Case of the Tempting Torch Singer

The Case of the Tempting Torch

         She held the microphone with one hand; the other hand held the cord so that it kept a slack line to the feed. Her voice was sultry, making love to the torch song and reminding Spam of soft Southern nights and cool satin sheets. She was made for these songs. Long auburn hair cascaded together in waves when she tossed her head; there wasn’t a wayward curl out of place. Veronica Lake would be envious of her hair. The strapless dress hugged her body and almost contained the breasts that teased the microphone cord as it folded around the ample cleavage. Her curves were exactly where curves ought to be. The slinky black dress reached almost to the floor, racing her long legs down to see which got there first. The legs won.

         The crowd in Jocko’s was larger than usual. For the last two weeks it had been steadily growing. Spam figured that the stacked siren whispering out the torch song had something to do with Jocko’s increasing popularity. In fact he was sure of it. He and Cassidy sat at one of the tables near the small stage. Both nursed a drink but neither was drinking at the moment. Kimberly was finishing up “Am I Blue”, which was the last song of this set. The drinks would increase when she finished and would then trickle off again when she sang her last set. Accompanied only by a piano, Kimberly was worth the money Jocko paid her.

         Cassidy normally didn’t spend much time in Jocko’s. She had responsibilities at home. But several evenings in the last two weeks she had gotten Mrs. Knight, Spam’s next-door landlady, to watch Jerry. Spam and Cassidy were aware of one of the remaining chairs being scooted from the table and occupied. A glance from Spam confirmed that Jocko had decided to join his friends at the table. That meant Vinny was tending to the bar. Jocko rarely left the bar, preferring to tend it himself, with Vinny’s help. But when Kimberly sang, Jocko’s attention was definitely not on tending bar.

          “She’s really on tonight, Jocko”

          “Yeah, ain’t she somethin’? It’s the best money I’ve ever spent.”

          “You should have gotten a torch singer long time ago.” Cassidy added.

          “Naw, Cass, I didn’t want one. Besides, I ain’t never heard anyone like Kimberly. If I had heard her before I’d a done it. But, there just hasn’t been anyone like that before.”

          “Yeah, and she can sing too.” Spam added, to which Cassidy kicked him under the table. “

         Ouch!” he responded and looked to Cassidy. He received only a cool stare.

          “What, can’t a doll have looks and sing too?” Spam defended himself. All he got was the second verse of the same cool stare.

         Kimberly finished her song. A few of the patrons strolled up to the piano and stuffed some bills into the large tumbler sitting there. Kimberly smiled at them, replaced the microphone in its holder and made her way to the table with Jocko and his friends.

          “Hi, boss” she cooed. “How’d I do?” A smile crept to her lips.

          “You did fine, Kimberly. You sang like an angel. How ya’ feeling?” Jocko returned, giving his attention to Kimberly…all of Kimberly.

         ”That’s sweet, Jocko.” Kimberly cooed and bent down and kissed Jocko on the cheek.

         Spam watched her as he did and gained a heighten appreciation for torch singers. “I think you did fine, too.”

         His reward for the compliment was another swift kick under the table from Cassidy, “Ouch !”

         Kimberly smiled at Cassidy and chuckled. She started to respond when suddenly her arm was grabbed and she wheeled around to face one of the patrons. It was obvious that he had been one of the few still slugging down drinks as she sang for he passed the point of control. There is a point where a person who is simply high becomes down right drunk. This Joe had gotten to that point and sped right on through.

          “Hey, dolly, why don cha’ come over and sing to me?”

         His hands were running up her sides and he was enveloping her like a hungry bear. He was a powerful man and although she was obviously able to take care of herself, she was simply over powered.

          “Hey, you!” Jocko exclaimed as he bounced from his chair, knocking it over behind him. “Let the Lady go.”

          “The Lady don wanna be let go, old man.” The drunk ignored Jocko and increased his hold on Kimberly.

          “I told you to let the lady go!”

         Jocko grabbed one of the drunk’s arms and twisted it behind his back, forcing it up the small of his back to the base of the neck. Pain shot through the drunk’s arm as he let Kimberly go and turned around to lessen the pain and strike out at Jocko. Jocko had the guy under control except that the drunk was quicker than he had planned for and was able to swing his hand up to Jocko’s throat. When Jocko loosened his grip the drunk turned full face to Jocko and swung with a wicked uppercut that caught Jocko dead center in the chin. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

         Jocko was down. However, Spam had not just been sitting there. When the drunk spun on Jocko Spam was around the table and already swinging. No sooner than Jocko began to fall, Spam connected with a punch straight to the nose, which fractured and immediately gushed blood. When the drunk’s hands flew to his face, Spam drove his fist into the drunk’s stomach and forcing all the air from his lungs. The drunk bent over with his hands still to his face. Instead of swinging up with an upper cut, Spam struck down behind the drunk’s ear. The momentum carried the drunk to the floor.

