Tell Them I'll Be There (18 page)

Barbara laughed. ‘What's wrong, Danny Boy? Embarrassed?'

‘He's not supposed to sing this. He knows that.'

‘It's just a song,' Barbara said.

‘You don't understand,' Dan said, but he didn't want to explain.

Michael sang the song beautifully, both verses, and the
audience
loved it. But as soon as he sang the last note, not wanting 
to wait for the applause that was about to break, he led the piano player into a fast swinging number.

‘That was lovely,' Barbara said, a question in her eyes. ‘But he couldn't wait to move on. Now why was that?'

A waiter silently handed Dan a piece of paper. It was a note from Michael. ‘
Couldn't get out of it
,' he read. ‘
O'Hara insisted. Sorry
.' Dan folded the note and put it away.

‘Not going to tell me what it says?' Barbara asked, amused.

‘It's a note from Michael. He says he couldn't get out of it. He had to sing it. O'Hara insisted.'

‘Well, he's the boss. But you shouldn't be so sensitive,
Danny boy
.' She laughed. ‘What does it matter? It's a lovely song.'

‘It wasn't about me,' he said. ‘But I don't want to talk about it.'

Jimmy Pickles was coming over. ‘Hey, Danny!' he said. ‘Michael did you proud there.'

‘Well, he didn't want to. Somebody put the pressure on him.'

‘Ah, sure. He didn't want to embarrass you. But you know how it is, if the boss tells you to do something you got to do it.'

‘Is that right?' Dan said, his tone less than friendly. ‘So what do you want, Mr Pickles?'

‘I reckon it's time you called me Jimmy,' he said, undeterred. ‘Everybody else does.'

‘Well, I'm not everybody else.'

Pickles shrugged. ‘OK. But listen. The boss wants to see you tomorrow. Lunch on him. Car will pick you up at one.'

Dan shook his head. ‘I don't think so.'

‘OK,' Pickles said. ‘Nice to see you, Barbara.'

‘I think we should go,' Dan said, as Pickles moved away.

‘We can't let them drive us off,' Barbara said. ‘I like it here and you are supposed to be taking me on a night out. All we've had up to now is long faces and arguments.'

Dan felt trapped. It was true. Tonight had been all about him and his brother and the problem of O'Hara. He gave Barbara a conciliatory smile. Encouraged, she pulled her chair round closer to his and leaned forward as if she was about to say something. But as he turned towards her, she planted a kiss fully on his lips and at that moment a camera flashed. 

‘Hey!' Dan reacted angrily. ‘What's going on?'

A photographer gripping a huge flash-bulb camera was dodging between tables and making for the exit. Dan stood up to follow him but the head waiter, a large bulky man was in his way, full of apologies.

‘I am so sorry, Mr Dolan,' he said, impeding him purposely. ‘We never allow cameras in the club. I promise you there will be a full investigation into how that man got in here.'

‘Oh sure.' Dan said scathingly. ‘I don't suppose anyone spotted his camera.' He sat down, knowing the man had got away with a compromising picture of himself and Mrs Joe Baker. He stood up again. ‘We're leaving,' he told Barbara. ‘At least, I am. You stay if you want to.'

Pickles was there again. ‘So sorry about that, Mr Dolan. The boss is furious. He wants to know how that creep got in here.'

‘I bet he does,' Dan said.

‘Well, look. Mr O'Hara has influence,
lots
of influence. That guy was from one of the dailies. The boss can stop that picture being spread across the gossip pages.'

‘Is that right?' Dan was furious with himself, angry that he had allowed himself to be set up.

‘Sure it is. We'll get on to it right away. Don't worry about it. And, like I said, the car will pick you up at one. OK?'

‘No,' Dan said. ‘It's not OK.'

‘Well, we'll see it doesn't get in the morning papers but we can't promise it won't be in one of the evenings. Unless you change your mind, of course.' He smiled smugly, sure of himself. ‘Car will come for you at one anyway. And if you are not there at one o'clock we will still have time to make the late editions.'

Dan called for the check but Pickles waved the waiter away. ‘That's OK, Mr Dolan. Tonight was on the house.'

Barbara led the way and as she called for a cab Dan gripped her by the arm. ‘Why did you do that?' he demanded.

