Ch. 51
The beginning of the day's legwork started at the Suzanne Roberts Theatre. Val was experiencing a bad case of the butterflies and they flitted merrily around in her stomach as she and Dante entered the lobby of the massive theater. Taking in the vastness of the lobby with its pink, fuchsia and purple carpets with various works of art on the walls, she gathered her courage and approached the lobby desk. With a broad smile, the woman behind the desk asked, "May I help you?" Val cast a quick glance at Dante, who urged her on with an encouraging nod and then she replied, "I hope so. I have a couple of pictures here"—she placed the pictures on the counter desk—"and I was hoping to get a bit of information from anyone here who might know the man in them or remember the club where these pictures were taken." The woman took the pictures and looked at them briefly before stating, "I'm not sure I'm the one who can help. I've only been here for a few years. Let me find Myra for you—she's our walking history book around here." She picked up the phone and called somewhere within the theater and it was only a moment when an older woman, the presumed Myra, walked up to them with a somewhat puzzled smile. "I'm Myra. I understand you have some pictures you'd like for me to look at?"
"Nice to meet you, Myra. I'm Val and this is Dante. Yes, we'd like any information you might be able to give us on the man in this picture or about Pep's Musical Bar itself." Val handed the pictures to Myra, who looked intently at them with a frown of concentration. "Why are you trying to find this man, if I may ask?" Val slightly panicked expression when she caught Dante's eye caused him to smoothly explain, "We're police officers from Port Charles, New York. We wanted to question this man for information he might have in conjunction with a case we're currently working." He flashed his badge at her and she nodded in understanding. "Something about his face does seem familiar but I'm sorry, I can't really help you." Val couldn't hide the disappointment on her face as she told Myra, "That's ok—it was a longshot at best, anyway. Thanks for your time."
They were leaving the theater when Val turned to Dante and asked, "Why did you make up that story about why we wanted to find Virgil?" "I think I read the expression on your face and made a spot decision. It's hard to explain to strangers that the man in the picture might be your father and you're trying to find him. It's also not really anyone else's business. A cover story works, protects your privacy and still gets the job done."
"Thank you for thinking of that."
"That's why I'm here, Angel. What's next on the agenda?"
There's an instrument shop around here somewhere that I wanted to check out. I thought since the picture was actually taken in a club, maybe Virgil is connected to music somehow. Musicians need instruments, so…"
"Sounds good. Let's see what we can find out." They walked a ways up South Broad Street from the Suzanne Roberts Theatre to Frederick W. Oster Fine Violins. Dante dubiously gazed up at the four-story building and queried, "Are you sure this is the right place? It looks more like an old house than an instrument shop." "This is the place, all right. Haven't you noticed that a lot of these stores and shops are old houses that have been converted? Isn't it the same way in older parts of New York?"
"That's true—you're right. It's just amazing that if you hadn't told me this was the place we were looking for, I'd have walked right past it." They set off an old-fashioned tinkling bell when they entered the shop and momentarily, an older gentleman moved from the back of the shop to join them. "Good morning. May I help you two find something?" This time Dante took the point on the questioning and he told the shop's owner, "We hope so. We're looking for information concerning a case we're working." He showed his badge to the man and further stated, "We have a couple of pictures we'd like you to take a look at, if you don't mind." He gestured for Val to hand the pictures to the older man as he went on, "We realize that the club in the pictures doesn't exist anymore but we were thinking that since your shop has been here for so many years, you might remember something about it or the man in this picture. Were you here when Pep's Musical Bar was open?"
Staring at the pictures in his hand he replied, "I'm afraid not, young man. Even though our business has been around for over thirty years, we've only been in this location since 2008. Surely Pep's was closed down by then, I believe. A long time ago there were a lot of jazz clubs along this street but most of them are gone now."
"Do you remember anything about the club itself?"
"That was before even my time," the man chuckled ruefully before going on, "You would have wanted to speak to my father, but it's a long time since he left us. Yes, he knew all the musicians and club owners back then. My tastes tend to lean toward the classical but my father just loved good music of all kinds. I'm really sorry I can't be of more help, though. Have you gone to the Senior Center next door? There might be someone there who can answer your questions." He included Val in his regretful smile.
"That's our next stop, actually. Thank you so much, sir, for taking the time to talk with us," she told him.
"You're very welcome, young lady. I wish I could have been more helpful to you both. If you're ever in the market for a violin or a bass, come back and see us." He walked them to the front door and with a wave, watched them make their way to the Philadelphia Senior Center.
