The Don's house had become a stifling prison. That was why I was cleaning dishes in Victor's little shanty. He hated it when I cleaned up, but I wasn't going to eat and sleep there and have him pick up after me. I looked up to see Victor wearing a black turtleneck under his blazer and the man he had been torturing for weeks, Butch, standing directly behind him.
"What are you up to?" I asked.
"We have business at Oswald's if you want to come along?" Victor replied.
Fish Mooney's club, now Oswald's, was only a few blocks away from where Victor lived and so we walked. I felt we must have been the strangest trio in the city as we pushed past civilians on the sidewalks and sauntered down the street.
The lighting seemed dimmer than when Fish had owned it, but perhaps it was because it was not technically open. Oswald was only auditioning talent. We left Butch where we could call on him later. Victor brought me forward, holding my hand.
"Oswald!" he called, getting the small man's attention.
"Victor," he responded and snapped, sending the violinist away.
He dropped my hand and took another step towards Oswald. "Don Falcon thinks you're messing up. Your numbers are down, he thinks you don't know how to run a club."
"I didn't come here to talk!" Victor yelled; his hands curled into fists at his sides.
"Good manners cost nothing you know," Oswald replied, put off by Victor's demeanor.
The bald man whistled and Butch appeared. Oswald freaked out and I laughed along with Victor although I was merely a spectator. "Relax," Victor said. "He's harmless. Say 'hi,' Butch."
"Hi," echoed the large man.
"Falcone didn't want to throw him away, so I worked on him in my basement for a couple of weeks. He's a whole new man, right, Butch?" explained Victor.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Zsasz," came Butch's reply.
"Butch knows the club scene up and down. He'll help you out."
"But he's Butch Gilzean. He's loyal to Fish Mooney!" Oswald protested.
"And he'll do exactly as you say," Victor grinned and snaked his arm over my shoulders.
I tried to remain stoic, but I enjoyed the feeling of appearing as Victor's sidekick.
"Hey, Butch, dance for me," commanded Oswald.
Butch immediately began an awkward jig that made me giggle. Oswald and Victor laughed as well.
"I do good work," Victor announced, admiring Butch's dedication. He pressed his forehead to mine.