The Strange Affair Of The Ghost On Franklin Street - Part one
Jensen 1947
The band music filtered out into the street as Jensen walked up to the Sparkly Devil nightclub. The guy on the saxophone really knew what he was doing. And even though Jensen knew the music was not the most important part of the entertainment at this particular establishment, he loved it the most.
He couldn’t let on that he was there on business, of course.
He walked in through the purple velvet curtains, just in time to see Miss Ginger Valentine remove her white silk gloves with her teeth, swaying rhythmically with her voluptuous hips to the band music. The crowd whooped and cheered for more, as she teasingly threw a glove to an eager audience member in the front row.
Jensen walked in between the tables until he found a seat with a perfect view of both the stage and the office door.
He put his hat down on the table and ordered a Mickey’s from the waitress. Then he just pretended to be there for the show. It was not a hard thing to do.
Miss Ginger was pleasing to the eye. She had her long red hair pinned up and she was wearing a blue sparkly dress. Not for much longer by the look of things, because she was sliding down the straps one by one, looking coyly into the audience. Then she reached down to release the long zipper from her knee to the top of her dress and it fell from her to the floor, neatly timed to the loud beat of the hi-hat.
Jensen had to admit that she was a riveting performer. He leaned on to the table a bit more, playing his role to perfection. All Miss Ginger was left with now was a white satin body with long white tails.
Just as she was twirling around and cleverly undoing her hair at the same time, Jensen saw movement at the office door. He knew that Pellegrino always came out after his goons checked the place for possible threats.
Miss Ginger turned her back to the audience and opened her corset slowly. She looked over her shoulder, right at Jensen, and winked at him. He tipped his fingers to his head in acknowledgement.
She then turned around and wiggled her hips to the music, looking straight at him the whole time.
“Hey, Mister.”
One of Pellegrino’s men had sat down to the right of him. The other one sat down on his left.
“Yeah, Mister.”
“Boss says to stop ogling the dame,” the one on the right said.
“Yeah,” said the other one.
“Boss says come with us for some air.”
Without waiting for an answer or for Jensen to get up, they lifted him up out of his seat by his elbows and all but dragged him through the club and out the backdoor.
“Gentlemen, let’s talk about thi- Ouch.”
The smarter guy pushed him backwards into the wall. Hard.
“What were you watching the office for?”
“Yeah!” the dumb one said again.
“Is that all he can say?” Jensen asked.
Unfortunately the dumb one could throw a punch a whole lot better than he could talk. Jensen panted through the exploding pain in his jaw.
“What do you want with Mr. Pellegrino?”
“What? Who’s he? The big cheese?”
Jensen received some more well aimed blows for this question.
“I don’t like your manners,” the smart goon said.
“And I'm not crazy about yours. I didn't ask to see you outside. I don't mind if you don't like my manners, I don't like them myself. They are pretty bad. I grieve over them on long winter evenings.”
He got beaten up pretty good after that, before they threw him in a big pile of thrash. His hat came flying after him. Sometimes he wished he didn’t have this compulsion to say the wrong things to the wrong people.
Just as they decided to rough him up some more, Miss Ginger came out the backdoor, hurriedly wrapping a gown around herself, hiding a minuscule pair of white panties, tassels, and her otherwise naked body.
“Boys, stop it! Leave him alone!”
“But boss said-”
“Go!” she snapped at them as she crouched down next to him. Her expression changed from angry to flirty in an instant. “You’re cute. I like you.”
“Miss Ginger, what you see is nothing,” he said snickering, and sat up. “I’ve got a Balinese dancing girl tattooed across my chest.”
He put on his hat with a grimace, because of the pain in his ribs.
She smiled and extended her hand to him. “Danneel Harris, actually. Pleased to meet you, handsome.”
He took her hand and she pulled him up. “Jensen Ackles, actually. Likewise.”
Felicia 2013
Bright colors adorn the shop in a fashion that would bring on an instant toothache in most adults, even without tasting the merchandise. Glass jars containing candy are displayed on shelves all around the tiny store. It reminds Felicia of the shop where young Charlie bought his Wonka-bar with the golden ticket.
She hopes to find her winning ticket here too. Only hers has a golden coat of hair, a lovely bark and is going by the name of Sadie - at least, that’s what Mr. Cohen had said when he gave Felicia this job.
