered his opened palm gift. Then she slapped me on the other
side of my face. My first reaction was to slam my fist into her
delicate little chin, but as I was preparing to do just that, Geb
reentered the room. He held the crossbow Anna had cradled less than
thirty minutes ago. I let my hands fall to my sides.

Anna nodded. “Wise decision. Melody, I am
sending up another gentleman in five minutes. You will accommodate
him or you will not like the consequences. I will be watching.”

I nodded. I had no intention of complying and
copulating with Bachelor Number Three but five minutes would just
give me enough time to throw myself out the window. At this point,
with my face smarting and being certain Anna was serious, I didn’t
much care how I landed.

I waited until Anna had gone and the familiar
sound of the bolt shoving tight in the lock was heard. Then I ran
back to the window and opened it wide enough to stick one leg and
half my body out. I stopped. A diversion of some kind was needed if
I was to escape unnoticed. I carefully brought my leg back inside
the room then stared outside trying to figure out what my options
were. At least the view was nice. I could see parts of the downtown
area, including the train station and an old mission church that
didn’t exist anymore in the 21st Century.. That was the church I’d
suggested my teenage wannabe sinner client visit for forgiveness of
intent.

I stood upright. I knew what I needed to
do.

I must interject that while my mother was the
Elvis fan, my dad loves Elton John’s music. There was always a
sheet or two of Elton’s works on the piano at home. One number Dad
especially loved to hear his only child bang out on the ivories was
"Burn Down the Mission." The song started drifting through my brain
the instant I saw the old church outside. The idea had occurred to
me earlier as a joke but now it was firmly planted as a course of
action.

I was going to burn down the whorehouse.

Turning arsonist hadn’t been one of my goals
in life and I didn’t like the idea of anyone getting hurt, even
Anna or Geb - that’s what a nice girl I am. I looked around the
room for anything that could send smoke signals to the Memphis Fire
Department without actually setting anything instantly ablaze – at
least before the whorehouse clientel had a chance to flee.

No dry ice. No smoke machine. Just quilts and
chairs and a nightstand, the bathtub – and a hot plate sitting on
the dresser.

I picked up the discarded black dress and
discovered matches in the pocket. A sign from Fiona Belle Donovan
Winthorp that my mission was indeed to burn down the house?

I lit the hot plate and dumped several
tablespoons of olive oil into a pan, then set it on top the hot
plate. It should take about five minutes before ugly, black, oily
smoke seeped under the door. Which should give me enough time to do
my acrobatic routine onto the widow’s walk then swing to the large
tree shading the balcony area before the arrival of the next
jerk.

The door burst open. A man’s broad back
appeared accompanied by sounds of thumping. It was Geb dragging
something. He turned and half-flung the something, which I
immediately recognized as Briley. A conked-out, hands-bound-
behind-his-back Briley. Geb shoved his body onto the rug then
growled at me. He grabbed the door handle again.

“Wait!”

The door slammed.

I left my post by the window and ran to
Briley’s side. He opened one eyelid and glared at me. “What are you
doing here? Wearing that, that . . . get-up?”

I glared back. “I was going to ask if you
were hurt, had a concussion, had been shot, slugged - whatever. I
thought you were unconscious. But obviously it takes more than a
fist to knock sense into you.”

He sat up. “I’m a little dazed and I’m going
to have a headache for a week, but a tap on the jaw by a large,
moronic thug is not enough to put me out of commission. I was
playing unconscious precisely so the man would have to carry me
somewhere in this benighted residence so I could get access to a
room upstairs without having to escort a young lady, pay her, then
tell her I wasn’t interested in her wares. Mel, you haven’t
answered me. Why are you in this room dressed like a cheap
hooker?”

“Not cheap. This is expensive French lace,
McShan.”

He growled, and I quickly added, “I’m here
because, like you, I was trying to track down Denise and Nevin. I
took a guess based on Elvis’ music and decided this was where
they’d be.”

“So you dressed up in your underclothes and
offered yourself up as a new recruit? Was that your plan?” he
yelled.

