The woman apologizes for the interruption and leans in to whisper in Major Thomas’s ear.
“I’m sorry, but my daughter, Vivian Jean, needs my help.” Major Thomas and his daughter walk off side by side, and I thank God. Her interruption is a blessing. The watch I need to steal is dangling from Miss Vivian Jean’s neck on a gold chain. I know the style and am familiar with the clasp. I also have a keen sense of the watch’s weight. Stealing it will require skill—lifting a pocket watch hanging from a gold chain around a woman’s neck is slightly trickier than taking it from a man’s vest pocket—but doesn’t Tony call me the queen of the fingersmiths?
Tonight, I’ll just have to prove him right.
Using an excuse about needing to visit the powder room, I ditch Robbie Barnes, telling him to wait for me by the gazebo in the garden. I have no idea if there is a garden or a gazebo, but he is as happy as a clam at the prospect of a rendezvous with me. As he rushes off in one direction, I head toward the direction taken by Major Thomas and his daughter.
I stay behind them at a respectful distance, passing the Augusta Savage statue and the small stage with the quartet until they arrive at the buffet and greet another woman, pretty like her but different. This woman is as beautiful as Josephine Baker, with the same long neck, graceful arms, and a tilt of her head that reminds me of the chorus girls at the Dreamland Café or the Plantation Café—back before the stock market crash. My mother used to sneak me into those nightclubs when I was a little girl, when Prohibition, bootleggers, and jazz were the only currency that mattered to her.
Whatever Vivian Jean told her father involves this woman, who looks like a dancer.
They huddle together, I guess to comfort her, but she is not in tears. She’s just angry. I don’t even bother eavesdropping. I’m plotting my next move on the watch.
If handled correctly, I anticipate an easy grab and go. I just need to be patient and wait for the right moment and a distraction.
I move closer, unable not to overhear snippets of their conversation about husbands or boyfriends, boat rides, and the sea. The two women are planning to travel to New York later that night, but one of their boyfriends or husbands has unexpectedly shown up at the reception, and he isn’t welcome. It’s a lovers’ spat. I smile, thinking it’s refreshing to know that wealthy women have man trouble, too. The major reassures her not to worry. He’ll take care of it.
That’s my cue. I pivot as the major walks away, causing him to bump into me. He apologizes, just as I expected, but now I’m close enough to nudge his daughter’s elbow. Vivian Jean spills her champagne away from her body and onto the other woman’s dress. Apologies fall from her lips as she and the woman are drawn to the spilled champagne on the dancer’s white satin gown. Major Thomas is long outta sight by now. And while the two women attend to the mishap’s damage, my nimble fingers work their magic.
A few hectic minutes pass. “Don’t worry,” Vivian Jean finally assures the woman. “No damage has been done.”
She smiles at me, and I smile back, patting her arm with one hand. With my other hand, I unfasten the necklace clasp, and within those brief seconds, the pocket watch on its gold chain is mine.
“Still, I’m sorry,” I repeat, positioning myself within the group.
Vivian Jean introduces me to Katherine Dunham, the woman with her, who is a dancer (so I was right). She mentions a boat leaving New York for Kingston on Thursday, just two days away. I miss a chunk of the conversation, thinkingabout the pocket watch on its gold chain safely hidden in my brassiere. My ample breasts are the perfect hiding place for stolen goods. That’s what I’m counting on.
The only thing left for me is to hightail it to one of the exits I scoped out. First, though, I scan the room for new marks. Feeling lucky, I might as well go for some easy sleight-of-hand jobs—wallets and money clips—just in case Tony shortchanges me.
I walk away from the two women without them noticing. I decide to make a move on a sparkly brooch worn by a girl far too young to appreciate it, but I don’t get very far. I’m suddenly grabbed around the waist from behind. My first thought is,oh no, it’s that boy, Robbie Barnes. But whoever has me is strong and hurting me. A sharp ache cuts across my midsection. This isn’t Robbie Barnes, but I know who it is. Nobody smells like olive-oil-scented soap quite like Perry’s brother, Jerry—nobody in Chicago.
Jerry spins me around so we’re face-to-face but not eye to eye. He’s a foot taller than I am. That doesn’t mean I can’t get away. I might if I start a brawl or at least a scuffle. Then when others notice, I’ll run, which might jostle the pocket watch loose. The cops will show up and arrest me because Tony says they have me pegged for killing Perry. If that happens, it’ll be Jerry, who runs off, free as a bird.
My imagination is quick, but that means I’ll be better off talking my way out of this.
“Why are you here? I didn’t kill him, Jerry. I hit him in the head, but he was alive when I left the apartment. Talk to Tony Schaefer—there was a witness. I betcha that witness killed Perry.”
“Tony said you’d say that.”
“You talked to Tony?”
“I had a chat with him,” he replies.
“He didn’t tell you where to find me, did he?”
“Naw. I saw you at the Savoy and followed you here.” His fingers dig into my skin and I gasp.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Too bad. I bet that fucking gash you gave Perry hurt, too.”
“Someone should wash your mouth out with soap.” I need to stall, even if I’m just talking nonsense. I need time to come up with a plan on how to escape. “What’s that greasy soap you like called? Palmolive? You should eat it, too. Might help with your bad breath.”
“Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?” He pulls me close, and I wonder why no one notices what he’s doing to me. Maybe it’s because there’s music, and we could be dancing.
“You don’t have feelings. You’re a thug. All you got is a nasty mouth and two fists. And no brains.”
“Your tongue is gonna get my boot in your face. You’ll be as good as dead with that pretty face ruined.”
