The band was finishing its set now. Olivia introduced the musicians. "On trumpet and cornet, Mr. Davis 'Toots' Mayall!" Toots flashed a wide grin. He took a bow so deep and prolonged that Joe thought for an instant of yoga postures. He received enthusiastic applause. "Providing the rock steady rhythm, Mr. Chester Smith on bass!" He gave a little nod to the audience. "Giving the skins a real workout tonight, our drummer Floyd Emerson!" Emerson, who had been a source of volcanic energy all through the set, finally dropped his arms behind his back, still holding the drumsticks. "Our pianist, Mr. Ettore Sciorra." He looked up, slightly startled, as if he suddenly realized there was an audience in the room. "I try to convince him that 'Ettore' is Italian for 'star' but he's a shy man and he won't take his place in the spotlight. Give him some encouragement, folks." The crowd clapped and Ettore nodded happily.
The Hardys sat close enough to the stage to hear the musicians talking as they put away their instruments and prepared to walk off.
"We couldn't even play that tune last week because Toots here didn't have his cornet," said Floyd.
"Last week was last week. Don't you think a man can turn over a new leaf any week if he wants to?"
"I'll believe Toots has turned over a new leaf when I see it," said Chester. "At least you got that horn out of hock. A man's not much without a horn." The band mates guffawed.
"J. D. said there was a bottle of cognac waiting backstage," said Floyd. "Must be mighty good news to share that with the hired help."
"Maybe later, boys," said Toots.
"How about you, Olivia?"
Olivia wasn't paying attention. She alighted from the platform.
"Olivia's man is back in town. She doesn't have time for her buddies in the band anymore," Floyd concluded.
"He's been away eight years. That's a whole lot of love that needs catching up on," Chester joked.
"Love has to be expressed," Toots pronounced. "That's why God gave us music."
Olivia strode over to the Hardys' table. A radiant smile was on her face. She was a lovely young woman, Joe thought. She bent over the seated Heinze and they kissed. They seemed like a married couple. "I'll be back in a minute," she said, patting the top of Heinze's hand. She and the other band members walked into the wings of the stage, except Toots who headed for the front entrance.
The imposing doorman appeared silently beside their table. "Montgomery Harris!" said Mr. Charles with enthusiasm. "Come join me and my young friends." Harris was impassive at first, then slowly cracked a wide grin. Joe noticed that under the doorman's jacket a baby blue silk vest was shimmering. In his pocket was a matching display handkerchief. "Mr. Harris has been my acquaintance of many years' standing," Charles said by way of introduction. "How many years has it been since I sent you upriver for… extortion, wasn't it?"
"Seven, Mr. Charles. And I've been out for the last two."
"Did you make the most of your time there?"
"Oh, yes. I wouldn't be the man I am today if you hadn't got me arrested."
"You see! And they say that the nation's penal institutions are incapable of reforming the criminal element!"
After they had enjoyed a drink together Harris had to return to his duties at the entrance.
"He didn't have a gun," observed Joe.
"Oh, I think he does," replied Charles. "The last time I met up with him he had a small pistol in a pocket sewn into the back of his jacket. He also had a big throwing knife strapped to his left leg. I would guess the reason he's not packing a big heater is that he's got one near at hand."
Some ten minutes later Frank spotted a familiar figure. "Oh no, here comes trouble," he groaned. In a wide-brimmed black hat and an oyster-gray trench coat was Molly Mirkin.
"I thought she was only going to make a cameo appearance," quipped Joe.
"Hello boys. I said I would see you again soon. And who do we have here?"
"Did you follow us?" accused Frank.
"The idea that I would stoop to such crude tactics! Certainly not. As I said, I have my own sources."
"At least, did you make sure no one followed you?"
"Damn it, I didn't think--"
Frank leapt out of his chair and headed for the club's entrance. He only got as far as the passageway when he turned and came back. He pulled Heinze up with a hand under the German's arm and led him away from the table.
Joe soon saw the cause of his brother's alarm. Entering the room were two men. There was nothing particularly striking or suspicious about them but Joe recognized one of them, a man in a black trench coat, from the night of Heinze's scheduled lecture.