“Stop yelling at me! No, that was not my
plan.” I pointed to the black dress on the floor. “I tried to gain
entrance by pretending to be an Irish immigrant looking for a job
as a maid. Unfortunately I was spotted by none other than the very
pair we came to rescue - Denise and Nevin. As were you. Now turn
around and let me untie you, okay?”

“What?”

“Turn around.”

He did so but continued to talk. ”I meant
what was that about us being spotted?”

“Holy Simba! Geb put lion skins around your
wrists! That’s creepy?”

“Oh, terrif. I am now rapidly getting
nauseous. Look, Mel. Please, tell me how they knew I was here. I
mean as a rescuer, not a customer.”

I untied him. “Denise and Nevin apparently
were on their way out as you singing. Nice baritone by the way.
They heard you. They saw you. Nevin was delighted, and Nevin wasted
no time in telling the mistress, uh, the madam, of this house that
his buddy was here, hopefully accompanied by his favorite chorine -
me. Not to mention that apparently the guy behind whatever this is
is someone from Manhattan. I’d wager someone very familiar with
Follies.”

Briley groaned. “Aha. That explains the love
tap the ugly butler bestowed on my chin after first telling me I
had to leave because I was carrying booze. He’s not good at reverse
pick-pocketing by the way. Tried to sneak a flask on me. I grabbed
his hand assuming he was trying to steal my wallet. That’s when the
altercation began. Next thing I knew he’d socked my jaw; someone
else knocked me over the head with some object that fortunately
wasn’t heavy enough to kill. Then I was tossed over the ape’s
shoulder like some sack of potatoes and dumped here to be greeted
by your smiling face and lack of clothing.”

“Hey! Not my first choice in fashions,
Briley.”

He paused for a second. Then he yelled, “Are
you insane? Sneaking in here. You could have gotten into serious
trouble. Damn it! What in blazes possessed you to try to play
detective? You could have been killed by that idiot – or
worse.”

He stared into my eyes. I stared back.

Briley grabbed me. He pressed his lips to
mine. Our arms slipped around each other. He ran his hands through
my hair as we clung to one another. Then his hands began caressing
my cheek, my neck, my collarbone. I shivered but this time not from
fear. His lips nuzzled my ear, which sent tingles down my spine all
the way to my toes. I nuzzled him right back, sniffing in the
delightful fresh scent of him. I inhaled deeply, then realized I
was detecting an odor other than this Eau de Briley.

I shrieked. “Blazes! Smoke! Oh shit! I
forgot! I started one.” The pan on the stove was now expelling
rancid-smelling smoke into the air. Briley leaned away from me.

“You set the place on fire?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

A scream sounded from behind the mirror
opposite the bed.

“What the heck was that? How can they tell
I’ve torched the place already?”

Briley stood and crossed to the mirror with
quick strides. “Oh, hell. This is sick. Mel, I bet this is a
two-way mirror. Someone’s watching this room.”

I stared at him. “And us.”

“Exactly.”

“Gag. Something tells me that would be Anna.
She was making comments about your gorgeousness earlier. And she
threw out this cryptic little remark about how she’d be watching. I
guess that was meant literally? I may throw up.”

“That’s disgusting. Her spying on us. Not you
being sick to your stomach, although that’s not the most romantic
thing you could do. I would like to have a few words with Miss
Anna, should we ever meet again, on what constitutes total
depravity. Meantime, shall we try and get out of here before we’re
the main course for one of your Memphis bar-b-ques?”

I laughed. “Definitely. Hey, Briley. There’s
a window that just reaches the widow’s walk.”

He was quick. “Fantastic. Let’s go.”

“Wait. I want to add one more little
touch.”

I threw my black dress and the lion skins
into the bathtub, lit another match then tossed it on top of the
fabric. I turned back to Briley, who grinned.

“Miss Flynn, you sing, you dance, you design
costumes, you kiss wonderfully - and you’re a pyromaniac. Is there
no end to your talents?”

I smiled back and winked. “I am
extraordinarily gifted, aren’t I!”

Briley responded by opening the window and
extending a hand to me. “We’ll postpone discussing the list of your
extraordinary gifts for the time being. Out you go.”

