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©Copyright 2004 Dione Coumbe.

25. Before the Fall, New York, February

             The Atlantic crossing was excruciating, Albert hadn’t been joking. He’d booked her onto a cargo vessel and the accommodation was Spartan and cramped. The heaving winter seas drove her into the narrow bunk with frequent bouts of sickness. She longed to disembark and stand on a surface which didn’t move and discover what had gone so terribly wrong. What could be so important it demanded her presence from across the world? It was useless cabling either Lazarus or Capeto, they’d never compromise themselves by putting anything worth reading in a telegram.

            When the ship docked, Dathan’s first thought was to find an obscure bed and die quietly. She hailed a taxi and asked the driver to take her to any decent hotel close to Central Park. She’d marshal her strength and find out what was happening.

            The room was clean and the bed stayed in one place. Without stripping Dathan slept until the following afternoon. The newspapers sent from the front desk gave her the date. She picked up the telephone, “Nat, it’s Dathan.”

“Where are you?” Nat’s disembodied voice showed his concern.

“New York.”

He was surprised, “I thought you’d be away another month.”

“I had a cable from Lazarus,” she explained, “what’s happening?”

Dathan heard him light a cigarette, “I know Capeto’s being investigated by the Crime Commission. The Chief Prosecutor is breathing down his neck looking for political nous, but that’s all.” He was answered by silence, “Dathan, you there?”

“Yes,” she’d been thinking furiously for the past minute, “Can’t he buy his way out?”

Nat was offended, ”Dathan how the hell would I know, I don’t move in those circles and I’m not your friend Lazarus.

”Sorry Nat, can you do me a favour?”

His voice was wary, “Depends on what it is.”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m back, “ she said, “it’ll give me a breathing space.”

“You have it.”

            She chose her dress carefully for the evening. She’d intended to wear it during her aborted trip to Berlin. Of scarlet velvet it hung straight to the floor from the shoulders with long, flared sleeves. The back was softly pleated and billowed out as she walked forming a small train. She piled her hair into a chignon and pinned in diamond pendant earrings, a gift from Capeto. Shrugging a white fur wrap around her shoulders she ordered a taxi and left for the Casimir Club.

            During the day Dathan had thought through everything between herself, Gregory and Lazarus. It’d left her unsure of how to deal with the present situation. Would it affect her business? What would happen to Capeto if the District Attorney was successful? She resolved to be as calm and unemotional as she knew how. Not to allow either David or Gregory to gauge her thoughts. That’d give her time to decide what was best for herself and those who depended on her.

            Lazarus was idling by one of the roulette tables when she entered the gaming room. He was moodily watching the wheel spin around lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t see her. Richard their other partner, did. He cut short his conversation with a punter, excused himself and jauntily ambled towards her, “Dathan, beautiful as ever, you looking for Gregory?”

Dathan shook hands with him, “Good evening Richard, thanks for the flattery, is he here?”

He released his hand and gestured right, “In the restaurant with Lou.”

            She gave him a brief smile then glided to the other end of the room ignoring the gamesters and noisy chatter. It’d been five weeks since she’d seen Capeto and despite her earlier resolutions, her already delicate stomach was fluttering with nerves. What if he no longer felt the same about her?

            A waiter noticed her nearing the glass paneled restaurant doors and swung them open. She paused and scanned the tables. He touched her arm and she started, exposing her tension, then relaxed when he pointed towards a table near the stage.

            Lou saw her first, then Gregory. His eyes widened in astonishment, lips parting in a delighted smile. He met her halfway across the room and took both her hands in his, squeezed them and ushered her from the room past the astonished gaze of David to his office.

            Shutting the door behind them, he locked it and took her in his arms. She felt the longing in his kiss and the familiar surge of desire. It felt good to be with him again. Needed. Loved. They were breathless when they parted. His eyes were closed as he held her, “I’ve missed you,” he said, “thank God you’re back, but why so soon?”

“My business was ended sooner than expected.”

“Did you get everything done you wanted, were you satisfied?” he asked.

“With business yes, without you no. I wanted you so much, I never knew it was possible to feel like this about anyone.

            Capeto sighed, he had to take her now, dismiss the self-disciplined celibacy of the past few weeks and to hell with what anyone thought in the club.  They lay together naked on the leather covered couch, rediscovering each other, exquisitely tender caresses, the waves of desire, oblivious to anything but themselves. Mellow they rested in each other’s arms. Resenting the need to break this contentment, Dathan sighed and asked gently, “What’s happening?”

