“Why’s that?”
“I used to think that men like that were…exciting.”
“Yeah, you dated one of Capone’s bodyguards, didn’t you?”
“He was Mrs. Capone’s bodyguard. He was very handsome. Dark, like Valentino. Very polite. But he was quiet. You couldn’t hold a decent conversation with him. He made me nervous.”
“But it excited you that he carried a gun.”
“Hey, I was an impressionable kid, then. I looked up to my Uncle Jim, thought what he did was thrilling and dangerous.”
“You were right, weren’t you?”
“You gotta understand, Nate-I was never very close to my papa. He was one of those hardworking men who provided well for his family but worked eighty hours a week to do it. Well, it wasn’t just for us. I think he loved his work, loved poring over numbers and figures.”
“It’s important for a man to like his work.”
“You like your work very much, don’t you, Nate?”
“I do as long as it’s not today. Getting shot at in the middle of a Bronzeville street by two guys with shotguns isn’t my idea of a career. But yeah, I like being a businessman, and the business I’m in, private security, confidential investigations, I like it, yeah. I’m good at it. Of course, it’s been a little demanding.”
“How so?”
“Well, when you’re the boss, and you’re building up a business from scratch, you put in a lot of hours, like your dad did. Only at least he managed to marry the girl next door. I haven’t had much of a personal life.”
“You mean you’re thirty-eight years old and still single.”
“If I don’t settle down soon, people are going to start thinking I’m a fag.”
Her face went crinkly with a smile at the thought of that. “I don’t think that’s too likely. Say, you’re not proposing, are you?”
“Not just yet. Not after I saw your work with a flower vase. I bet you’d be murder with a rolling pin.”
She flashed those perfect white teeth. She touched the side of my face. “If you ever do get around to asking me…well, even if you don’t, I’ll still love you, you big lug.”
Men love it when women call them big lugs. Anyway, I do.
“Why will you still love me?” I asked. Begging for more flattery.
“Because you’ve really taught me so much.”
“Oh?”
“About the kind of man I want to marry. Even if it doesn’t turn out to be you. The things I admire about you are the things I saw in my father, and in my Uncle Jim. You care about what you do, and you care about people.”
I knew a certain badly bruised party on the Near Northwest Side who’d disagree with her on the latter, but I let that go.
“You really love your Uncle Jim, don’t you?”
“That’s what I started to say…I always felt closer to my uncle than to my father. Uncle Jim was always swell-he never treated us kids like kids, more like we were just people.”
“I’ve always had the feeling Jim was the black sheep of your family.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But I know Papa wasn’t crazy about him. About the business he was in.”
“But it seemed kind of glamorous to you.”
“I think so. The gambling, the big money, names from the headlines, men with guns, beautiful women with minks and gowns.”
“Like your old pal Virginia Hill.”
“She’s back in town, by the way.”
I sat up in bed. “What?”
“She’s back in town. Visiting that friend of hers, what was his name? Joe Epstein. They’re still thick, after all these years. Imagine that.”
“Why, have you
“Well, yes. I had lunch with her last Friday. In the Walnut Room at Marshall Field’s. She looked me up.”
“She looked you up!” I gripped her arm. “Tell me about it.”
“Ouch! You’re hurting me.”
“Sorry,” I said. I let go. “Tell me about it.”
“It was no big deal. She called me on the phone, at the office. I’ve seen her a few times over the years. We’ve had lunch before. She’s kept in touch with her girls.”
“What did she want?”
“To have lunch! Nate, what’s the big deal?”
“Did she question you about your uncle, at all? His daily schedule?”
“No,” she said, very confused. “Why would she?”
“Did your uncle come up in conversation in any way?”
“Well-yes. She asked about his business.”
“What did she ask about his business?”
“How he was doing. How’s the tip sheet racket these days, is what she wanted to know. I said my uncle was doing great and left it at that.”
“That was the extent of it?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes I’m sure! Nate…”
“Good girl. Listen, do you remember me telling you, years ago, that Epstein was Jake Guzik’s accountant?”
She rubbed the side of her face; her eyes went dark with worry. “Oh…oh, my. I’d forgotten that…I’ve never seen Epstein, not in years. I never thought past Virginia herself, when she called. I never dreamed…you don’t think she was trying to pump me about my uncle-for Guzik? Nate, you don’t think I inadvertently
“If you didn’t say anything about his daily routine, no. If you did…yes.”
“I didn’t.” But her eyes were racing, as she thought back, making sure she hadn’t. Then her look became determined and she said: “I didn’t.”
“Good. Stay away from the Hill dame. I said it before, and I
She frowned in thought for a while, then said, “I guess this proves it, then.”
“What?”
“That Guzik was the one responsible for what happened to Uncle Jim.”
“Not really. He’s not the only one La Hill has connections with. Haven’t you kept up on your old mentor’s career?”
“Sure. There’s been a lot in the papers about her. Lee Mortimer’s column, especially. She’s the belle of cafe society- hostess of big cocktail parties in New York and Hollywood. At places like Ciro’s on the Sunset Strip.”
“Ever been to any of those joints?”
“Nathan, I’ve never even been to Hollywood.”
“It’s a great place. The buildings are made of mud and cardboard-you can put your foot through any given wall.”
“I can’t believe that. You’re so cynical. It sounds like a fabulous place to me.”
“Why, you still thinking of becoming an actress?”
“No. I let go of that dream a long time ago. But Ginny was in a movie.”
“Really? I must’ve missed that.”
“Well, it was her only one. Little role. She’s busy with all her social obligations, I guess.”
“Where’s her money coming from, you suppose?”
“Epstein, other guys like him. She used to have this other sugar daddy, Major Riddle.”
I nodded. “He owns the Plantation Club in Moline. Pretty ritzy gambling joint.”
