High Spirits [Spirits 03] (29 page)

      
She even baked floating island for dessert. Floating islands are puffs of meringue floating on a sea of cream custard, and I positively adored them. I knew then that she was not merely worried, but she was
extremely
worried.

      
That didn’t make me feel any better since I didn’t like worrying my family, but at least I knew they loved me. Billy actually held my hand after dinner until I had to get dressed for the séance.

      
I chose my costume carefully that night, believe me. The weather had turned chilly again, so I decided on a long-sleeved black dress with a draped neck. A black tie upon which I’d sewn black sequins tied around the low waist, and the skirt of the dress was longer than the prevailing custom for daytime wear, but most appropriate for an evening séance. Black stockings, black shoes, black gloves, and a black hat added the finishing touches to my ensemble. Except for the sequins, I might have been going to a funeral.

      
As I gazed into the mirror in the bedroom Billy and I shared, I decided I looked suitably ghoulish. A little pale powder took away any hit of a shine to my face, and a discreet swish of black mascara added the defining touch. I could have passed for a vampire, by gosh. If nothing else about this evening was any good, at least
I
was. I couldn’t have looked more like a spiritualist medium if I’d worked at it for years.

      
Actually, come to think of it, I
had
worked on my image for years. Oh, well. I’d done a darned good job.

      
When I walked into the living room where my family waited for the dreaded knock at the door, Billy took one look at me, opened his eyes wide, and grinned. “Jeez, Daisy, you look like you’re going to your own funeral.”

      
“I
feel
like I’m going to my own funeral.”

      
“You’re lovely, dear,” said Ma.

      
“That’s my girl,” said Pa.

      
“Mrs. Kincaid would be proud,” said Aunt Vi.

      
Even Spike stared at me with what looked like the canine version of awe.

      
I love my family.

      
When I sat in the chair next to Billy’s wheelchair, he took my hand again. “It’ll be all right, Daisy. Sam promised that he’d take care of you during the raid.”

      
Oh, goody. Since Sam was Billy’s very best friend, I didn’t say any of the million and three things that instantly popped into my mind. After hesitating long enough to drive the reproachful comments from my tongue, I said, “I’m sure he will.” Huh.

      
We didn’t have a clock in the living room, so I’m not sure if it was precisely eight o’clock when the knock came. I stiffened up like setting cement for a second, and I noticed the rest of the family did likewise. Then we all looked at each other, I sucked in a deep breath, and I rose to go to meet my doom. I mean, I went to meet Maggiori’s henchman at the door.

      
I had a little bit of good luck then because it turned out that Maggiori wasn’t in the automobile waiting for me. I guess he trusted me not to skip out of our arrangements now that he knew that
I
knew he had me in his sights. Dismal thought. Anyhow, it was only the chauffeur and me in that big black car driving through the dark streets of the city I loved eastward toward Lamanda Park.

      
It didn’t take nearly long enough to get to Maggiori’s joint. When the driver-henchman pulled up to the door of the place, I was too petrified to move. I guess the driver thought I was only waiting for him to open the door because he didn’t seem to mind that I was sitting there like a lump. However, when the door opened, I knew what I had to do. And I did it.

      
Funny thing is that as soon as the driver managed to get me inside the place—there always seem to be elaborate rituals involved in gaining admittance to speakeasies, not that I know much about them as a rule—I felt better. The place was packed with people, full of cigarette and cigar smoke, and the band containing Mr. Jackson’s son was playing a jolly rendition of “Where Did Robinson Crusoe go with Friday on Saturday Night” on the rise that passed for a stage. The musicians looked happy. The cigarette girls in their skimpy costumes and shingled hair didn’t seem to be having a bad time, either. Thank God I didn’t recognize any of them from school, or I’d never have lived this down.