Capeto didn’t answer he for a moment. He didn’t want to get back in step with his world but then reached for his clothes, “The Chief Prosecutor, have you heard of him?”

“A little,” Dathan admitted watching him dress.

“He’s determined to put me away.”

Dathan sat up, alarmed, “Can he do that?”

Gregory pulled on his socks, “He can’t find any evidence at the moment to prove his case because I’m innocent.” He smiled at her, “I’ve never been a pimp.”

“But if there’s no proof?” Dathan shrugged.

“There can’t be, but that won’t stop him. He’s a political climber and he’s trying to earn a well heeled retirement in a few years.”

Dathan was outraged, “How can he get away with that?”

“Bribed witnesses, forged papers, it’s not too difficult,” Capeto said putting on his waistcoat, “you’d better get dressed.”

Dathan stood, “Can’t you prove he’s building a false case?”

“No, I’d have to produce other evidence which could incriminate me. They’d indict me on other charges which would drag in David and Richard.”

“Can’t he be paid off?” Dathan was puzzled.

Gregory pulled her dress over her head and put his hands on her shoulders, “Cara, if it were just a question of cash there’d be no problem. This one’s a power freak and I can’t fill his kind of need.”

            Dathan felt numbed as she thought of what a long separation could do to them. With cold hands she finishing dressing and repinning her hair. Gregory had poured some wine when they heard the door handle turn. He unlocked it, admitting David.            The scent of sex hung heavily on the warm air, but Lazarus said nothing. He’d expected it. Gregory was making some final adjustments to his collar, “What is it David?”

“There’s two of the D.A.’s men watching the building, do we invite them for a drink? We’ve already rolled up the casino.”

Capeto shook his head, “No, he’s trying to make us nervous, next thing you know we’ll be accused of bribing them. Dathan’d better leave through the back door, she musn’t be involved in this.” His voice encouraged no argument.

“Even my brother in England’s received press cuttings about us Gregory, do you really think it matters now?

“If the D. A.’s successful it could affect your business, you don’t need his kind of witnesses hanging around.”

David assured her, “He’s right Dathan.”

She knew they were, better to move on, “Gregory could you have someone collect the luggage from my hotel and move it to the Waldorf,” she groped in her evening bag for her room key with the hotel’s address on it.

“My suite?”

She shook her head, “No, tomorrow I’m looking for an apartment of my own, my rooms on Tenth are needed for the business.”

Lazarus suggested, “Why not buy a place out at Scarsdale, it’s a good area?”

“Too far out David, too much wasted time travelling.”

Still trying to be helpful he offered, “Shall I have a realty guy call on you?”

“Thanks I’d appreciate that.”

Gregory asked, keeping his voice even, “So you’re putting down roots?”

Intent on keeping him guessing and remembering her earlier intentions she answered, “For the duration darling,” and smiled faintly.

“I’ve another suggestion Dathan,” David poured himself a drink. “Whilst you were away I bought a building on Fifth for the Dathan Charles Fashion Collection. I intend it to be ready for the opening and switch the venue from the Waldorf.”

Dathan stared at him, “So?”

“The top floor could easily convert to a penthouse suite. It has one elevator to the floor below, so would be totally secure.”

Dathan paused for a moment struck by his use of the word ‘secure’, “Sounds good, very convenient. When can I see it?”

“Later this morning if you want, I can arrange it.”

She nodded, “I’ll find Victor Jablowski and bring him along.”

Lazarus knew she’d suggest him but made a pretence his feelings were hurt, “Why Victor, why not one of our construction companies?”

Dathan thought he was actually semi serious, “Victor’s a friend, so’s his uncle. He needs the work and your people I guess, are doing alright.”

“Was that the old guy who was with you the first time I came to your salon?” Gregory asked.

“Yes, he gave me the upright piano I was playing. He’s been my friend since the day we met.”

“I understand,” he smiled at her, “Victor Jablowski it is.”

She sighed, “So we agree on something at last! Can I use the ‘phone?”

“Sure,” he replied wondering who she was going to call at this time of night.

"I'll go see our happy clients," David said, leaving them alone.

Gregory watched Dathan arrange herself behind the vast ocean of his desk. She dialed a number, “Guten abend!”

“Dathan do you know what time it is, where are you?” Rudi spluttered, waking up.

“Which question do you want answered first?” She heard him tut with annoyance and said, “I’m at the Casimir.”

“You couldn’t have gone to Germany?” he was disappointed.

“No.”