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As they walked the few feet from the violin shop to the Senior Center, Dante spontaneously grabbed Val's hand and began swinging it, giving her a pleased smile as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Smiling broadly back at him she asked, "What?" "Nothing really. I thought you'd be really bummed out and frustrated by now but you're still engaged and you're still smiling. I'm proud of you, baby."
Laughing, she remarked, "I knew we were in for a long haul when nothing was open on Saturday. We had a lazy day yesterday and I think that rejuvenated me. Of course the massage I got from Kevin the hotel masseuse didn't hurt, either." His smile faltering a little, Dante told her, "Listen, Missy. I think the less said about 'Kevin', the better. I might have mentioned my inner caveman?" "Once or twice." "Yeah, well, maybe you need to be getting your massages from my hands from now on."
"I don't know—someone like Kevin actually went to school to learn how to do what he does. He learned well, too. His hands were magic." He pulled her to a stop before she could reach for the door of the senior center. "Are you messin' with me right now?"
"Maybe a little bit. I like seeing your 'inner caveman'. But it wasn't a lie that he had magic hands. If you can bring it like he did, you've got my business from now on." "After the walkin' we'll end up doin' today, his 'good work' will all be undone, anyway. We get back to our room and I'll give you the massage of a lifetime."
Val leaned into Dante and whispered into his ear, "Well, no matter how magic his hands were, yours are the only ones I really want roaming all over my body. We should stop somewhere and get some oil, really make a night of it."
"I've already got the oil. You're in for a treat." "You had oil with you? Why didn't you give me the massage-" "Good things come to those who wait," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Simply shaking her head, Val reached for the door again when Dante stopped her, saying, "I know you're liberated and all but it's ok to let me be a gentleman sometimes. I'LL get the door, if you don't mind." Moving aside, she grandly gestured at the door, which Dante responded to by opening the door with a flourish. "After you, my lady." "Thank you, kind sir," she responded.
Val's spirits were even more renewed when she took in the bright, open floor plan of the senior center. Looking around at the varying ages of the people enjoying the services of the center, most of whom seemed happy and contented, made her smile grow. Dante noticed the huge grin on her face and he couldn't help responding with a grin of his own as he wondered, "What's caused that look?" She nodded and continued gazing around the large room, murmuring, "This place has a good feel. I like it. It feels like something good is going to happen here." While she was speaking, one of the staff members of the center came up to them with an engaging smile of her own. "Hello and welcome to the Philadelphia Senior Center on the Avenue of the Arts! I'm Jennifer! Are you looking for services for a loved one?" "No, actually, Jennifer, we're police officers from New York after some information on a case we're working. We're hoping that some of the seniors here might have some knowledge that will be helpful."
"We have some of the best and brightest seniors in Philadelphia here! If anyone can assist you, they can! What can I do to help?"
Dante and Val exchanged amused glances. "We appreciate your enthusiasm, Jennifer. If we could just randomly mingle with some of the people and ask our questions, that'd be great."
"As long as they don't get upset by your questions, go ahead—mingle! And if you need any more help from me, just call out 'Jennifer!' and I'll come right away! She flashed them another sunny smile and then walked away to greet another couple who entered the center's lobby. They overheard her greeting and Dante questioned, "I wonder if she has to say that mouthful all day to everyone who comes in here?" "Probably so, since it seemed to flow out naturally. She's definitely bubbly, isn't she? But then her personality no doubt helps her keep the spirits of the elderly up. I can't imagine being that perky all day!"
"She totally had an 'Energizer bunny' thing going on, didn't she? Hey, whatever works. How do you want to handle this?" he finished, refocusing on the business at hand. "I'm not sure," Val answered uncertainly. She perused the room again with a frown. Sensing her hesitation, he posed, "We can either each take a picture and work the room or we can canvas together. What sounds better to you?" Narrowing her eyes, she returned his stare and then asked, "You're leaving it up to me?" "Of course I am, Angel. This is your investigation so you decide how we go forward. I'm only here for back up. Now I think we could cover more ground if we split up but we don't have to do that. Whatever you want to do is what we'll do." Val hesitated for only a moment before deciding, "Let's split up. You're right—we could cover more ground that way." She caught his approving nod and as she handed him one of the pictures of her mother and Virgil she asked, "Did I make the right decision?" "Yeah, you did. Now put on your cop hat and don't think like a curious daughter. Don't forget—you need patience for this kind of hunt, ok? Don't get frustrated, here, Val, just work the case."
"Gotcha. Let's do it." They separated and began questioning the various seniors engaged in differing activities around the center. Over and over they explained who they were and asked the same things—"Do you know this man?" "Can you tell me anything about Pep's Musical Bar?" "Were you in Philadelphia when Pep's Musical Bar was open?"
