Chapter 7
Jarrod took the draft contract to the secretary in the morning and arranged for a three o'clock meeting where the documents would be signed. Then the work he came here to do would be finished. The rest of what he had gotten himself into – that he didn't know.
After delivering the paperwork, Jarrod was to join Nick at a local restaurant for a breakfast. He found Nick relaxing at a table on the sidewalk and reading a newspaper. Jarrod was heading toward him to sit down with him when a working woman came up to him on the street – and slapped him across the face.
"Jack Darby, I ought to kill you!" she said loudly enough for the whole block to hear.
Nick looked up at his brother, now open-mouthed and holding his cheek, and Nick laughed. Jarrod almost said that he wasn't Jack Darby, but then he remembered he had a police tail nearby who was probably hearing all this, and he remembered he was going to play along. "My good woman," Jarrod said, "please forgive me if I have transgressed in any way with you, but alas, I cannot remember – "
She slapped him again, saying, "Of course you don't remember. You never remember anyone but yourself!" And she kept on walking.
Jarrod made his way to Nick's table and sat down with him. Nick folded his newspaper and put it away, still grinning from ear to ear. He pointed to the pot of coffee on his table. "Have some coffee, Jack," he said quietly. "It might help take the sting out."
Jarrod glared. "Don't start enjoying this calling me 'Jack' business," he said, just as quietly.
Nick shrugged. "I might as well get some fun out of this. Did you have any other trouble this morning?"
"No, and I haven't picked up who my shadow is, either," Jarrod said, pouring coffee into a cup in front of him.
"I got a big feeling that both Darby and our hit man have left town," Nick said. "I'll bet the hit man caught on somehow and this impersonation you're doing will end up being pointless."
"I hope you're right," Jarrod said and sipped his coffee. Then he started thinking ahead. "Now, I don't see any reason we can't go with my original plan for this evening. We can get Michael to put us together with a couple of lovelies and take them dancing. You'll just have to decide what kind of lovely you want. I'm staying on the straight and narrow myself. I don't want to risk our hit man or one of my cop shadows barging in on a private moment."
"Probably a good idea," Nick said. "Michael can get us straight and narrow lovelies?"
"Michael can get us anything – including sixteen-year-old boys if we were so inclined."
Nick whistled low. "This is a nasty town, isn't it?"
"The nastiest."
A waitress came over and Jarrod ordered some grits and eggs. He hadn't eaten at all before taking care of his official business this morning. As usual in New Orleans, the morning sky was clear and warm and a leisurely breakfast al fresco was very relaxing. Jarrod explained he had to go back to work at three. Nick explained he could entertain himself, and they agreed to meet back at the hotel at about four. They planned to meet with Michael and arrange for their evening company and dance after leaving here, and they would take the ladies to dinner at about seven and the dance at nine. Formal attire, stone cold sober when they picked up the ladies.
"We have a plan," Nick said.
"Let's hope we can keep it," Jarrod said.
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Making arrangements with Michael didn't take long, and then it was back up to the Absinthe House to play a little poker. Jarrod and Nick took separate tables as they played, and it was there that Jarrod finally spotted the man he thought was his police shadow. The man was alone, wandering about but not sitting down to gamble. It wasn't DuMont, and for a moment Jarrod wondered if in fact he wasn't a cop, but was the hit man.
"Your call, Mr. Darby," one of the other players reminded him and drew Jarrod's attention back to the game. Jarrod called and stayed in the hand.
"You're kind of distracted today, Jack," one of the other players said. "That's not like you."
"Well, you know how it is," Jarrod said. He had caught the man's name – Pillory – and figured out he was someone Darby knew but only at the gambling tables, so he could keep up casual conversation. "Life gets distracting sometimes."
Pillory put in his bet, and the dealer beside him dealt another round of cards in the seven card stud game. "Is that cop following you?" Pillory asked.
Jarrod looked a little surprised Pillory had caught on. Now everyone at the table started looking around. Jarrod smiled a sneaky little smile. "I thought he might be following you, Pillory. I'm not in any particular trouble I'm aware of."
Two other men at the table chuckled.
"Nothing more than the usual," Jarrod added.
The game continued. Pillory won that hand. As it finished and the dealer pulled the cards in to shuffle again, Jarrod stretched a bit and looked around for Nick. Nick had moved to a twenty-one table. Jarrod could see he had a sandwich and a beer. Jarrod checked his watch and decided he was peckish, too. He waved a waitress over and asked her to fetch him a sandwich and a beer, while Pillory and one other man did the same.
Jarrod checked his watch. It was just after two now and he realized he was going to have to hang things up in half an hour or so. "Gentlemen, I have a three o'clock appointment, so if you want to take any more of my money, we will have to finish things up."
"You're ahead by fifty," Pillory said.
The dealer dealt. Jarrod said, "I can lose that in a hurry."
While he took a bite of sandwich, Jarrod noticed someone else just wandering around, like the man he suspected was a cop. He wondered again for a moment if this was another cop, or was it the hit man who hadn't turned up the night before. In about half an hour, when he got up to head for his three o'clock appointment, Jarrod found out. The first man Jarrod suspected was a cop intentionally bumped into him.
"I beg your pardon," Jarrod said, bowing.
The man said, "I think you've picked up our hit man. Are you leaving?"
Jarrod said, "I have an appointment."
"Tall, dark-haired fellow at the bar right now," the cop said. "You go on out. If he follows you, I won't be far behind."
Jarrod nodded, then he went to the table where Nick was still playing twenty-one. He leaned over, saying quietly, "Cousin Nick, I'm heading for my appointment, and I will have two sets of company. Tall fellow at the bar is our hit man."
Nick's eyes flashed. "Is the cop here?"
"The guy I just bumped into. He'll follow if the hit man follows me. You follow him. I'll walk slow once I get outside."
Nick nodded and Jarrod left, his awareness level a lot higher than it had been when he came in.
Nick kept an eye out on the hit man and the cop, and sure enough, first the hit man and then the cop followed Jarrod out. Nick bailed on the hand he was playing and quickly left without cashing out. His awareness level was riding high, too, and when he got outside he was grateful he knew where Jarrod was going, because none of the men he was following were in sight anymore. Streets, buildings and sight lines were tight in New Orleans. Nick turned and headed down the street where he knew Jarrod was walking.
The hit man carefully moved up on Jarrod, who tried to keep some distance between them but then lost it when a carriage got in his way at a street corner. The hit man drew up beside him, took him unobtrusively by the arm, and pulled him into a dance club there on the corner, saying, "This way, Darby."
The club was closed but the door was unlocked, leaving Jarrod wondering how the hit man knew that. But it didn't matter. In a moment they were inside and stopped just inside the door as it closed behind them.
That was when the policeman following turned the corner and saw that he had lost both Jarrod and the hit man. He stood for a moment, looking around, alarmed. In a moment Nick was beside him, and he was startled too. He couldn't see his brother or the hit man anywhere.
"Where are they?" Nick asked quickly.
The cop looked at him, not knowing who he was.
"I'm his brother," Nick said urgently. "Where are they?"
The cop sighed and shook his head. "I don't know."