“Are you in trouble Dathan, is there something I can do?”

Dear God, Dathan thought, I’ve hurt and let him down and he asks if there’s something he can do for me. Dathan felt her eyes prick with tears, “No, there’s nothing.”

“I think I understand, can we meet?”

“At five this evening, at my salon.”

“Fine, are you sure you’re alright, you sound upset?” She could hear his concern in his voice.

“Yes, see you tomorrow, good night Rudi.”

            Temporarily, Dathan had forgotten Gregory Capeto. He observed her strange expression as she replaced the receiver. He’d never caught her in such an unguarded moment before or seen deep harrowing sadness in her eyes, beyond his understanding. He wanted to say something but knew at that moment it would be an intrusion. Getting to his feet he broke her mood, “I didn’t know you spoke German, do you speak Italian too?”

“A little,” she shrugged, “enough to scratch by, there’s not much use for operatic quotations is there?”

“You’re so deep Dathan,” he said, “as long as I live I’ll never discover everything there is to know about you.”

She smiled, “So you’ve an occupation for life my darling. Do you mind if I leave now?”

“I’ll have Lou drive you to the Waldorf and book you in, wait here.”

            Whilst she waited Dathan scrutinised the room. Some of the sketches she’d made and discarded had been framed and arranged in a group on one of the walls. On another was one of her paintings left in a pile of canvasses in the salon. It was entitled ‘New York Streets’ in the style of Picasso’s Blue Period. What a nerve to take them while she was away. She had nothing personal of his at all, whilst he’d stolen part of her soul. The piano, jewellery, beautiful object d’art so carefully chosen to appeal to her tastes were important, but they’d never been part of his imagination, his essence.

            She was retouching her hair when Gregory arrived with Lou. Dathan liked Lou, he was always a perfect gentleman in her presence although reputably he was Gregory’s executioner. She found that difficult to believe.  He smiled and wished her good morning and she asked after his wife and family. Lou was delighted when she told him she’d kept her promise and brought his wife some tweed from England.

            They left together, Lou guiding her across the mezzanine, through another office and down a fire escape. They carefully picked their way through the garbage cans in the alley, avoiding rats and alcoholics. A car waited at the back of the building, blackly shining. Dathan grasped the handle to the front near side door, “Can I sit in the front with you for a change?”

He closed the door and opened the one behind, “Don Capeto won’t like that Signorina, it’s safer in the back.”

Dathan was amused, “Lou,” she said, “I’d like to see where I’m going.”

“Signorina if you don’t know that, no one else can help you.”

“A philosopher, no less. Don’t ruin a beautiful friendship!” She got in the back seat.

“Signorina Dathan, if anything happened to you Don Capeto would kill me.”

She looked up through the open door, “You’re not joking are you Lou.”

“No signorina, he said quietly, “I’m not.”

 26. Murder

            At nine she was sitting in the restaurant having a light breakfast when David’s chauffeur Jacob arrived to drive her to Fifth Avenue. Dathan was staggered by the size of David’s investment. It soared high into the sky. Sitting in the car she counted twenty-eight stories then climbed out. It was clear the enigmatic David had more than a clothes shop in mind.

            Jacob had the keys and waited whilst Dathan walked around examining the twenty thousand square feet of the ground floor. A series of elevators took them to the penthouse. She took a note pad and measure from her pocket and started work with Jacob’s help. If he objected to the requests to lift the measure, take it here, take it there, it didn’t show.

            She quickly sketched a layout and her needs. Two baths, four beds, dressing and dining rooms, kitchen, a spacious lounge, a studio and two more rooms for a housekeeper and maid. A good morning’s work, she was pleased.

            Earlier from her hotel room she’d tracked Victor down to a building site across town and Jacob was on loan to her for the whole day. She handed him the address and he winced. Dathan missed his expression whilst getting the car. He eased the vehicle into the traffic trying to keep a watchful eye in all directions. Did his passenger know they’d be driving through what was to him, forbidden territory?  Rivals were in control of this part of the City. They skirted Central Park moving northeast and arrived at the site without incident. Later he heard no one would risk killing Dathan and a massacre caused by the wrath of Gregory Capeto.

            Dathan carefully picked her way across the rubble of the demolition site to the stocky form of Victor Jablowski. He was arguing fiercely with a tow headed Irishman. Catching sight of her he waved the man away angrily and put out his hand, glad of the respite, “Hey Dathan, does my uncle know you’re back? I thought you’d be away longer?”