Even the shopkeeper looks a bit like the one in the movie. Luckily, he doesn’t have his brown floppy hair gelled back, but he is wearing a similar butt-ugly striped shirt with a bow tie. He isn’t nice like the shopkeeper in the movie though. Oh no. Mr. Cohen explained that very clearly. This man - Mr. Padalecki - is a tall meanie, who kidnapped his boyfriend’s dog when they broke up, just to spite and worry him. And Felicia is here to get it back. Inconspicuously, of course.
How she’s going to retrieve the dog isn’t exactly clear, as Felicia is terrified of dogs, but she really needs the money from this case.
Felicia opened her Detective Agency Day & Night just last month, shortly after getting her license. The office is in an older part of town, so the rent is cheap. The place has everything she needs though: a desk, a phone and an internet connection. It also has a tiny studio apartment at the back that she will have to rent out if business doesn’t pick up soon.
She approaches the shopkeeper with a smile. “Hi, could I get some gobstoppers?”
He looks at her and breaks out in a huge grin. “Ah, if I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that question, I’d be rich by now. What are you really here for?”
Felicia breaks out in a cold sweat. “Ehm, haha,” she says nervously, “I’d like some liquorice root please.”
The shopkeeper turns around and climbs on the ladder to reach the third shelf to get the roots.
“Do you also sell dog treats?” Felicia asks.
The shopkeeper looks over his shoulder amusedly. “No, why?”
“Oh, I was just wondering if I could get him something,” she points to the nose of the dog, trying to peek through the door from the backroom.
“Sadie? She doesn’t need the extra calories.”
‘Target identified,’ Felicia thinks. And that this man is really mean for denying Mr. Cohen’s dog some potentially free treats.
Felicia reaches in her bag to get the leash ready. “I’d also like some of that stuff,” she says as she points to the hardest to reach candy, up on a high shelf in the corner.
“Jolly Ranchers, you do know your candy,” he says with a voice that sounds way too nice for an evil dognapper. He moves the ladder past a precariously wobbly stack of bubble gum cigars and climbs up.
At that moment Felicia surges forward, opens the door to the backroom and puts the leash around the dog’s neck. At least, that’s what she planned to do. Sadie however, has other ideas and bounds forward to bark loudly and nip at the shopkeeper’s shoes.
Felicia trips over the leash and lands in the stack of bubble gum cigars. The shopkeeper tries to keep from falling down the ladder by groping the nearest shelf. It comes crashing down with a huge racket, and more than twenty jars with candy smashing to the floor, sweets spilling everywhere.
“Sadie!” the shopkeeper yells as he makes a dive from the ladder, somehow catching the dog and tucking her away behind the counter.
Felicia quickly hides the leash and holds her breath for the rant she expects towards her and the dog.
“Sadie, you silly girl. Let me see your paws. No glass in them? I’m so glad you’re okay.” The shopkeeper then ruffles the hair on the dog’s head and hugs her very tightly.
“You love that dog, don’t you?” Felicia asks him.
“Yeah, I rescued her from a shelter when she was a pup. She’s a great dog.”
“Mr. Padalecki, do you know a Matt Cohen?”
“Yes,” his face falls. “He’s a jealous ex- Wait. How do you-?”
“I suspected as much. He claims Sadie is his dog, and that you dognapped her. I’m a Private Investigator,” she shows him her badge, “and I was supposed to bring her back to him. I’m starting to have doubts about his sincerity and motives though. Can I offer you a cup of coffee to talk it over?”
The shopkeeper removes his bowtie and his ugly shirt, revealing a baby-pink novelty t-shirt with the words ‘I don’t do arts&crafts, but I still scissor’ on it. He tucks a jar of red twizzlers under his arm, closes up the candy-shop and throws the key through the letterbox.
“I quit,” he says. “I mastered selling candy, it’s time to move on.”
The three of them walk over to the dog-friendly coffee shop a few blocks over.
“Hey, look at that sign: ‘Help wanted’. It’s my lucky day,” he says joyously.
Felicia watches as the shopkeeper - or ex-shopkeeper now - orders two coffees, talks animatedly to the guy behind the counter and lands a job in the process.
“Free coffee is even better than free candy,” he says with a huge grin as he puts down the coffees on their table. He gives Sadie a cookie. “She deserves one after the scare,” he says. “I’ve never been a barista before, so: lots to learn. He said I can start work tomorrow.”
They drink the coffee, while talking about failed dognapping skills, jealous boyfriends, and the various jobs they held previously. She tells him about her new business, he complains about apartment hunting on a low budget. Somewhere during the conversation Felicia realizes that this friendly, outgoing, world-wise Mr. Padalecki might be just what she needs for her business to stay afloat. The fact that he’s huge and could look intimidating if he wanted to, doesn’t hurt either.