‘I didn't know they had a photographer, did I? You were very close and I wanted to kiss you. That's all there was to it.'

She tried to hold on to him but he pulled away and they 
stood apart, waiting for the cab. They didn't speak again until the cab stopped outside Joe Baker's Park Avenue apartment.

‘Are you coming up?' she asked.

‘No,' he said emphatically.

‘OK,' she said mildly. ‘Just tell me one thing. Why did you get so uptight when your brother sang
Danny Boy
?'

‘It's a family thing. We don't sing that in our family.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because when we do someone we care about dies.'

N
ATHAN WAS DOING
all right. He had found his forte, he said, and it was not a pianoforte. It was his natural flair for publicity. He had asked for a job at one of the new record companies and he had been taken on part-time. But Nathan had little idea of time. He was soon seen to be working full-time, putting all his efforts into promoting the company and its records, and as soon as a rival company tried to poach him he was taken on as a properly paid, full-time member of staff. But he didn't stop there. Soon he had music shops like Mr Levi's branching out and selling the latest records and popular music blared all day from shops along 27
^th
and 28
^th
, Vans with loudspeakers toured both the East and the West Side, stopping like ice cream vendors, to sell their latest products, the newest sheet music with hit records from Jolson, Cantor and Michael Dolan. And Nathan was the driving force, coming up with new ideas week after week and promoting his pal Michael at every opportunity.

He had his own office now and he was surprised one
afternoon
when the receptionist buzzed him to say a young lady who said her name was Annie was asking to see him. ‘Show her in,' he said at once and he was on his feet to greet her.

Annie looked a little pale and she was clearly agitated.

‘Annie!' he said. ‘What is it? What's happened.'

‘Nothing,' she said. ‘Yet. But I want you to help me, Nathan.'

‘Sure. Anything. You know that.'

‘I'm leaving town. Now. Tonight. I want you to tell Michael for me. I didn't want to leave a note and just go.' 

Nathan nodded, frowning. ‘So go on. Tell me. What brought this on? Things not working out for you two?'

‘Oh no,' she said. ‘It's not that. It's … Well, I've been warned. I've got to leave Michael alone, get out of his life.'

‘Says who?'

‘O'Hara. He sent Jimmy Pickles to see me after the show last night. He said Michael doesn't need a girlfriend. Michael's going places and he's not carrying any baggage. If I know what's good for me I'll go, disappear, get lost. Michael doesn't need me.'

‘Of course he needs you.' Nathan was furious. ‘They can't do this. Mike won't have it. You know what he's like. He'll just walk out. He'll tell 'em where to put their job.'

‘But I don't want him to. He'll never get another chance like this. I don't want him to throw it all away because of me.'

‘I'm telling you, when Mike hears about this …'

‘Pickles says I have to leave before he knows.'

‘And if you don't?'

‘They'll deal with me.'

‘Pickles threatened you?'

‘You know what they're like. They're criminals, killers. O'Hara is mad and so is Pickles, couple of psychopaths. I have to go. I'm scared, Nathan. I just want you to wish Michael all the luck in the world from me. Tell him I'll always love him and maybe one day …'

‘Don't talk like that,' Nathan told her. ‘You live here. Your work is here. You don't have to go just because some mobster says so.'

‘Nathan,' Annie said quietly, ‘I do and you know it. I've had my warning and I've got to leave. Now. Tonight. Just tell Michael I hope he goes all the way to the top or wherever he wants to be.'

She came round the desk and embraced him, even managed a smile. ‘It's been great knowing you, Nathan. You've been a good friend to both of us. You're a lovely man and I'll miss you.'

‘Where will you go?'

‘I'll go home until I can find a job. Touring, maybe.' She tried to smile again. ‘Take care and take good care of Michael for me.' 

‘I think you should see him before you go. I'll give him a call.'

‘No, please,' she said. ‘I have to go. There's a train from Penn Station in about thirty minutes. I have to be on it.'

‘Train to where?'

She shook her head. ‘'Bye, Nathan. I hope everything goes well. For you and for Michael. But I have to go.'

‘Annie, wait!' he pleaded, but she turned on her heel and left.

Nathan grabbed the telephone on his desk. ‘Michael!' he said urgently. ‘Meet me at Penn Station, main steps. Now! You have to. We've no time to waste. It's about Annie. I'll explain later.'