She shook her head and shook his hand, “Good to see you Victor. I arrived yesterday, how is he?”

He shrugged, “Getting older, but aren’t we all.”

Dathan’s grin acknowledged this, “Tell him I hope to see him on Tuesday as usual.”

“I’ll do that,” he said rubbing his hands together, “now what can I do for you?”

“I’m leaving Tenth Street Victor,” she began then seeing his reaction added hastily, “not the business, just me, my rooms are needed.”

“No problem,” he said, “I can fix you up easily.”

She put her hand on his arm, “Thanks, I’ve already got premises but they need a little work.”

Victor said suspiciously, “You’re goin’ to do it to me again, aren’t you?”

Dathan grinned, “I’ll make it worth your while and there could be more if I can persuade David Lazarus to go along.”

“Let me see the drawings?” he asked with the resignation of capitulation. He leafed through the notebook she gave him for a few minutes, “I’ll need at least four months, it’s an old building and I bet the penthouse leaks like a sieve.”

“I’ve seen much worse,” she told him, “it shouldn’t take much to put right.”

He glanced at her, “Let’s cut to the chase, you tell me how long it’s going to take.”

“A month?”

He shook his head, “Impossible,” he exploded, “I don’t have the men.”

“Get them!”

He thought for a moment, “What about this place?” he said aloud.

“What are you worrying about?” she asked him, “You agree a month and I’ll treble your estimate, you can carry both then. Or....” she added, “if you want to cut me in as a partner, I’ll match you share for share. That’d cover the pay roll.”

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Yes. Here’s the deal. You run the company, I’ll handle the finance and legal stuff.”

“It’d take a lot of aggravation off my hands that’s for sure, I waste more time on paperwork for the City Council or the government than anything else.”

“I’ve got the best working for me, it’ll be a thing of the past.”

“What about Lazarus, you’re in bed with him on Dathan Charles Fashions?”

Dathan was taken aback, she hadn’t known rumours were running around the streets, she said, “That’s true, but he’s nothing to do with my offer. That’s between ourselves and I’d appreciate no one else knowing about any agreement we make. Nat Buchan, my lawyer, will float a company and my name won’t appear anywhere.”

“Let me think about it,” he said, “I’ll get back to you. What’s the rush on the building at Fifth?”

“Dathan Charles Fashion Collection will open there in a month. Lazarus is using his own people to refurbish the ground floor.”

“What about the workshop on Tenth, are you going to keep it?”

Dathan nodded, “Yes Victor, we agreed seven years. Even if it’s moved uptown the space’ll be needed for storage.” She looked at her watch, “I have to go, I’ve a meeting at five at the salon.” He looked through her drawings again, half listening as she patted his arm, “I’ll have Jacob copy the keys and dropped into your office tomorrow.”

He glanced up, “Fine where can I find you?”

“Tenth during the day, the Waldorf at night.”

He whistled, “The Waldorf, my uncle did good offering you tea.”

Dathan said quietly, “He offered more than that, I never had a friend like him before.”

Victor squeezed her arm, touched by her sincerity, “Will you be at Tenth during the construction?”

“I’ll only come to Fifth if there’s a problem,” she said laughing at his obvious relief and hailing Jacob.

“Where to?” he asked, hoping it was as far as way from here as possible.

“My salon, can you step on the gas?”

“I’ll try, what’s the rush?”

“An appointment at five.”

“You should be so lucky, it’s twenty to.”

            The staff were surprised and delighted when she strolled through the shop. Amid the greetings, banter and laughter Marie caught her eye and gestured towards her office. Casually she extricated herself and caught up with her secretary, “What’s up?”

“Mr. Capeto’s been trying to contact you.”

“How long ago did he call?” wondering what could be so urgent.

“About noon,” Marie said tersely.

“You look worried, there’s more?”

“Have you seen a ‘paper today?”

“No, I’ve been too busy.” Dathan wished Marie would get to the point.

“Richard Dooley was shot to death outside the Casimir Club this morning.”

Dathan sagged and sat heavily on Marie’s chair, “I was there myself until about three and the place was being watched by the D.A.’s men, how could it’ve happened?”

Marie looked at her thoughtfully, “I don’t think it’d be wise to speculate about that,” she advised, “it happened about five thirty as he was leaving the Club.”

No wonder Jacob had been edgy all day, “Can you try to find Gregory, he’s probably at the Waldorf.”

“There’s something else,” Marie was relentless with her news. Dathan lifted her eyebrows expectantly, “Rudi Stein is waiting for you in the salon, so you’d better take the call here.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Browsing through the stack of paintings you left to be framed.”