      
I was happy, too, when, after I’d allowed a scantily clad maiden to take my hat, gloves, and coat, I heard a high-pitched, “Daisy!” and I turned to find Harold Kincaid at my elbow. Del Farrington stood behind him, smiling at me with quiet understanding. Del was much less exuberant than Harold, and I know he disapproved of drinking and smoking and speakeasies. According to Harold, he was a Roman Catholic and quite involved with his church, so I imagine he was about as uncomfortable in those surroundings as I was.

      
“Harold and Del!” cried I in return. “I’m so
glad
to see you here!”

      
“I’ll bet you are,” Harold said with a wink. “But we can’t stay long. We’re going to skedaddle as soon as you disappear.”

      
“Disappear?” I said, appalled.

      
“You know.” Harold nudged me. “When you start your séance.”

      
“You mean you’re not going to be there?” Horror crept through me. I don’t know why, but I’d expected Harold and Del to be members of the séance group.

      
“Sorry, sweetie. Stacy isn’t here tonight, so I don’t have an in.”

      
I glanced around the room, astounded. “Stacy’s not here?” That shocked me almost more than knowing I wouldn’t have the comfort of Harold’s presence during the séance.

      
“No. She’s decided to drive our mother crazy in another way these days.”

      
His comment reminded me that I still didn’t know what evil Stacy was up to now. But at that moment I didn’t give a rap about Stacy Kincaid. I stared at Harold in patent alarm. “Oh, Harold, I wish you’d be there. And you, too, Del.” I didn’t want him to feel left out.

      
Harold leaned over and spoke directly into my ear. If he’d whispered, I wouldn’t have heard him because of the general noise level in the place. “I really don’t want to be picked up in another raid.”

      
“Oh, but it’s all right, Harold,” I told him. And I opened my mouth to let him know that Sam was aware that he and Del would be there, but I realized it would be foolish to do so right out loud. “Really,” I said weakly. “It’s all right.” I tried to wink at him to let him know the score, but I’ve never been very good at winking, and I think he thought I was merely grimacing.

      
The crowd parted at that moment, sort of like I imagine the Red Sea once parted for Moses, and Maggiori strode down the aisle thus created, straight at me. I very nearly fainted.

      
Scolding myself for cowardice, I managed a small smile, which was all right, since spiritualists aren’t supposed to look happy, I guess because they—I mean we—commune with ghosts all the time. For the first time since I’d started this spiritualist nonsense, I seriously considered getting a job as a clerk at Nash’s. Of course, that would mean giving up our lovely home and all that, but at least I wouldn’t be at the mercy of Sam Rotondo any longer. Or Vicenzo Maggiori.

      
Maggiori nodded at Harold. I guess he recognized him as a paying customer. Then he reached for my hand, which I relinquished to him reluctantly. Touching him gave me the jitters. “Good to see ya, Mrs. Majesty. Thanks for coming.”

      
“You’re welcome.” What was I supposed to have done? Tell him I couldn’t perform the stupid séance and have my entire family wiped out if he succumbed to a fit of pique?

      
“Didja bring that Rolly guy witchya?”

      
“He’s always with me.” I’d already told him that. Was the man deaf?

      
“Dat’s right. I knew dat.” He let my hand go and rubbed both of his together. He looked mighty satisfied with himself. “Don’t the place look great?”

      
I glanced around. It appeared merely frenzied to me, but that was probably because of my black mood. “Wonderful,” I said.

      
“You want I should get you something to drink before we start?”

      
“No, thank you.” My mouth was dry as the Gobi Desert, but I definitely didn’t want to drink anything stronger than water.

      
“Nuts. I’ll get you a ginger ale.”

      
“Thank you. That would be nice. Only ginger ale, please.”

      
Maggiori laughed. “Of course!” He snapped his fingers, and one of his outriders appeared at his side. They were a remarkably well-trained bunch. I suspect fear of death kept them in line. I know it did me.

      
“Buck up, Daisy,” Harold said as Maggiori turned aside to give a ginger-ale order to his henchman. Harold was always telling me to buck up.

      
“It’s gonna be all right, Daisy,” said Flossie, who had appeared as if by magic out of the smoke.

