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THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: Of all the gin joints in all the world…

Categories: E, F

“The Big Goodbye”

by Eric R. Umali

Chapter 4 - “Cocktails and Conversation”

The brush made its hundredth pass through the mane of fiery red hair, and was placed back on the table.  There were several more make-up tables just like this one in the dressing room– cluttered with hair accoutrements, mismatched pieces of costume jewelry and cosmetics, and topped with the same lightbulb-ringed mirror on top.

No one back in Chester would recognize the face in the mirror now.  Between the carefully coiffed hair, the heavy, dramatic makeup, and the sparkling baubles hanging at her ears, Jenny– no, it was Jennifer now, she reminded herself– could hardly recognize herself.

As soon as she’d signed on, the other girls in the show took to her immediately as the naïve little sister to the entire group.  Jennifer had been taken under their collective wing, and they’d shown her all the little things to know about the less glamorous side of show business.  She absorbed it all like a sponge, wide-eyed and eager to please, and she was loving it all.  Except, though, for one thing.

Jennifer stood, and smoothed out the dress.  It clung a little more and dipped a little further in front and back than she’d usually like, but she _was_ a showgirl now.  This was the part she still hadn’t gotten used to.  Like all the other girls, she was required to walk around in the club for the two hours between opening and the start of the show, to “mingle” as they called it, with the customers.  It was their job to chat up the gentlemen, or to gossip a bit with the ladies– anything to keep them happy and keep them spending money.

She was perfectly happy to talk, or play hostess for the club.  Jennifer enjoyed talking to people, especially the famous and well-to-do that frequented the Silver Slipper.  It were the looks from some of the men that lasted just a little too long, and the eyes that dipped quickly when she was talking.  Jennifer sighed, wrote it off to a small-town girl’s thin skin as she always did, and walked out of the dressing room.

She’d been mingling for more than an hour when she stepped up to the bar.  Benny scooped up a tip of two bits from one side, then began wiping out a glass as he walked up to her.

“What’ll it be, Jennifer?”

“Hizzoner at table eight will take a scotch on the rocks.  I’ll have my usual.”

The bartender nodded and placed the glass on the bar, followed by another, then placed ice in both.  In one, he gave a short pour of three fingers– the amber liquid coming up just a bit less than it was supposed to.  Benny cracked a glass bottle and filled the other glass almost to the top with Coke, then slipped in a few drops of the good rum, twirling it with a stick.

Jennifer took a sip.  “Thanks, Benny.”

“Bartender!” growled someone from behind her.  She turned to find the wide expanse of Tony Carlotti, a regular at the club.  Fat Tony, as he was called (never to his face), was Mr. Z’s unctuous and unpleasant accountant.  He was also, as might be politely termed, one of Jennifer’s most ardent and unwelcome admirers.

Jennifer pulled out her best pasted-on smile.  “Good evening, Mister Carlotti.”

“’Evening, Red,” he replied, using the nickname that had stuck to her despite Jennifer’s best efforts.  Fat Tony turned to the bar.  “Usual, Benny, and a real Cuba Libre for Red here.”

“Now, Mister Carlotti,” said Jennifer, “you know I can’t drink before the show.  You don’t want me falling off the stage, do you?”

Fat Tony laughed.  “Only if you fall on me, gorgeous.”

Jennifer kept her smile up and grabbed the two drinks she’d ordered before.  “I’ve got to bring these over and chat a while, but I’ll be back soon, Mister Carlotti.”

The man’s pudgy hand clamped itself onto her wrist.  “You can spare a couple of moments for Tony, can’t ya, Red?”

“But Judge Foster–“

“Works for Mr. Z, just like you do.”

Her attention focussed on Fat Tony, Jennifer didn’t notice the man who stepped up behind her.

“You’re an employee, yourself, Tony,” said the man in a calm, even voice.  “And you know how Mr. Z hates owning damaged goods.”

Jennifer was surprised to see Fat Tony’s face register first surprise, then fear.  He released her immediately.  “We was just having some fun, weren’t we, Red?  Nothing to tell the boss, right?”

She turned.  Standing there was a young man in an expensive pin-striped suit, with slick-blacked blonde hair.  His eyes were a clear blue, but were surrounded by lines and had a hauntedness to them that made him seem much older.  Even as he removed his fedora and brushed back a few errant locks of hair, the young man’s gaze remained on Fat Tony.

“Everything’s fine,” said Jennifer.

“That’s good to hear,” he replied.  “Tony– the boss wants you in his office, ASAP.”