“How are you with guns?” she asks him.
“I know how to cock and shoot, if you know what I mean,” he says wiggling his eyebrows. Then more seriously, “I have a permit and a gun at home. I used to be a private security guard.”
“Good. Would you like to be a PI?”
“Like Magnum? With the hawaiian-shirt and shorts? Cool!”
“No, more like Philip Marlowe. With the suit and tie. I won’t be able to pay you much though.”
“I don’t care,” he says. “Bound to be more exciting than selling coffee.” He extends his hand, ”Jared Padalecki, Private Investigator.”
She shakes his hand. “Felicia Day, likewise.”
Jared 2013
Jared comes home to the tiny studio apartment at the back of the office of Day & Night. The apartment fits him like an elephant fits in a shoebox, but it’s low on rent and extremely low on commute time, so he won’t bitch about it to Felicia. Too much.
He finished unpacking yesterday and slept like a baby because of it. Finally. Because PI-work has been so boring, he hasn’t been able to burn off the excess energy, resulting in sleepless nights.
Today has been no exception, unfortunately. Felicia says that’s to be expected with starting a new business. You have to build up street cred and references.
So far, Jared’s new job as a PI hasn’t lived up to his expectations at all. First of all, Felicia made him buy and wear new shoes and a suit. Secondly, the only thing he’s done since he was hired four days ago, was buy office supplies and organize law books. Lastly, and clearly the most important point, he’d really hoped he would get to drive a Ferrari 308 at some point. Quite frankly, he hadn’t thought this line of work would be so boring.
He opens the fridge in the small kitchen to get a beer. It contains exactly two bottles of water, a bottle of ketchup and half a jar of pickles. He’s also out of dogfood. It’s clearly time to go grocery shopping.
Jared removes his already loosened tie, jacket, and shirt, hanging them over the only chair at the small, formica table. He’s kept to his tradition of wearing novelty t-shirts underneath his work-clothes. Today he wears his favorite zombie t-shirt with blood splatters. His mood brightens at the sight of it. He slaps on a beanie to finish the not-at-work look.
He opens the window to let the persistent smell of smoke from the former inhabitants out.
“I’ll be right back, Sadie,” he says as he walks out the door marked ‘Private’, through the office and down the stairs.
“Good evening,” the girl at the register says as he walks into the small grocery shop on his block.
“Hi,” he answers with a friendly smile.
He looks forward to getting to know the people in the neighborhood, to feeling more at home in this part of town. Franklin Street and its surrounding blocks consist of predominantly older buildings, mostly predating the Second World War. It’s not the most classy part of town, but it looks promising, and so far the people are friendly enough.
Jared gets the groceries he needs and walks up to the register with a heavy basket.
The guy in front of him unloads two beers onto the conveyer belt. He doesn’t look quite right, a bit shifty and unsure.
Jared keeps a watchful eye out without being too obvious.
The guy is fumbling with his wallet, picking out a five dollar bill and, after some hesitation, he swaps it for a fifty dollar bill.
“That’ll be four thirty,” the girl says with a polite smile.
The guy hands over the money with a slight tremble of his hand.
“Thank you,” she says.
She starts to open the register when Jared has an idea.
He says in a conversational tone to no one in particular, “I was at the coffee shop the other day and I heard about the counterfeit money that’s going around the neighborhood. Did you come across any yet?”
The girl stops her motion in mid-air and reaches for the counterfeit-detection pen.
The shady guy looks at the girl, then at Jared, and back to the girl. Then he picks up his beers and runs out of the store.
Well, he tries to run away, but Jared is quicker and he tackles him to the ground. The other customers gather around and start applauding him. It’s quite embarrassing. The store manager insists on giving him his groceries for free. Jared ends up slipping him his brand new business card, just in case.
After a quick walk with Sadie that evening, he enjoys his free beer and chips in front of the TV, with his dog curled up at his feet. The excitement of catching an actual thief single handedly is enough to make Jared fall asleep watching a film noir movie with Humphrey Bogart from the forties. That man was a great detective with a great hat. Jared might need one of those too.
Danneel 1947
There was a knock on her door.
“Miss Ginger? Five minutes.”
She emptied her Whiskey Sour, took off her bathrobe and slipped the flowy emerald green dress over her head. It was her favorite, low cut at the back, revealing her chest and fitting snugly around her hips, with a long split up to the side. Sexy, but classy, and sure to earn her some generous tips.