         Likelihood was that the drunk was an OK guy. But that’s what booze does to you. Tomorrow he’ll probably come into Jocko’s, embarrassed, telling Jocko he’s sorry for making an ass of himself. But that would be tomorrow after the booze was out of his system.

         Spam turned around and found both Cassidy and Kimberly kneeling next to Jocko. Kimberly was holding Jocko’s head in her lap next to her breasts. Cassidy had her hand on Jocko’s shoulder speaking to him.

          “Jocko, are you OK? Can you hear me?”

         Jocko shook his head and mumbled, “Yeah, sure, I’m OK. Lucky punch. Just give me a second.”

         Kimberly spoke with alarm in her voice, “I’m so sorry Jocko. Men just seem to do that with me. I’m so sorry. I shoulda been watchin’ for him.”

          “Don’t be silly, Doll. Sometimes they just sneak up on ya. Are you OK?”

         Kimberly responded, “Yeah, I’m OK; I’m just so sorry.”

         Vinny and Spam tossed the drunk and his party out of the bar, actually, they went peaceably. When Spam returned to Cassidy, Jocko was sitting at the table with his wounded ego; Kimberly was gone to prepare for the next set.

          “You OK, Jocko?”

          “Yeah, Spam, I shoulda been able to handle that guy. It’s just that I got so upset when he grabbed Kimberly. I just didn’t think right”

          “You know, that sometimes happens with dames, Jocko--especially when they begin to mean more than just an attraction in a bar. You getting’ feelins’ for this dame, Jocko?”

          “Naw, that ain’t it Spam; at least I don’t think it is. Well, I don’t know what I think. I just didn’t like the way he was grabbin’ her. You’d do the same if it were Cassidy.”

          “Sure I would Jocko.” Spam glanced over to Cassidy to see if she heard him respond. She did. Then he continued, “Jocko, Kimberly’s a sweet kid, but what do you know about her?”

          “Ah, Spam, what do you ever really know about anybody. She walked in here three weeks ago and asked for a job. She seemed pretty desperate. The kid’s had some hard times. I didn’t ask any questions. I asked her to sing me a song and she did. After hearing her I knew she had to work here.”

          “Jocko, I’m gonna do a little checking around on Kimberly. There’s no problem; I just want to be sure one doesn’t come up. I wanted you to know before I started checking.”

          “Go ahead, Spam. I’m sure you’ll find she’s a good kid. I appreciate you telling me.”

          “You’re my friend, Jocko. You gotta watch after your friends.”

***************

         He dropped the box of cream-filled donuts on the lieutenant’s desk. Dave Frisco looked up with a start.

         “What the…?” He looked quizzically at Spam.

         “Call it a bribe. The fastest way to influence a cop is with cream-filled donuts. Most folks think you use money; but, I know that won’t work.” Spam smiled at his old friend.

         “Damn it, Spam. Don’t you ever just walk into an office? Do you always have to make an entrance?" Dave fished in the box pulling out a donut and then offered the box to Spam. "You want a donut?"

         “Now, what am I gonna have to do to earn these donuts?

         “I need a little information, Dave. See what you have on a cute dish named Kimberly Ashland. I’m not sure where she is from; but, from what she has said, I suspect it was from down south, somewhere around Mobile. Does your influence go that far?”

         Dave smiled at Spam, “You’d be surprised at how far my influence reaches. Anything special about this dame?”

         “Not that I know of. Jocko’s hired her as a torch singer at his bar. The dish has golden pipes and the looks to go with it. Something’s not quite right about her, Dave. I wouldn’t want Jocko to get hurt.”

         “I’ll see what I can find, Spam.” Dave motioned to the box of cream-filled donuts. “Can I keep the rest of ‘em?”

         Spam smiled, turned, and walked out the door. “Do you really think I could take them away from you?”

******************

         Spam pushed his empty shot glass over to Jocko, “Give me another shot, Jocko. It’s my last for today so make it sweet.”

          “Sure, Spam.”

