The Yankee Club by Michael Murphy

Author:Michael Murphy [Murphy, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8041-7931-7
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2014-08-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The Bambino and Peaches

My plan to get Dorothy to talk about her father over quiet drinks hit an immediate snag. When the cabbie pulled alongside The Yankee Club I hardly believed the scene. At least fifty people waited in a line out front. I could only imagine how many were inside.

Danny puffed on a cigarette beside the front door. Two men left, and he let a couple inside.

Dorothy’s face gleamed as if she’d arrived at a Broadway premiere. Her question bubbled out. “Is it always this busy on a Sunday night?”

“I’ve never seen a line out front.” What was going on?

I paid the cabbie and introduced Dorothy to Danny, whose size appeared to be keeping the crowd in line.

He flicked the cigarette into the gutter. His lips froze as if he couldn’t speak. He straightened his tie and blushed like a schoolboy. Plenty of flashy women frequented The Yankee Club, Gino made sure of that, but Danny looked positively smitten. “Jake …” He swallowed hard. “Jake and me, we’re old school friends.”

“What’s going on?” I thumbed toward the line. “You paying people to come in?”

Danny pointed to the door. “The Babe is here.”

Dorothy sucked in a quick gasp. “Babe Ruth.” She whispered the name to herself then squeezed my wrist, her nails practically drawing blood. “You know him?”

I shook my head. “We’ve never met, but we’re mutual friends with the owner of The Yankee Club, Gino Santoro.”

“Jake and Gino stole my bike,” Danny blurted. Even in the dim light his cheeks turned crimson.

Dorothy frowned. “Why would you steal his motorcycle?”

I struggled to keep from laughing. “It was a bicycle, and it happened a long time ago.”

“Not that long ago.” Danny’s lip curled into a sneer. He opened the door to let us in. Several people in line jeered and gave us the raspberry. He silenced them with a shake of one massive fist.

Inside I gritted my teeth and gave up any lingering hope of learning about Dorothy’s father anytime soon. Customers jammed the lobby waiting to get into the main room.

Dorothy coughed and covered her face. With so many people, the place smelled of cigarette smoke.

I hardly heard myself as I suggested we leave and find another place where we might talk.

Dorothy looked like she might strangle me for suggesting such a thing. “And miss the Bambino?” She rattled off Babe’s stats like a sportswriter. “In ’27 he belted sixty homers and batted .356. He’s never struck out a hundred times in any season. He still holds the World Series record for consecutive shutout innings by a pitcher.”

Most female sports enthusiasts I encountered weren’t as stunning as Dorothy.

“What made you a baseball fan?”

She cocked her head. “I didn’t become Daddy’s princess until my teen years. Before that he taught me to swim, shoot, play hockey, and play baseball. He took me to my first game when I was eight. The Babe pitched for the Red Sox and shut out the Yankees.”

Gino pushed his way through the crowd and entered the lobby.

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