Another knock on the door.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” she yelled as she opened the door. Danneel’s breath caught in her lungs when she saw Mr. Pellegrino standing there instead of the stage-hand she’d expected.
“Good evening, baby-doll,” he said.
“Hot damn!” she exclaimed. “I have to get on stage now, the audience is expecting me. Excuse me,” she managed to say. She was pleased that her voice sounded more steady than she felt.
“It’s my club. The audience can wait a few minutes. Don’t you think?”
The tone of his voice always managed to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. Danneel involuntarily took a step back, and then quickly feigned to fix her dress.
Mr. Pellegrino opened the flat wooden box he carried and opened it in front of her. It contained the most beautiful jewelry she’d ever seen.
“I need you to look your best tonight, dolly. It’s a special night after all.”
She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
He continued, “You’ll see.”
No use in asking any questions or declining. Mr. Pellegrino wasn’t the type of man to accept anything but ‘yes’ as an answer.
She clasped the necklace with the emerald green heart around her neck, put in the matching emerald earrings, and slipped on the wide bracelet containing rows upon rows of small emeralds and diamonds.
Mr. Pellegrino pulled her body to his with one arm and kissed her. “Ease up, you’ll blow them away as usual.”
Danneel quickly slipped by him through the doorway. She saw his smirk as he stroked her ass in passing and she shivered. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. It was dangerous to show weakness around him.
“Ladies and gentleman, I present you Miss Ginger Valentine!”
The piano and bass started up languidly.
Daneel walked up to the mic, put her right foot forward so her bare leg would show. Then she ran her hand along the microphone-stand to the top.
“Summertime,” she started low and slow.
A soft applause and some whoops erupted from the audience.
“And the livin’ is easy.
Fish are jumpin’,
And the cotton is high.”
She raised her hand to her face and switched feet, then she brought her hand back down to rest on the mic-stand.
“Your daddy’s rich.”
She put her hands on her hips and gave a soft sway.
“And your mama good looking.
So hush, little baby,
Don’t cry.”
During the musical intermezzo she looked into the audience and saw Mr. Pellegrino sitting alone at the best table in the house. He had a bottle of champagne and two glasses in front of him. He stared at her, which she didn’t like one bit.
Danneel averted her eyes and sought out her dreamboat. There he was, smoking alone at his usual table somewhat to the side. His broad shoulders filled out his cheap suit nicely. She didn’t mind him coming back regularly after that one night after she had found him getting beaten up in the alley.
She’d told him then he was a dish, and she’d meant it. Although he meant more to her now than just eye-candy. He turned out to be a good and decent man.
They’d gone out to the movies and drinks a couple of times now. She’d told him about her rich papa, he told her about his tendency to make bad decisions in his personal life. They hadn’t kissed yet, and she wondered if maybe Jensen was becoming the best friend she’d ever had. Not that she wasn’t planning on more than that.
Danneel finished her song with her arms up and her back pushed out. Loud applause and cheering erupted.
“Thank you,” she said, and she walked off the stage towards Jensen, hoping to avoid, or at least delay whatever Mr. Pellegrino had planned for her that evening.
Her little plan was cut short however, and she was intercepted by the gorillas and escorted to Mr. Pellegrino’s table. He stood up and held her tight.
“Get ready for your surprise,” he whispered in her ear.
All she really wanted to do was yank lose and get away from him, but he’d made it abundantly clear that if she didn’t give him what he wanted, her papa would come to know things. Things he wouldn’t like to hear and see, and which would inevitably lead to him cutting off her generous allowance.
She’d talked about her predicament with Jensen one evening.
“I just want out. Out of this glamorous and exciting life I thought I wanted,” she’d said after a particularly gruelling evening with Mr. Pellegrino and his wandering hands.
“I can get you out. I’ll just walk up to him and-”
“Don’t. You’ll get us in trouble.”
“I don’t mind a reasonable amount of trouble,” he’d said with a grin and a wink.
He’d kissed the top of her head then, and drew her in for a hug.
And that was exactly why she loved him.
The band started playing ‘Only Forever’. Mark the drummer looked sad as he sang the lyrics by Bing Crosby, as if he knew something she didn’t.
“Do I want to be with you as the years come and go?
Only forever if you care to know.”
The big spotlight swooped from the band to Mr. Pellegrino’s table.
“Would I grant all your wishes and be proud of the task?