         He filled the shot glass to the brim and then turned his attention to the table in the back of the room. A middle-aged man was sitting alone nursing a beer. He looked straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought.

          “You say he’s been coming here every night just about rush-hour time? Does he always sit at the same table?”

         Jocko nodded his head yes. “Right around 5 o’clock…same table. Always orders beer. He nurses them all evening. I asked him where he was from…you know, being friendly. He just answers that he’s been around…doesn’t offer any information and makes all his answers short. Some folks are friendly; and, some just want to be left alone. I suppose he’s one of ‘em who just wants to be left alone.”

         Spam took a sip of his drink and continued. “You said he was packin’. How’d you know?”

          “Ruben, actually—for a drunk he notices a lot. Ruben said he’s packin’ a 45 in a shoulder holster. Wears it real comfortable like.”

          “What's your joint, Jocko? How come your place is home all of a sudden? It’s curious that he showed up the week after Kimberly began singing here. Have you ever seen him talking to her?”

          “Naw, I can’t even say if she knows he’s here. Except that if you go long enough not noticin’ somebody it becomes sort of obvious that you know they’re there. That’s the way it is with Kimberly. She acts as if he ain’t even in the place.”

          “There’s a connection there, Jocko. Question is, who is he and what’s his connection with Kimberly? And, I’m gonna find out.

*****************

         Kimberly sipped on her Manhattan. She drank only to be sociable. Alcohol was not her friend. Too many drunks and too many memories connected with drunks kept her from being a serious drinker. She had a drink on occasion to complete the social situation. She found herself alone at the table with Cassidy. The guys had wandered off on other business and would return later. She had fifteen minutes before her next song. Her seat at the table with Cassidy was safe. She allowed her mind to wander.

          “Is it hard to remember the words to the songs?”

         Kimberly turned her attention to Cassidy. She had drifted off during their small talk and discovered she didn’t know where they were now. “Excuse me?”

          “The songs,” Cassidy repeated, “do you ever forget the words? I’d be scared stiff I’d forget the words.”

          “Oh, no, they’re second nature to me now. I could probably sing them in my sleep.” She smiled and chuckled, “I probably do. Someday I’ll need to get someone to tell me.”

          “Jocko’d tell you.” Cassidy spoke before she thought. “I mean, that man has got a serious case for you Kimberly. He’s too old fashioned to let on…too macho. He’d love to watch you and see if you sang in your sleep.”

          “Jocko’s a sweetie. He’s a nice boss and I’m very fond of him; but, I never considered him as a lover.”

          “Well, just realize that Jocko see’s you in a different light. He’s a good man, Kimberly. You could do worse.”

          “Cassidy, I can’t see any man in my life now. There are complications. I’ve got ties that can’t be undone…not easily at least. It wouldn’t be healthy for any man to be in my life now—someday maybe, but not now.”

         Cassidy listened but did not respond. There was nothing to say. After a moment of silence the piano player began playing Kimberly’s first song. That was the signal that it was time to go to work. Kimberly found her place on the stage and began her songs. Folks stopped to listen; among those was a stranger with a gun at a back table. He made note of Kimberly.

*********************

         Dave Frisco leaned over the bar and asked, “Jocko, you seen Hummer? I’ve got some information for him.”

          “Sure Dave, he’s at the table up front. He and Cassidy are takin’ in Kimberly’s songs. You want something from the bar?”

          “Nope, Jocko, I’m workin’. I’ll take a rain-check.”

         Dave located the table and made his way over to an empty seat. He turned his attention to Kimberly whose sultry voice was well into “You Go To My Head.” Spam nodded at Dave as he sat down.

          “She’s not bad,” Dave remarked

          “Not bad at all. What brings you down here, Frisco?”

          “Got some information on your songbird here. Thought you’d want to know.”

          “Yeah, what did you dig up?”

          “Well, it seems that Miss Kimberly here runs with a pretty rough crowd. She’s a married woman.” Dave fished a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. He took a long drag on it and then smiled at Spam. “You ever heard of a guy named Checkers Malloy?”

          “Sure, Checkers is the boss of a mob family out of St. Louis. Came up through the ranks over a stack of bodies I heard. I also heard it doesn’t make any difference if you’re his friend or not; what matters is if you’re true to the family and if you can make him money. The guy whacked his own brother.”

          “That’s the one. Seems as if Kimberly is Mrs. Checkers; she’s his wife. She disappeared about a month ago. The Feds were lookin’ for her. I imagine Checkers would be interested in finding her too. If I were you I wouldn’t sit at any tables with her. Just being around her could be dangerous.”

