The Mammoth Book of Roaring Twenties Whodunnits by Mike Ashley (ed)

Author:Mike Ashley (ed)
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: mystery, historical, anthology
ISBN: 9780786714162
Publisher: Running Press
Published: 2004-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

She’s dahk, but not too shady –”

“Where’d you dig that up, Brownie? That song was laid away when mother was a girl.”

“I don’t care. I like it.”

Louder:

“Fedders lak a peacock, just as gay;

She’s not cullud, she was bawn that way.”

“What yeh tryin’ to do, compete wit’ t’ orchester?”

“T’ orchester ain’t in it wit’ me.”

Fortissimo:

“Down the line they can’t outshine

This high-bawn gal of mine!”

“. . . Odds of sixty-four to one, and she romped home. I had a tip, too, and I wouldn’t play it. I wisht somebody would kick me now.”

“Hey, fellas, Tony wants somebody to kick him!”

“That’s a good show down at the Booth.”

“Yeah. Lee Shubert sent me a box last week.”

“Yes, he did!”

“. . . They’re gonna call it the Sans Sowcy.”

“What’s ‘at mean?”

“Soich me! Vincent Astor and young Morgan and all the big fellas belongs.”

“Well, they’re nottin’ in my life.”

There was dancing in the middle room, and the crowd at our table was continually breaking up and reforming in different combinations. When an opportunity presented itself Mme Storey whispered to me to pass the word to our fellows to let us go home alone this night.

It turned out in the end that Falseface Petro was not as indifferent as he seemed. When Mme Storey rose to leave, he got up also in his lordly way and squired us out.

Tony followed after like his shadow.

Falseface signaled a taxi at the curb.

“Can I drop you anywhere?” he drawled.

“I live in – Street,” said Mme Storey.

The upshot was that Falseface and Tony accepted an invitation to come up for a last drink and a smoke. By this time we had thoroughly established our characters with them, and there was little chance of a discovery. But the sense of danger was always present; one could not relax for a moment.

How strange it seemed to be hobnobbing with those two sleek young savages!

Arrived in our own little flat, none of us needed to put a curb on our tongues.

“Jake told me about the stunt you pulled off at Fossberg’s last week,” said Falseface. “That was a damn neat piece of work.”

“Oh, I was just getting my hand in after quite an extended rest,” said my mistress carelessly.

“What you get out of it?”

“Twenty-five thousand. That was about half what the stuff was worth.”

“It’s better than I can do. Those fellows are bloodsuckers.”

“You’re no slouch at the game yourself,” said Mme Storey. “That was a nervy stunt you pulled in Mme Storey’s office. I like to see a woman like that get it. She’s too big for her shoes, she is.”

“If you’ve got the nerve they can’t stop you!” said Falseface, pluming himself.

“Sure. That’s the principle I’ve always gone on.”

“Me and you ought to be in on something together,” he said with an elaborate show of indifference.

“Suits me,” said my mistress. “We’re going to pull a big stunt next week. Going back to Fossberg’s to make a second cleanup. There will be good publicity in it this time.”

“Well, Tony and me’s got nothing on next week,” said Falseface carelessly.

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