It was raining hard, slanting sidelong in windswept sheets, as the cab dropped Michael at the station steps. Nathan was waving frantically from the cover of the wide entrance.

The concourse was flooded with shoppers and commuters.

‘She said she was going home?' Michael demanded.

Nathan nodded. ‘So where is that? Do you know?'

‘Place called Paduca,' Michael said. ‘Chicago line.'

People swirled around them as they stared up at the giant departures board. Six o'clock from Platform 17. The New
York-Chicago
Pullman. It was already a minute past six.

A porter was at the gate to Platform 17 as they raced through, brushing him aside. ‘Too late, fellas,' he cried. ‘She's on her way.'

The train was gathering speed, all doors locked, and there was no way Michael could climb aboard. Desperate now, he raced alongside. All along the train passengers were leaning out, hands raised at those they were leaving behind. He scanned the carriages and then he saw her and she saw him. She was at a window too far down for him to reach. She raised a hand and he stopped running, his eyes asking a question as the train took a bend in the track and curved away and Annie was lost from view.

‘Come on, Mike,' Nathan said, catching up. ‘She's gone. It's probably for the best.'

‘What do you mean
for the best
?' Michael said angrily.

‘Come on. Take it easy. Let's go home, talk about it.'

Nathan followed him down the wide steps as Michael called up one of the waiting cabs. ‘Bedford Street,' he said. 

Nathan was worried. ‘You can't go there. Not yet. You've got to calm down, think this through.'

‘Nothing to think about. I need to see O'Hara, let him know he doesn't own me.'

‘Well, that's the trouble,' Nathan said. ‘He thinks he does. And if you want to go on singing you have to accept that. He brought you a long way, Mike, and he can just as easy drop you.'

‘So let him drop me.'

‘Is that what you really want? Annie wouldn't want you to give up everything. You got too much to lose.'

‘I've lost the only thing that matters and I'm going to get her back.'

The cab pulled in on Bedford Street, a few steps from O'Hara's door. One of O'Hara's men was on duty. He
recognized
Michael and immediately swung open the door for him. Jimmy Pickles was in the hallway with three more of what Nathan called ‘O'Hara's gorillas'.

‘Where is he?' Michael demanded. ‘Where's O'Hara?'

Pickles raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Mr O'Hara is not expecting you, Dolan, What can I do for you?'

‘I want to see the organ grinder,' Michael said.

Two of the gorillas moved over to block the door to O'Hara's office.

‘Something ruffle the canary's feathers?' Pickles asked with a grin and the gorillas laughed.

Michael moved towards him but then the door opened and O'Hara's bulky frame filled the gap. ‘What's going on here?' he asked.

He saw Michael at once, ‘Ah, Michael!' He smiled
expansively
. ‘Come in. Come in.' Pickles put two fingers to Nathan's chest but O'Hara said, ‘It's OK. He can come too.'

Nathan and Pickles followed Michael into the room O'Hara used as an office, the room with the half closed slatted blinds, the room that always seemed to be in semi-darkness as if to hide from the outside world the true nature of the business.

O'Hara sat behind his large desk, his hands together, fingers 
interlocked. ‘You look as though something's bothering you, Michael,' he said mildly. ‘So what's the problem?'

‘You are,' Michael said bluntly and the other two flinched.

O'Hara laughed ‘Lot of people think that, so what's your beef?'

‘You know well enough,' Michael said, the anger still churning inside him. ‘You told my girl to leave town or else ‘

O'Hara looked at Jimmy Pickles. ‘Did we say “or else”, Jimmy?' he asked innocently.

Pickles raised his shoulders, spread his hands, but didn't speak.

‘We told her to leave town,' O'Hara acknowledged, his voice hardening, ‘and I hope for your sake she's gone.'

‘But why?'

‘Because you don't need a girlfriend. Not that one anyway. We can fix you up seven nights a week, as many broads as you want. But you don't need a
girl
friend, someone who might get serious.'

‘We're already
serious
. We're going to get married.'

O'Hara laughed again. ‘Listen, son,' he said. ‘I've sunk a lot of dough into smoothing your way. Why do you think you get these singing dates? Why do you think your pan's in the papers nearly every day? Why do you think you got a record deal? You owe me big time and I say when you can get married.'