          “It may be that they’ve already found her. She’s had a shadow on her every night for the past week. The guy hasn’t done anything but stare at her. Maybe he’s waitin’ for the right time—or maybe he’s waitin’ for his boss to show up. Is she clean?”

         Dave glanced at Kimberly as she sang,” She’s certainly not hard to look at. But, yeah, she’s clean as a whistle; we don’t have anything on her. The Feds are lookin’ for her to get information. You can imagine what she’s seen.”

         Spam nodded, “I can just imagine the pillow-talk. You know as well as I do that they can’t make her testify against her husband.”

          “My understanding is that the Feds want her to volunteer. They’re gonna promise her a way out. In exchange she tells them everything she knows about Checkers and his associates.”

          “I’m afraid there’s only one way out for her. I’m surprised they haven’t made their move. I’d advise you to watch her admirer over there. He may not be the one who’s gonna do it; but, I bet he knows when and where.”

          “Thanks, Spam, we’ll put a tail on ‘em.” Dave rose and dropped a five-spot on the table. “Put it in the jar for the Lady; she’s quite a songbird. See ya later.”

          “Spam?” Cassidy had taken in the conversation and was now distracted with concern.

          “Yeah, Doll?”

          “What about Kimberly, Spam? We’ve gotta warn her or do something. We can’t just wait around and let Checkers kill her.”

          “There’s not much we can do, Cass. We can warn her; but I suspect she already knows Checkers has her staked out. She can run; but she can’t hide. This here’s just as good a place as any. Besides if we get in the way, well, Checkers has been known to wipe out an entire room to get one guy. Best that we not be in that room.”

          “But we are, Spam. We are in here with her. And even if we weren’t we would do something. I know you, Spam. You’re not gonna leave her out there alone.”

         Spam looked long and intently at Cassidy and then said, “Damn, I hate it when you’re right. I always seem to get in trouble when I do the right thing.”

         Cassidy smiled at him and returned, “Yeah, but you do it so well.” She leaned over and kissed him on the check. He said nothing else.

*************************

         That evening, after considerable convincing, Cassidy took Kimberly home to stay with her. Cassidy lived close to Spam and he knew how to get there fast. She also had security provided by Smith and Wesson in the form of a 38-police special, which she knew how to use and would not hesitate to do it. Cassidy’s son Jerry went to spend the night with Spam. Wilma Knight would keep her eye on Jerry; she truly loved the little boy. He would have his fill of cookies when Cassidy got him back.

         The morning was crisp and bright; the air was cool and had a nip to it that caused a heavy dew to form across the lawn and on the flowers. Cassidy carefully measured out the coffee, adding a little extra for Kimberly. If Spam ever decided to take up housecleaning with her, she would have to get used to adding a little more, but Spam was a little old fashioned. He still believed in a kiss on the second night and a little time between the bases. Cassidy smiled at the thought. Who would have thought that Spam Hummer was such a gentleman? At least that’s the way Spam was with Cassidy.

         She plugged the percolator in and glanced out the window at the front lawn and new morning. Her heart froze. Extending across the yard through the heavy dew were tracks of two sets of footprints. In twenty minutes the sun would evaporate the tracks and they would be gone; but they were not gone now.

          “Kimberly!” Cassidy called out, “Come here!”

         Cassidy heard rustling from the living room and shortly Kimberly appeared dressed in her baby-doll nightie.

          “What’s wrong, Cass?”

          “I don’t know; but, I think we have company. Call Spam and tell him to get over here right now. I’ll get my gun. Hurry, Kimberly!”

         Cassidy ran into the bedroom and pulled the gun from the side table; she quickly checked the chamber and saw that all six rounds were loaded, ready, and waiting. She rushed back to the kitchen with Kimberly just in time to hear cries from the back porch. Men were scuffling; a trash can was knocked over and eventually the noise subsided. Cassidy put her hand on the door knob, took a deep breath, cocked the gun, and pulled the door open.

         Two men were in her back yard; trash littered the area and the overturned trashcan concealed the upper half of a man. Jocko stood over the downed assailant—gun in hand.

          “Jocko?” Kimberly exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

          “I spent the night here, Doll. I was worried about you two. I saw this character going across your lawn this morning and jumped him right here as he was opening your back door. You need to keep those things locked, Cass.”