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It was moving into the afternoon when Dante finally hit pay dirt. Going out into the courtyard, he watched two old codgers arguing back and forth over a game of checkers. Laughing inwardly at the insults they were throwing one another, he asked aloud, "Isn't it a little bit cold for you guys to be out here playing checkers?" They looked up from the checker board to regard him standing there. The older of the two, Harold, wondered with a sneer, "What're you, the health police?"
"You missed on the 'health' part but the cop part you hit perfectly." He stood there and waited for his words to register with them and when they did, the younger man, Jeremiah, told him, "Hey, he didn't mean no disrespect." Harold grumbled, "Speak for yourself—I meant what I said! You think I'm too stupid not to know when to come out the cold?"
"Not at all, sir," Dante responded, going on, "It was just an observation owing to the coolness of the air today."
"A little cold never killed nobody," Harold asserted, which made his friend give him a frowning glare as he countered, "Whatchu talkin' about, foo'? Cold's killed a lot of people! You always sayin' somethin' dumb when you tryna be clever." Addressing Dante, he queried, "You got somethin' you wanted to know?"
"I do, actually. Do either of you happen to remember Pep's Musical Bar? It was a jazz club back in the day, not too far from here."
Jeremiah grinned as he cast his mind back, "Yeah, man, I 'member it! Joint was always jumpin'! Some of the best acts in the biz played at Pep's. Why you wanna know, though?" Showing them the picture he had of Virgil and Patricia, he explained, "I'm looking for information about the man in this photo. From the little bit I know currently, they used to spend time there." They passed the picture between them as Harold mumbled, "Pep's's been closed for years. You ain't gonna find too many of us ol' heads who 'member it." Dante nodded in agreement and stated, "I know, which is why I thought of coming here. I figured I had a better chance of finding someone here who might remember it than anywhere else, since it used to be close by. What can you tell me about it?"
Jeremiah tilted his face toward the sky with his eyes tightly closed. "All the best acts came through. New acts with known names—they all blew there. Don't recall a lot of White folks bein' there but there were a few who 'preciated good music that stopped by. Sure there were probally a few reg'lars. He does look kinda familiar, though. Not sure why. He reminds me-" Harold interrupted him in the middle of his musings, exclaiming, "Hold up! Lemme see that again." He almost snatched the picture from Dante's hand and gave it another hard examination. His face brightened as clarity came to him and he said, "Yeah, that's what I thought! That's what was buggin' me 'bout this picture! That ain't Pep's. Don't know why that's written on there but that ain't Pep's. That's the Clef."
"The Clef? Man, you blind! That ain't the Clef!" "Not the new one, the ol' one, foo'. The Clef from back in the day. All I know is the club in this picture ain't Pep's."
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Val entered the courtyard just in time to hear Harold's assertion that the club in the picture he was looking at wasn't Pep's Musical Bar and her heart sank. She had been hoping Dante was having better luck than she'd had. She had met some very nice people, none of whom could help with her search. She came nearer as Dante affirmed, "But you said there's a new Clef Club, right? Is it still in this area?"
"Man, it's right down the street a few blocks from here. It's got a fancier name now but it's the Clef all right," Harold insisted emphatically. Once she had reached Dante's side he said, "Hey, Angel. These guys-" he broke off and waited for them to introduce themselves. "Harold," Harold grumbled, pointing at his chest. "Jeremiah," Jeremiah said. "-might have some information for us." Smiling at Val in appreciation, Jeremiah asked, "You with him, pretty girl?"
"Yeah, I'm with him. Are you absolutely sure the club in this picture isn't Pep's?" "Now here come another one who think I'm senile-" "No, sir, not at all," Val interrupted him to declare, going on, "It's just weird…" "It might be weird but I know what I know. Go down to the Clef. You'll see. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout."
Dante soothed Harold's ruffled feathers by saying, "I don't doubt it for a minute. Thanks, Harold. You too, Jeremiah. You've both been a great help to our investigation. You've given us our first solid lead." Val added her thanks to Dante's. They left the two men arguing again, this time about the best jazz clubs in town and waved at Jennifer in the lobby as they made their way back to the street. Pulling up the Internet on her phone, Val slowly read, "The Philadelphia Clef Club of Jazz & Performing Arts, located at 738 S Broad Street. That's just a few blocks from here! I told you I had a good feeling about this place!"
"You were right, baby. Now we can go ahead to the Clef Club, or we can try to find some lunch. What do you wanna do?" She gave him an unknowingly pleading look as she answered, "Are you very hungry? I really want to go on to the club, especially since they're open now." Shaking his head, he replied, "I can wait. It's a good thing I had such a big breakfast, though, isn't it?