‘Makes sense, Michael,' Pickles said. ‘Good-looking young guy singing his way to the top. Single, no strings. Much bigger deal than some married guy with a wife and kids.'

Nathan nodded. He could see the sense in that, but Michael turned on Pickles. ‘Who asked you?' To O'Hara he said, ‘Listen, I don't care about you and your big plans. Annie is my girl and that's all there is to it.'

O'Hara stood up, a large, shadowy presence behind his desk. ‘We can do this two ways,' he said. ‘I can work out what I spent on you to date and you can buy yourself out. Or you show up at the club tonight, you put on the performance of your life and we forget we ever had this conversation. OK?'

Michael shook his head and made for the door. 

‘And Dolan,' O'Hara said calmly. ‘If you don't show up tonight you'd better find a good hiding place because we'll find you, no matter how long it takes, and you'll be sorry.'

Michael left and he was striding up the street, Nathan running after him.

‘Slow down,' Nathan begged and he tried to draw him into a sidewalk café. ‘Let's sit down, talk about this.'

But Michael was not listening. He simply flagged down a passing cab. Back at the apartment he swung a suitcase up onto the bed and began opening drawers and packing his clothes.

‘You can't do this,' Nathan warned him. ‘It's too dangerous. You got to stay for now. You can't afford to buy yourself out and you can't just go. They'll come after you and it won't just be you. You'll be risking Annie's life, too. You know what they're like.'

‘This has been coming for a while,' Michael told him quietly. ‘I knew I'd have to make my mind up soon. Be O'Hara's slave or be my own man. Well, I've had enough. I'm not going to be a slave for anybody. Especially a slimy crook like O'Hara. I'm leaving and that's it.'

‘You'll be throwing away a lot,' Nathan told him. ‘Everything you've worked for since we arrived. From where you stand now you can see the top. People know your name. You're Michael Dolan. Walk away and you'll be just one of thousands again, a nobody, just another warbler in some bar or some cheap dance hall. You know how tough it is out there.'

‘You don't know the whole story, Nathan,' Michael said calmly, ‘That crazy psycho had other plans.'

‘What other plans?'

‘He only wanted me to get involved with his little niece, the one who sits out front with the dreamy look in her eyes. Seems she wants a guy who can sing her to sleep at night.' He laughed bitterly. ‘It's not the kid's fault. It's him. He lets her think she can have anything she wants.'

‘He can't make you do that,' Nathan said.

‘He thinks he can make me do anything. He cracks the whip and I jump. Well, this time he's mistaken.' 

He put both his arms around Nathan. ‘You can manage this place, can't you? You've got a good job.'

‘Oh, sure,' Nathan said, resigned now. ‘Don't you worry about me. I'm going to miss you, sure I am. All that gargling first thing in the morning. All that running up and down scales. But I'll manage.' More soberly, he said, ‘Be careful, Mike. And better not try to get in touch. Not for a while anyway.'

Michael nodded. ‘When you get the chance, do me a favour? Tell our Dan what this is all about. Tell him I didn't have time to see him before I left. But when the dust settles, could be a year or so, I will be in touch.' He smiled. ‘And don't look so worried. I'll be back. I'm your original bad penny.'

Dan was eager to see Joe Baker before the late 'papers came out. As there was no sign of Paul Merrick that morning, he left Harry in charge of the office. Pops was not at the NYU Center. He had been sent for a couple of nights' stay to a hospital out on Long Island. But the trains were frequent enough and before noon Dan was walking up a long driveway. At first he thought he had come to the wrong place. The sign over the entrance said ‘St Mary's Hospital, Institute of Oncology'. It was a cancer hospital. He looked back at the long driveway and decided to ask at the desk if this could possibly be the place. The receptionist said yes, there was a Mr Joe Baker here. She would check, she said, if Mr Baker wished to see him.

A nurse approached Joe Baker who was sitting out on a back porch that overlooked a long pleasant stretch of green. ‘You have a visitor, Mr Baker,' she said. ‘Young gentleman. A Mr Dolan.'

Baker nodded in surprise, pulling his pale-blue hospital dressing-gown into place. ‘Bring him through.'

Dan followed the nurse through the elegant hallway and an even more elegant lounge to where Baker was waiting.