          “Spam’s on his way; who’s your friend, Jocko?” Cassidy asked walking around the trashcan to get a good look at the guy.

          “I dunno; but, I’m gonna find out. OK you! Put your hands behind your head and close your eyes…Do it!”

         The man laced his fingers together behind his head and did as Jocko told him; he closed his eyes.

          “OK, Cassidy, go through his coat pocket and see if he’s got a wallet in there; an' get that gun while you’re at it.”

         Cassidy tossed the gun over to Jocko’s feet and checked the breast pocket where she found a wallet. She opened it and then the gasped in surprise.

          “It’s a badge, Jocko. The guy’s a cop—a Fed it seems.”

         The prone man spoke up, “I’m agent Fitzgerald. My friends call me Fitz. I’d appreciate you putting that gun away and then calling me Fitz.”

          “OK, Fitz” Jocko spoke suspiciously, “I’ll put the gun down; but no funny stuff. I’m not sure I trust you yet. What were you doin’ sneakin’ into the house.”

          “I wasn’t sneakin’ into the house. I was just checkin’ the door. We don’t want nothing to happen to you either, Kimberly.”

          “I see the party’s outside.” Spam put his 45 away and entered the back yard with the rest of them. “Let me guess; you caught a cop?”

          “How’d you know?” Jocko spoke up.

          “I’m a PI, Jocko…used to be a cop. The guy acts like a cop—dresses like a lawyer. That makes him a Fed. Besides, I knew the Feds were looking for Kimberly. If’n it had been Checkers boys, he wouldn’t be alone. Those types travel in packs.”

         Spam turned his attention to agent Fitzgerald, “Did I hear that it’s Fitz? Tell me Fitz; what you doing here?”

         Fitzgerald rose to his feet brushing debris from his suit. “I’m here to watch after Mrs. Malloy. It appears I’m not needed.” He glanced over at Jocko.

          “So, you gonna go back where you came from now?” Jocko asked.

          “No, I’m not finished. I’m still gonna keep my eye you, Mrs. Malloy.” He looked to Kimberly as he spoke, “But, I’d like to do it in a different way.”

          “And, how is that, Mr. Fitzgerald?” Kimberly asked, realizing at the same time that she was still standing in her short teddy. “Just how do you plan on watching after me?”

          “Well, I’d like to talk to you about that. Why don’t we go into the house and let me start from the beginning. You can put some clothes on and maybe I can have some of that coffee you were starting to make.”

         They could all agree on that; the group slowly moved into the house. After about an hour, Mr. Fitzgerald had described the witness protection program and formally offered Kimberly to be a member. It didn’t take much to convince her to share what she knew with the Feds in order to receive the protection she needed. In turn she would have to disappear—completely disappear. Jocko would lose a good singer. But that didn’t seem to matter to Jocko. It wasn’t the songs he had wanted around it was Kimberly. He accepted that was simply not to be.

*****************

         Spam walked into the tavern for his evening drinks. Things had settled down. Cassidy wasn’t with him tonight. As a matter of fact, since Kimberly had left, she didn’t frequent Jocko’s as much. She’d rather spend time with Jerry. Spam noticed Dave Frisco standing at the bar nursing a drink.

          “Good evening, officer. I didn’t think you drank on the job?”

          “I don’t; I’m not on the job. Thought I’d drop by and give you the latest on our friend Checkers.” Dave finished his drink and motioned to Jocko to pour him another.

          “Well, what’s happenin’ in the world of the underworld?”

          “You won’t believe what happened this morning. Seems as if Checkers and a couple of his goons showed up in our fair city. They were stopped for a traffic violation—stupid. The officer saw a gun on one of them and attempted to disarm them. It wasn’t pretty. They resisted arrest and even pulled their weapons. There weren’t any shots fired, but several squad cars pulled up at just the right time. The whole bunch was arrested for illegal possession of firearms. Seems none of them had permits in this state. Since they pulled their guns we also got them for assault of a police officer with a firearm and resisting arrest. Looks like Mr. Malloy will be spending time in jail while waiting for the Feds to build their case against him. With him in jail combined with the witness protection program, Kimberly ought to be safe.”

          “I dunno, Dave?”

          “Why’s that?” his friend asked.

          “Well, Jocko’s still out here. Don’t know if she’ll ever be safe from Jocko.” Spam smiled at his friends and downed the drink Jocko had poured for him.

          “Smart ass!” Jocko mumbled as he arranged the shot glasses behind the bar.