Only forever if someone should ask.”
Danneel was getting more nervous with every beat of the drums.
“Miss Ginger Valentine,” Mr. Pellegrino said in a loud voice, so the entire audience could hear, “I want you to marry me.” He gave her a small, square jewelry box.
Polite applause erupted around them.
Jensen looked up and raised his eyebrows questioningly at her.
Danneel caught his look and shrugged her shoulders indicating her surprise as well.
“Well, Ginger. ” Mr. Pellegrino said insistently to her. Then he turned to the onlookers and said jokingly, “You’ll have to excuse baby-doll. She’s a bit jittery,” but his eyes were cold as steel.
“I-, I can’t,” Danneel said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. She regretted saying it, the minute the two words left her lips.
“What do you mean you can’t,” Mr. Pellegrino asked as he took Danneel’s left wrist in a painful grip.
Behind Mr. Pellegrino’s back, Jensen picked up his hat and got up from his table. He loosened his pinky-ring as he walked over to Danneel, never taking his eyes off of her.
“She can’t because she’s already hitched,” Jensen said calmly as he moved closer to Danneel. He took her right hand and covertly slipped the ring on her finger.
The audience gasped, even the music stopped. An eerie silence descended over the club.
Danneel looked at Jensen in almost well-disguised surprise and she wondered if he maybe really meant it. She decided then that she’d go with it, because yes, him she’d gladly take to be her husband.
“I can’t marry you, because I love this guy,” Daneel said with more strength. “We’re engaged to be married. See?” She showed Mr. Pellegrino the ring. Her hand didn’t even shake much.
Jensen squeezed her other hand in reassurance. With him by her side, everything was going to be alright.
Mr. Pellegrino let go of her arm and eyed the ring conspicuously. “How come I haven’t seen that rock on your finger before?” He was clearly trying to keep from blowing a fuse.
“I guess you got doll dizzy,” Jensen answered for her. “We decided to keep the news between us for a few days.”
Mr. Pellegrino’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure if he was buying their charade.
“You have a very smooth explanation,” Mr. Pellegrino said, forcibly keeping his calm.
“What do you want me to do, learn to stutter?”
Mr. Pellegrino’s gorillas stepped up to Jensen. Jensen stood up straight, and tucked Danneel to his side.
“No need to snap your cap,” Jensen said to them and Danneel was sure this would be the end for them.
Someone took a picture with a bright flash. In the temporary confusion, Jensen turned to Danneel, “Let’s take a powder,” he whispered in her ear as he put on his hat.
When they were almost to the velvet curtain covering the exit, Jensen said over his shoulder to Mr. Pellegrino, “One more thing, she quits.”
And then they just walked out of the room, stared at by the whole clientèle.
They got lucky: nobody thought to shoot them.
“Quick,” Jensen said to Danneel. “Mr. P.'s going to want his jewels back, and we don't have much time for the switch.”
She looked confused at the green sparkly jewels that he presented from his pocket. Jensen's handsome face showed no sign of the relieved happiness she saw a minute ago. He looked all professional and business.
“Fake,” he simply stated and handed the stage-jewels to her.
Jensen quickly started removing her emerald necklace and bracelet. After a short hesitation Danneel took out the earrings with trembling hands.
“Are you a thief?” she asked.
She was disappointed to realize that he'd used her, but he’d helped her as well. Maybe she still could get him to marry her for real.
“No, just a Private Dick,” Jensen said.
That was marginally better than a criminal, at least.
He'd barely slipped the real jewels in his pocket and the fake ones in her hands when the gorillas came running after them, Mr. Pellegrino following close behind.
Jensen motioned with his head and she knew what he expected of her.
She threw the jewels to Mr. Pellegrino’s feet. “Take these, you crummy creep! I don’t need no sugar-daddy. I got a real man now!”
And she would do her damndest to really make him hers.
Felicia 2013
Felicia puts away her mister potato-head, makes sure that the keyboard is perfectly aligned with the edge of the desk, and that there is absolutely no dust left on the monitor. Nothing is going to stand between her and her first real client.
Actually, Jared’s ex had been her first client, but he had refused to pay her after she’d confronted him about his dishonesty. So, she considers this case to be her second chance at her first real paying job, hence the extensive preparations.
She straightens her suit-jacket, and tries out different poses behind her desk. She goes with the one where she rests with her chin on her hand, feigning to read something of interest on the monitor.
Then she hears a soft gurgling sound to her left.
“Gggmmpfffgg.” Jared barely conceals his laughter.