Dathan removed her coat, “Tell him I’ll be with him in a few minutes and give him a glass of wine or whatever he wants and I’ll get Gregory myself.”

            She sat at the desk thinking about what to say to Capeto. Richard Dooley had grown up on the streets with David and Gregory. Whilst she regarded Richard as an amiable psychopath, Gregory was genuinely attached to him and he was a partner in the Casimir Club. The telephone rang before she could dial out. Distractedly she lifted the receiver still lost in thought.

“Marie, it’s Capeto, is Dathan there yet?”

“Hello darling, I’m sorry about Richard, I’ve just arrived and heard about it.”

“Yes,” he said shortly, “are you alright?”

“Jacob took good care of me, what arrangements are you making for Richard?”

“The Medical Examiner has the body, it’ll probably be released in about three days.”

“Claire and the children?”

“Staying with Judith and David.”

“What about you Gregory?” Dathan asked, “Are you safe?”

He didn’t answer her directly, “We think it’s a grudge killing involving only Richard but it’s strange the D.A.’s men faded about that time.”

Dathan said angrily, “You think! Don’t you know?”

“We will soon,” he soothed her.

“Gregory, this is so...” she put the receiver down, speechless, temper flaring in her eyes. “Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered rising and going to the salon.

Rudi saluted her, “Dathan your work improves all the time,” he said approvingly.

“Thanks,” she said thickly.

“Have you a cold?” he asked.

“No Rudi, how’re you?” she changed the subject.

“Busy, busy, busy,” he said rubbing his hands, “I’ve gone into partnership with Marty.”

She smiled, regaining control, “I’m very pleased for you. No beard either, it’s good to see your face again.”

He walked towards her, “What’s happened Dathan?”

“I don’t want you involved,” she said emphatically.

He gestured with one hand, “You mean it’s Capeto.”

She sat on one of the easy chairs, “Why did you send those cuttings to Stephen and give him your opinion of Gregory?”

“I didn’t know it was a state secret,” he said, “and I’ve always thought and told you, he’s bad news.”

“You don’t know him Rudi.”

“Does anyone with any sense want to. Have you heard about last night yet?”

“Yes,” Dathan said wearily, Richard Dooley’s dead. Well he was no loss to the community, there we’d agree.”

Rudi leaned over her, “How long do you think it’ll be before Capeto’s enemies realise they can attack him through you?”

Dathan exploded, “You’ve a goddamn nerve Rudi! You ask me to risk going to Germany then warn me about danger here. I presume you’re joking?”

“You’d be safer with that lunatic Heydrich!”

She stood, furious with him, “Don’t ever tell me what to do with my life, you don’t have the right, no one does,” she was shaking with rage.

“For God’s sake Dathan, what’s got into you?” Rudi had never seen her lose her temper before.

She threw her head back, took a deep breath, counted to ten and felt her anger go, “I’m sorry Rudi, I’ll be returning to England as soon as possible. I’ll keep my word, I know time’s running out.”

“I understand Dathan,” he said soothingly.

Dathan sat again, “Not in a thousand years could you ever understand Rudi so please don’t patronise me.”

He reddened and looked at the floor, “You believe war with Germany will come?”

“Yes. Sebastian keeps writing to Edward and pressing him to get any information he can. It may achieve something.”

“You think so,” he showed his doubt.

She shared it, “He can’t pursue this officially because your parents aren’t British citizens. He’d contravene Foreign Office policy. He may also jeopardise your parents by drawing attention to them.”

“I wish I could go myself,” he said.

“Why don’t you,” Dathan felt bone weary.

“Do I look like a Viking warrior?” he asked her.

“Hardly,” Dathan agreed and smiled.

“So how far would I get, how long would I last and if they’re in trouble my reappearance would make things worse.” What he said was true. Rudi was a peace loving gentle man without any aggressive imaginative resources outside his art at all. The first time he ran into trouble would be the last. “Will you dine with me tonight?” he asked

“Thanks but I’m very tired.” The dark shadows beneath her eyes testified to that.

“Are you staying here?”

“No, at the Waldorf. This room is needed for more machines.”

“So, I’ll see you next week?”

“Do that Rudi,” she kissed his cheek as he leaned over her, “we’ve been through a lot together, we mustn’t quarrel, we must always be friends.”

“We will be,” he said gently touching her cheek.

©Copyright 2004 Dione Coumbe.

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