Jennifer had never seen the rotund man move so quickly.  She took a seat on the stool while the young man leaned up against the bar.  He nodded to Benny, and the bartender placed a glass on the counter and poured out a bourbon and branch water.

“I, uh, haven’t seen you around,” said Jennifer.  “You work for Mr. Z, too?”

“That’s right.”

“Doing what?”

He took a long pull on his drink.  “Odd jobs.”

Jennifer raised an eyebrow.  “That’s a pretty evasive answer.”

He smiled.  “That’s a pretty sharp observation.”  He held out his hand.  “Jimmy.”

She took it.  “Jennifer Montrose.  Jimmy what?”

“Just Jimmy.”

“Okay, Mister Mysterious.  So, why haven’t I seen you before?”

Jimmy gestured for a refill.  “I’ve been travelling.  I was on a… business trip for the last couple of weeks.  You’re new here?”

“Been here a whole week,” she said nodding.  Her eyes went wide.  “Oh, no, the Judge’s drink.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Jimmy replied.  “He’s taken care of.”

Jennifer looked over his shoulder to where Judge Foster was sitting.  Playfully sitting on his lap was Missy, one of the other chorus girls.  “How’d you know that?”

“It’s my business to keep tabs on anything that affects Mr. Z’s business.  Judge Foster is important to certain dealings.”  He took another draught.  “You a chorus girl, Jennifer Montrose?”

“For now.”  She smiled.

Jimmy finished the drink.  “That’s the spirit.”  He stepped back.  “I’ve gotta go talk to the boss.  I’ll see you around, Jennifer Montrose.”  With a nod, he turned and headed for the stairs.

Watching him go, Jennifer put her elbow on the bar and rested her chin on her hand.  Benny came up to freshen her drink.

“If you’re willing to take an old man’s advice…” he began.

She turned.  “Always, Benny.”

Benny swallowed.  “That young man, Miss Jennifer– you oughta stay clear of him.”

“He seems okay enough, why do you say that?”

The bartender shook his head.  “It’s nothing I know for myself, you see, it’s really just what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, now Benny, you know you can’t take gossip seriously.”

“I’m not talking about gossip, Miss Jennifer.  You’d be surprised at how many things you can learn from this side of the bar rail.”  He looked towards the top of the stairs where Jimmy had just disappeared into the door that led to Mr. Z’s suite of offices at the club.  “He’s bad news.”

“I’m a big girl, Benny, all grown up.  I can look out for myself.”  Jennifer took a long sip of her drink, feeling the cool of the soda and the warmth of the rum course down her throat.  “But,” she added, “it’s nice to know you care.”

Jennifer finished her drink and headed for the hall that led backstage, leaving Benny shaking his head.

**********

Jessie leaned back, scanning the next couple of pages.  “It seems Jennifer was smart enough to do a little homework on this guy.  She asked the other girls in the chorus about him.  Seems young Jimmy made a real habit of fishing off the company pier.”

“Pardon me?” asked Hadji.

“Apparently, he’d dated just about every girl in the Silver Slipper chorus, two hatcheck girls and three waitresses.”

Jonny leaned forward.  “Anything about what exactly it was he did?”

She flipped the pages again.  “Nope.  All the girls told him that he was a real nice guy, high up in the organization, and pretty well off.”

Hadji’s laptop began to beep, and he flipped it open.  His friends stood behind him.

“What’ve you got, Hadj?”

“I have been running a thorough data search on all of the details related to Jennifer Montrose, as we discover them.  It seems, Jonny, that we have a hit.”  His fingers danced away at the keys.

“Aha!” he cried.  “There was a Jennifer Montrose living at the Sunrise Retirement Facility in Pearl River, New York.  The most recent social security check sent to that name arrived in 1989.”

“Oh, no,” said Jessie, “you said ‘_was_ living’?  You mean she’s dead?”

“Seems so, Jess.”  Jonny looked away from the screen.  “We can still head out there and see if they’ve got information on next of kin.”

“I can do better than that,” replied Hadji.  “According to these records, a _Veronica_ Montrose is currently still receiving her social security payments at Sunrise Retirement Facility today.”

“A relative?”  Jessie’s eyes brightened at the prospect.

Hadji went to work, eventually making his way into Sunrise’s records.  He smiled.  “Not only a relative, Veronica Montrose is listed as Jennifer’s next-of-kin: her sister.”

“I’d say it’s time for a road trip, don’t you?”

TO BE CONTINUED…