“Jared. Just, shut up.”
He's sitting on his desk, dangling his feet and grinning wildly at her, totally at ease with himself and the upcoming situation.
“Put on your jacket and straighten your tie,” she says.
It only makes him grin wider.
“Nervous much?” he asks her, swinging his long legs up and down even higher.
After only a week, Jared’s learned exactly how to push her buttons. She might be regretting the decision to employ him already, and takes a breath in preparation to tell him just that when she hears their client walking up to their office door, heels clicking on the tiles in the hallway.
“Jared,” she hisses as she resumes her pose at the desk. “Be professional.” And she adds in her mind, “Or I’ll have to kill you.”
For once he listens, straightening his suit as he jumps off of his desk just before the knock on the door.
Felicia has her polite, yet welcoming smile - the one that she didn’t practice in the mirror all morning - plastered on just in time to greet their client. “Good morning, Miss Huffman. So, please tell us what we can do for you.”
Felicia observes that her client isn’t wearing heels, but red cowboy boots. How cute.
“Before I hire you, I need to know I can count on your total discretion,” she says, as she looks nervously down to the large lilac bag she keeps in her lap. Even cuter. “And please call me Alaina,” she adds with a mind blowing smile.
“Of course, Miss Huffm-, Alaina, your case will be treated with total confidentiality,” Felicia hastens to assure her.
The wall-light behind their first real client flickers. Felicia motions with her head for Jared to fix it. Not a good first impression and they absolutely can’t afford to lose her.
Luckily Alaina only looks around nervously for a moment, “What a nice little office you have here, it reminds me of a PI-office from a film noir, except it’s not in black-and-white obviously,” she adds as she tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear. “I half expect Humphrey Bogart to come walking through that door,” she says as she points to the door marked ‘Private’.
Felicia is starting to like her more every minute.
“Alaina, would you please tell us about the case?”
“I, uh. It's a delicate matter. I have been told to stop nosing around. It was made clear to me that if I keep on researching, something bad will happen to me. They said I can’t go to the police, so that’s why I came to you. Can you help me please?” She looks pleadingly from Felicia to Jared.
Felicia leans over the desk and puts her hand reassuringly on Alaina’s arm. She looks up with big blue eyes. Felicia thinks that Alaina’s dressed exceptionally in her black blouse with red flowers and skinny jeans. Somehow she feels the need to protect this innocent young woman from whatever big bad that is threatening her.
“Why don’t you tell us about your research first,” Felicia says in an attempt to calm Alaina’s nerves.
“Well, I love the forties, always have. I didn’t study history or art, but I’ve always been fascinated by that era. Last year, I decided to start writing a book on ‘The Sparkly Devil’ nightclub, it was the best club in town in those days. All the famous people went there and I’ve found tons of great photographs,” she pats her bag. “It’s all very glamorous,” she adds excitedly.
“Do you have any idea why someone would want you to stop this research?” Jared asks.
Felicia almost forgot that Jared is in the room too.
“No, I really don’t,” Alaina says as all the enthusiasm drains out of her. “It was all supposed to be harmless fun. I received the threat the day after I talked with two of the men who used to work at the club, the piano player and a bodyguard. I tried to find more people to talk to, but most of them have passed away by now.”
“Would you like to show us some of those pictures?” Felicia asks, hoping for that spark to come back into the lovely young lady’s eyes.
“Well sure,” Alaina says as she opens her bag, “These pictures are from the entertainment, the burlesque shows, and the band with some singers. That’s Ginger Valentine, who I would have loved to interview, but she died a long time ago. And these are of the famous clientele visiting the club, this one is of Ava Gardner. It’s even been autographed by her. That’s surely making the book, if I ever get to finish it,” she adds in a sad voice.
“I think we can be of service to you, Alaina,” Felicia says after politely flipping through some of the pictures. “Could you leave your research with us for now? We’ll have to search through it for clues. And we’d also like the names and numbers of the people you spoke to. I’m sure we’ll find whoever is threatening you.”
Alaina gets up and shakes Felicia’s hand. She looks less pale now. “Thank you, I feel much safer already.”
Jensen 1947
Jensen was sitting in his office, feet up on the desk, thinking through the events of last night while enjoying his cigarette. They’d been lucky to leave the club alive, but it’d been worth it. He had the jewels, and he’d gotten Danneel out of the claws of Mr. P.
He sat up as he heard someone walking up to his office door, heels punctuating every step across the hallway.