      
Which reminded me of something. While I was overjoyed to have friends present in this dreadful place, I was actually kind of sorry to find Flossie hadn’t already fled from the clutches of the diabolical Jinx Jenkins yet. “Thanks, Flossie. Um ... how are you doing?”

      
She looked pretty good. Really, she looked much better than she had when I’d first met her. Her hair was darker and, while she’d dressed appropriately for an evening of frivolity and law breaking, she still retained an aura of near-respectability. It would take a while for her new persona to fit comfortably on her, but she sure was trying to remake herself into the image of an upright young woman.

      
“I’m okay.” She lowered her eyes. “I know you think I shoulda already got away, huh?”

      
“Um ... well, no. Not at all.”

      
She knew I’d lied. “Yeah. You do. And I will. But I’m scared, Daisy. Jinx, he’s a bad man.” She cast a frightened glance into the cigar smoke, looking for Jinx, I guess.

      
“I know, Flossie.” I tried to sound encouraging. “But you have other friends now, too, don’t forget.”

      
To my dismay, her eyes filled with tears. “That’s one of the reasons I’m still here. I don’t want him to do nothing to ... to anybody else.”

      
She meant to Johnny Buckingham. I sighed deeply. Unfortunately, the room was so full of smoke that the breath I took in order to sigh made me end the sigh with a cough, and my own eyes started watering. Harold thumped me on the back.

      
Flossie took my arm. “It’ll be okay, Daisy. I can’t thank you enough for what you done ...
did
for me. It’ll be okay,” she repeated, although it didn’t sound to me as if she meant it.

      
Because I couldn’t think of anything to say—she might be right about putting Johnny in danger if she left Jinx for the Salvation Army, and anyhow, my lungs were still trying to expel smoke—I patted her arm.

      
“Here’s your drink,” said a monster, appearing at my elbow kind of like a mountain emerging from an ocean during an earthquake. By gum, he even carried my ginger ale on a tray. Maggiori’s idea of class, I reckon.

      
“Thank you.” I took the ginger ale, truly glad to have it since my mouth was awfully dry, and my tongue had a habit of sticking to its roof.

      
And then Maggiori loomed large at my side again, and he cocked a bushy eyebrow at me. “You ready to start?” he asked. He sounded polite, but I decided not to test that theory by balking.

      
“Yes.” We spiritualists use as few words as we can get away with when chatting with our customers because we don’t want them to get the idea that we’re actually just people.

      
“Let’s get goin’ then.” He looked around. “Jinx! Get yourself over here.”

      
It was then I spotted Jinx. He looked every bit as rough around the edges as he had the first time I’d seen him, and I truly pitied Flossie in that instant. It would be genuinely difficult for her to extricate herself from his clutches. And it’s all well and good to say that she shouldn’t have become involved with him in the first place, but she’d been only a kid at the time, and kids are often too stupid to realize there’s trouble ahead until they fall smack into it. I know this from bitter personal experience.

      
I glanced at Flossie, who, thank God, didn’t desert me. Not that Harold and Del were deserting me exactly, but that’s what it felt like. Turning to look at them one last time before I went to the séance room, I felt as though I were leaving my last friends in the world behind, even though that was definitely not the case. Heck, Flossie was my friend, wasn’t she? Even if she was entangled with this gang of goons.

      
With a sigh, I decided I’d be better off not thinking in terms of friends, goons, or anything other than the job ahead of me. Therefore, sticking close to Flossie, I walked through the milling mob to the room where another monstrous mountain of a man stood guard. This latest monster opened the door for Maggiori, who stood aside for me to enter. I took Flossie with me. I don’t think Maggiori or Jinx wanted me to, but that’s just too bad. I needed her presence just then.

      
Maggiori had remembered how I worked. The table was round, and there was one cranberry-glass candle lamp in the middle of it. After Maggiori, Jinx, Flossie, and I were in the room, the monster shut the door and stood in front of it. He looked as if he were daring me to try to escape.