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Valerie felt as though she was on the cusp of something momentous after she and Dante entered the performing arts center. There was no way to explain why she felt this way but she KNEW something good was going to come from whatever they found out at this place. It was this excited realization that propelled her forward and caused her to forget Dante's admonishment about letting him be a gentleman who opens doors for her. He caught the wave of her palpable excitement and his own heart rate accelerated.
In the small foyer they waited in line to be serviced. When their turn to be helped came, the man behind the glass partition asked, "Can I help you folks?" Stepping forward, Val responded, "We sure hope so! We just left the senior center where we were told that the people in this photograph aren't at Pep's Musical Bar, as we'd previously supposed, but instead were at the Clef Club, the old Clef Club. We were hoping to verify that, as well as get any additional information anyone could share." After receiving a concerned, somewhat searching gaze from the man, Dante added, "We're police officers from New York following up on a lead for one of our cases." He showed the man his badge. Laughing sheepishly, Val apologized, saying, "I'm sorry—I got ahead of myself! I should have explained from the beginning…"
"No problem. Let me see what you've got there," he replied as he reached for the picture. Studying it for a few moments, he finally said, "This does look like the old Clef Club. I'm not positive—I wasn't around then. Let me try to find a couple of our directors. They'd be more assistance than I would." A woman walked into the small office as he was speaking and he turned to her, asking, "Hey, Carla, have you seen Mr. Hinds or Mr. Gardner? These folks are looking for some help with a criminal case." Choosing not to correct him, Dante waited for Carla to answer, "I think they're just finishing up with a meeting. Want me to try to chase them down?"
"If you could, please." She disappeared down the hall. Into the silence, Dante stated, "We really appreciate your help." "Yes," Val added, echoing Dante's thankfulness, "I have a feeling we're going to get some good news here, so thank you so much for your time."
"That's why I'm here. Oh, here they are. This is Mr. Gardner, our Executive Director, and Mr. Hines, our Artistic Director. These folks are from New York. They're police officers investigating a case and they're hoping we can help them with information." "Let's go back into my office," Mr. Gardner told them. He led them down the corridor to his office, closing the door behind them. "Now," he continued, "Tell us how we can help." Leaning forward in the offered chair across from the director's desk, Val explained, "We were told that the club in this picture is the old Clef Club, not Pep's Musical Bar, even though, for some reason, 'Pep's' is mentioned on the back." Mr. Gardner turned the photo over and nodded as he read what was written there. She went on, "We're mostly interested in the man in the photo." Mr. Gardner confirmed, "This is a picture of the old club. You see, the club itself has been in existence since the '60s but we moved to this facility in the '80s. This might be one of the last pictures taken in the old club. The man, though—he does seem familiar. What do you think, Lovett?" he asked the artistic director after handing him the photo. "He's got one of those faces, doesn't he, one you swear you recognize. Hmm. I know him. He's younger in this picture, but I'm pretty sure we know him. That dreadlocked hair…" The answer seemed to come to them both at the same time as Mr. Hines exclaimed, "The Professor!" Snapping his fingers, Mr. Gardner nodded in agreement.
"The Professor?"
"Yeah. He was a young guy back then, just starting out at Temple University. Teaching English, I think. Yeah. Very well spoken even then—he had a poetic way of talking. I don't recognize the woman but the Professor still comes into the club every few months or so. It's been a while since we've seen him. If I'm not mistaken, he's still out at Temple. Virgil, Virgil-" He was stuck on Virgil's last name, something Mr. Gardner was able to supply after a brief computer search. "Virgil Mc Cullom. Professor Virgil Mc Cullom." The two men high-fived one another in celebration and then turned to Dante and Val expectantly. When Val didn't speak, Dante offered, "We couldn't have asked for more help. That you actually came up with a name is phenomenal. We can't thank you both enough." "Hey, I'm just glad that the old brain cells came through! You're both very welcome."
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Standing on the sidewalk outside the grey building, Dante observed a silent Val, who appeared shell-shocked by the news they had heard. In the nick of time he prevented her from getting into the wrong rental car by grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. "You ok, Angel?" he queried worriedly, staring into her eyes with concern.
Let's go eat," she replied. When she moved again toward the car, she was once again stopped. "Talk to me, Angel. Tell me what you're thinking."
"I'm scared, Dante."
"Ok, I get that, but this is a good thing, Val. It's the reason we came. We've got a name and a direction. More than likely, we've got HIM. This is what we wanted, baby."
"You're right. I know you're right. But let's go eat. I'm suddenly hungry. And I need a stiff something or other to go with it."
"A little early in the day for that, isn't it?"
It's five o'clock somewhere. Come on," she insisted, pushing him toward their rental car, adding, "I need a drink."
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