He took his feet down off of his desk just before the knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said.
And there she was, the beautiful Miss Danneel Harris - the former Miss Ginger Valentine - in his office on Franklin Street.
“Papa called this morning to say that he’s cut me off completely. I could barely afford the cab ride over here. I have no money, no job, no nothing,” Danneel said as she sat down on the chair opposing Jensen.
Having saved her from Pellegrino meant that he felt even more responsible for her now. He should start by making things right for her, get her back on her feet.
She fumbled with her purse, and put a cigarette between her red lips. Jensen offered her a light that she accepted with a slight nod of her head. She then proceeded to take out a glass and a little silver flask. Putting the glass on his desk, she filled it to the brim, and downed it in one go.
They sat in silence for a while.
“How are you with a phone?” Jensen asked.
“I know how to take it in my hand, and put my mouth to it,” she said pursing her lips.
“Well, it's just your luck that I'm in need of a secretary. If you’re looking, that is.”
When Jensen stepped through the door from the studio-apartment into his office the next morning, Danneel wasn’t in yet.
Around noon, she still hadn’t arrived. He was just starting to get worried, when she burst in, talking loudly.
“I had to take the bus. Imagine. Me, on public transportation. And then I found out the lousy thing didn’t stop near your office. I had to walk a whole block. I’m starting to rethink this business of being broke.”
She sat down and took off her high-heeled shoes, rubbing her toes.
It had to be a big transition for her, going from glamour to gutter in one night. Still, he couldn’t start letting her get away with being tardy on her first day.
“What are you doing here this late?” Jensen asked.
“Honey, don’t you remember? You hired me to be your secretary,” she said with a playful little smile.
Yeah, he was doomed.
Jensen quickly found out that calling Danneel his secretary didn’t actually make her one. She was generally inadequate at her job, and showed an especially unique talent for not following instructions. He had to admire her sass though.
“Danneel, please call Mrs. Tal and make an appointment for her to come to my office tomorrow.”
“Why?” Danneel asked as she took out a tin of Squirrel peanut butter and a spoon from her desk.
“So that she can come and pick up the emeralds.”
“Can I see them?” she asked. She walked around her desk, sat on top of it and crossed her legs.
Jensen got up. He put aside the coat stand, tapped the third wall-panel to the left of the door, and revealed a secret closet.
“Ooh, swell,” Danneel said. She opened the tin and stuck the spoon in.
Jensen showed her the cardboard box with the jewels in it. “Will you please make the call to Mrs. Tal now?”
“I’d like to know more about this case first,” she said as she looked him in the eye, licking the peanut butter from the spoon. “You know, to properly do my job.”
He knew she was taking advantage of him, but he decided to let it go for now in the interest of keeping the peace between them. So he humoured her by filling her in about the case.
“There’s not much to tell. Mrs. Alona Tal, the young bride to Mr. Tal of Tal International Shipping, was swindled out of her emeralds by your Mr. P. She hired me to get them back discreetly.”
Jensen looked at Danneel questioningly when she still didn’t show any sign of making the call. Instead, she dipped the spoon back into the tin.
“Don’t mind me,” she said. She motioned her hand holding the spoon to encourage him to continue his story.
Although he felt responsible for her, his patience had started to wear thin.
“Mrs. Tal gave me the fake jewels - did you know she mostly wears the fake ones? I staked out ‘The Sparkly Devil’ and made the switch at the first opportunity - as you witnessed. Tomorrow she comes here, and I hand her back the jewels. Then I get payed. Case closed. And I always close the case. Satisfied?”
Danneel sighed as she licked the spoon clean and put it away with the tin, back in her desk.
“Guess it’ll have to do for now,” she sighed.
Jensen took a deep breath and said as calmly as he could, “Then stop ragging and make the call.” He was definitely starting to regret his decision to hire her.
Jensen was immersed in his thoughts about Mr. P., and whether he could make any charges stick, when Danneel startled him with a question.
“Do you like me?” she asked with a little smile.
He looked up, wondering where this was going.
“As a person or as a secretary?” he asked cautiously.
Her smile was replaced by another, more serious look. “As a woman.”
“I like you just fine,” he said, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.
Danneel walked over to the cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
“Why did you put that ring on my finger?” she asked, as she put the tumblers down on his desk and poured out a generous amount, emptying the bottle in the process.
“To keep you safe.”
“I figure that any other man would have at least kissed me by now.”
Jensen rubbed his face, there was no getting out of this discussion. He couldn’t hold off telling her any longer.