I swung onto the widow’s walk then ran to the
large maple tree, grabbing the closest limb that seemed strong
enough to support my weight then wrapping my legs around it. Briley
was right behind me. We shimmied down. I cursed about the branches
that were leaving bruises on my exposed flesh. The fine French lace
shredded, leaving my chest somewhat more exposed.

We were halfway to the ground before I heard
a not-so-silent obscenity eminating from what had been our prison.
Geb’s voice shrieking in the night with his strong accent and words
I, thankfully, wasn’t familiar with.

“Dey hef gone! And fire iss here! Sheet!”

More than smoke was indeed wafting out from
the window. These were real flames.

Anna’s voice could be heard over Geb’s
ranting and swearing. “You stupid fool! That’s whiskey you just
poured onto that fire! Get out! Get out! We’re going to burn!”

Briley and I hit the ground, joining the
other escapees pouring out of the house on Gayoso. We looked like
everyone else. A man dressed for a night on the town and a woman
undressed for the same. I hoped Teresa’s suffragette meeting was
running long. I had no desire for her to get a glimpse of ‘cousin’
Melody running through the streets of Memphis dressed like a
courtesan in a bad English sex farce.

Briley nudged me. “Look at the tree.”

I did. Geb slid down without using the
branches. Anna was above him. Her long lion-printed nightgown
hampered her speed. A spark caught a limb at the top of the tree
just as Geb hit the ground. Anna let go of her branch then sailed,
skirts flying, to land squarely on Geb’s head. The pair of them
tumbled over on the grass, a sight that gave me great
satisfaction.

Briley grabbed my hand. “Come on. Our new
chums will no doubt begin the chase for us. But we need to follow
them. We’ve got to find out where they took Denise and Nevin.”

I nodded. The Memphis Fire Department arrived
on the scene in their shiny wagon. In my century, firefighters are
noted for their speed and bravery and expertise at extinguishing
fires. Their 1919 counterparts were no exception. Within minutes
this blaze would be gone. Good news for anyone close enough to get
singed. Bad news for the arsonists. Time to make tracks.

We began to walk almost casually into the
street, blending with prostitutes, johns, and curious onlookers.
Briley handed me his jacket to cover the top half of my bizarre
evening attire.

As he helped me get my arm through a sleeve,
someone else plopped something on my head.

Briley and I whirled around. I clenched my
fist, ready to make contact.

I stopped and sighed. I reached up, took the
hat off and looked at it. Worn. Brown. Fedora. It could only belong
to the man who wore matching jacket and pants and who now faced us,
a huge grin splitting his face almost in half.

Briley sighed. “Hello, Izzy.”

Izzy grabbed my hand and bestowed a sloppy
kiss on the outside of my palm. I wrenched it away. Briley glared
at his friend then thundered, “What the hell are you doing
here?”

“Same as you.” Izzy leered at us. “Well,
perhaps not exactly the same, since it appears the pair of you were
engaged in an activity far more pleasurable than skulking in bushes
waiting for a scoop but . . . ”

“We weren’t!” I interrupted. “I mean, we were
in that house but nothing, we, uh . . . ”

Briley took over for me. “Isaac. Melody and I
are in Memphis trying to learn the whereabouts of Denise and Nevin
Dupre. That’s why we were in a brothel. Now then, what’s your
story? Slumming? Can’t get a girl?”

Izzy smiled. “I shall explain all, but not
here. From what I gathered with the comments you two were
exchanging, which I admit I overheard without reluctance or shame,
you’re in danger of being pursued by the woman who runs this
residence aided by some felon she employs?”

We both nodded. Izzy continued, “Then, my
friends, I suggest we adjourn to some place more private.”

The guys silently and speedily formed a
Melody sandwich. Izzy took the lead. I was in the middle wrapped in
Briley’s jacket. It did not quite reach my hips. I kept Izzy’s
brown hat on, which did cover the majority of my hair. Briley took
the position behind me. We both bent our knees to match Izzy’s lack
of height then the three of us marched in unison away from Anna,
Geb, the brave Memphis Fire Brigade, and any other interested
parties.