I start to sift through my collection of lies. “Oh, really? Where was that?”
“Dancing at the Savoy Ballroom.”
This could mean nothing or everything, depending on whether I was out on a night on the town or working. “I love to dance. I used to go to the Savoy a lot. Do you dance? Do you like jazz? With your education, background, and upbringing, a young man like you would have been a regular at the Savoy.”
He swallows nervously. “I also saw you at that black-and-tan on 55th and State, the Club DeLisa.”
“Oh, yeah. I went there a few times.” Now that’s different. The DeLisa brothers owned that spot. They also ran the gambling hall in the basement. If Robbie had seen me there, he would know more about me than was safe. “You decided to keep that a secret, huh?” I moisten my lips. “You didn’t tell Major Thomas or his daughter, Miss Vivian Jean, or Katherine Dunham, did you?”
Robbie looks alarmed. “Oh no, I would never do that.”
“I’m not sure I can trust you. I’d feel better if you shared a secret about yourself. That way, we’d be even.”
“I don’t have any secrets.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” I insist. “You stayed quiet about seeing me at the Club DeLisa, which means you were inside the Club DeLisa, and in the basement, ’cause downstairs was the only place I hung out.” Sweetly wrinkling my nose, I continue, “And if you don’t tell me the truth, I might have to confess to Major Thomas that you’re making him foot the bill for a woman who is nothing more than a floozy.” I fold my arms over my chest. “I bet he wouldn’t like that at all.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“What? I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”
“You promise to keep a secret?”
“So you do have secrets?” I smile and quickly cross my heart. “Sure, I promise. Come on, Robbie. Spill it.”
“I ran numbers out of the Club DeLisa for a spell. That’s why I was inside that basement gambling hall pretty regularly. You know they had a policy gambling wheel, too.”
“Now we’re cooking,” I say gleefully. “Yeah, I know that wheel. I never ran numbers. I knew a few big-time operators but made better money doing other things. You aren’t the straw man I thought you were. Who’d you work for?”
“I can’t tell you who I worked for unless we make a pact.”
I gaze at him suspiciously. “What kind of pact?”
Robbie makes a fist, holding it too close to my face, but raises only his pinky finger. “From now on, we’ll keep each other’s secrets. No matter what. Pinky swear.”
I look at him and then at his finger and wonder what in the hell he is goin’ on about. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Pinky swear—it’s the best kind of swear. It means that whoever breaks the promise must swallow a thousand needles. So we have to trust each other completely, never shareour secrets with anyone else, and never lie to each other. It also means we’re best friends.”
“What?” I am so confused. “Are you making this whole thing up?”
“No, ma’am.”
I stare him in the eye, searching for a dent in his armor. But I need him to keep his mouth shut about the Club DeLisa and me. Neither can I allow him to mention his trip to the Savoy Ballroom for my suitcase. So, I guess I’m doing this thing with him. He interlocks his little finger with mine.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Pinky swear—we’re friends. It’s official.”
Robbie’s grin is enormous. “Best friends who keep each other’s secrets and never lie to each other.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now tell me, who’d you run numbers for?”
He chuckles. “A few years back, right after the stock market crashed, a group of colored businessmen from Bronzeville started a small enterprise to raise capital—that’s how they put it, and, well—”
“Stop stonewalling me. Who was it?”
“Major Thomas was one of the businessmen but was also in the rum-running business back in the day.”
“Wow. That might explain why Tony Schaefer wants to teach him a lesson.” The puzzle pieces are coming together. “How old were you?”