“Was there ever a chance of this becoming more?” she asked in a soft voice. “I mean, you could have gotten the jewels another way, without involving me. Without rescuing me and putting us both in the line of fire. You must love me a little bit.”
Jensen hated hearing hope in her voice when he knew there was no reason for her to hope. He had to tell her now.
“I thought you knew,” Jensen said, studying her expression. The only evidence of her surprise was a small tremble from her lower lip.
“Knew what?” she asked.
“That I’m a confirmed bachelor?”
She took her glass and drank until it was empty. Then she took his, and did the same.
He saw how she was fighting to keep the emotion from her face. His girl was a tough cookie.
“So this between us is strictly business? Will never be more than strictly business? Is that what you’re saying?” she asked slightly angry, with a little crack in her voice.
“You’re a swell woman and a great friend, Danneel, and if I could, I would love you that way. But as it is, I can’t offer you anything but my friendship and this job.”
He’d never seen her look so small and vulnerable, so he walked over and gave her a hug. When he looked into her eyes again, he could barely see a trace of her initial sadness and anger.
The phone rang and broke the silence.
“Well, ain’t that a coincidence,” she seemed to shrug off the whole situation. She walked over to her chair and picked up the receiver. “Hello?” She giggled. “Uhuh, I bet you do.” She giggled some more.
Jensen was sure it was all an act. It was her pretending everything was alright, not showing her disappointment.
“Okay, okay.” She hung up the phone with a little theatrical sigh.
“Who was it?” Jensen asked.
“Someone looking for a PI, I didn’t catch their name.”
Yeah, he was definitely doomed.
Jensen supposed she was acting out to hide that she was crushed by his news. He was afraid it would take a long time and loads of presents to make her forgive him for not telling her earlier about his preferences and essentially leading her on and breaking her heart.
He hadn’t meant for all of this to happen.
Danneel stood from her desk and put on her coat and shoes. ”I’m going out to clear my head and buy us more booze. I think we might need it.”
“Here,” he said as he put some money on her desk. “An advance, so you can take a cab.”
He got a little smile for that. Things would be alright between them in the end, he hoped. He wasn’t prepared to let her go just yet, because finding friendship and trust had been rare in his life.
When Danneel closed the office door on her run to the liquor store, Jensen lit another cigarette and sat back in his chair. He covered his face with his hat.
A glass of whiskey in his hand would have been good now, if his dippy secretary hadn’t drank his whole stash. Danneel sure could hold her liquor.
He closed his eyes. The case was solved, and after this morning’s events, he thought he deserved a little rest.
Jensen heard the door open again a few minutes later.
“Did you forget- ?” he asked as he lifted his hat off of his eyes.
Mr. P.’s goons started searching through the office before he could finish his sentence. They ransacked the place, while an amused Mr. P. held Jensen at gunpoint.
“Hey, do you mind?” Jensen asked, gesturing at the growing mess in his office.
“As a matter of fact, we don’t,” Mr. P. said, blocking the doorway to the hall.
Being held at gunpoint was nothing new to Jensen. He only hoped that Danneel would stay away long enough to avoid Mr. P. and his goons.
Jensen made a motion to retrieve his gun from the drawer, but Mr. P. slammed it shut before he could get to it. Jensen kicked the gun from Pellegrino’s hand and got up from his chair quickly. He ran around his desk to try and stop the goons from raiding his file-cabinet. He grabbed one by the shoulder, but the other man hit Jensen square in the face.
Jensen gave a good fight, but he was no match for two trained and muscled mafioso. They pushed him down to his chair easily enough.
In the meantime, Mr. P. had retrieved his gun from the floor and pointed it at Jensen again. This time with less humour. He sat down on the desk facing Jensen.
“Now, let’s talk about the emeralds. I’m prepared to exchange your life for the return of the real jewels. Do you have them?”
“No,” Jensen said.
“But if they aren’t here, why did you risk serious injury to prevent us searching for them?”
“Why should I sit around here and let people come in and stick me up?” Jensen asked.
“Maybe I should just knock you off,” Mr. P. said matter-of-factly.
Jensen pushed his hat on straight.
“If you kill me, how are you gonna get the emeralds? And if I know you can't afford to kill me, how are you gonna scare me into giving them to you?”
“Maybe it isn’t all about the emeralds,” Mr. P. said with a creepy smile as he aimed the gun at Jensen’s heart and pulled the trigger.
>> Part Two - Masterpost
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