Pier 17

Pier 17

The night was the same as every night, or so it seemed. The band was hot, the crowds wandered in and out sporadically, and the usual crowds were always there. Just as things were starting to really get busy a mysterious woman walked in dressed to the nines. She was as scorching as the flames from a wildfire. Her skin had been sun kissed, her hair was long and curled in a nice wave, her eyes were as blue as the ocean in the Caribbean, and man oh man her lips were a bright grapefruit pink that matched her gown. Her gown was dazzling with sequins, so much so, that when light touched it, she sent sparkles throughout the room. It was impossible for anyone to not notice her, the whole place went quiet the moment she walked in, all eyes on her, even the band began to play a slower jazzy song that made you want to work up enough courage to approach her.

She was surrounded by five very Italian mobster guys; they were definitely known around town. Anyone who was anyone knew if you landed in that crowd you better make sure you are in the up and up at all times, or you would simply go missing and never heard from again. No one questioned them, I mean no one. Even the police were somewhat timid around them.

They came every Friday night to Jazzy J’s. mostly for the music and the drinks. We nicknamed them because no one dare speak their real names even when they weren’t around. The tallest one stood at 6 feet tall, really defined cheek bones, dark brown hair, and he always wore a black suit and a red tie, we called him The Duke. The second guy was a short chubby guy, he was losing some hair on top, but he always had it slicked back, he had hazel eyes and always knew how to make you laugh, even when you didn’t feel like it. He was the kind of guy you felt comfortable around, so we called him Riccardo. The third guy was extremely serious, he was sort of the Godfather of the crew. He had a scar on his right eye, that went straight down to his jaw bone. No one dare look at it to his face. His face was so cold you could cut ice on it. We referred to him as Father Jacopo. The fourth and fifth guys were definitely brothers or cousins, they were certainly handsome and enjoyed women, booze, and dancing. They always had the hottest new girls in town, the best new suits, pin stripped, and fancy hats, they wore the whole get up. We called them Frankie and Dean, because frankly they sort of reminded you of the real deal; Frank Sinatra and good ole Dean Martin. They were cool, calm, and collected. Every guy wanted to be them and all the girls wanted to be with them.

They always sat at a huge round table in the back of the joint but it was in the middle of the joint. It was the best seat for seeing the band and being in the heap of it all. The dance floor was positioned in front of their table too, but a good distance if they were having a conversation you wouldn’t be in on it. The owner of the joint kept that table for them at all times even if they were not there. It made you wonder if they had blackmailed him or something. He was a cowardly kind of guy anyway, but he knew how to run a good dance bar. He was a little old Jewish guy that grew up down the street and never left the neighborhood. He had a family, so he worked hard to provide for them.

I had just gotten off work an hour prior and I usually stop in to see who’s there and try to figure out what the mobsters are up to. I work as a private detective for the police, and of course my task was to get in with the mob and find out what they are working on. We still haven’t pinpointed where they were bringing in money from.

There I was sitting at the bar, just getting ready to move closer to their table when the blonde promenaded to the bar right next to me. Man, oh man was I sweating but she was stunning. She ordered a Shirley temple with a shot of rum. I thought how peculiar it was to order a virgin drink and add liquor, but none the less I engaged and asked her about her drink choice. She laughed and smiled, “It’s a drink for the child in us”. She put her hand out so delicately and said, “I’m Isabell”. I kissed her hand and bowed before her while tipping my hat and I just spit out, “my name is Louie”. After that she disappeared back into the crowd, I searched relentlessly but couldn’t spot her for about ten minutes. I turned back around to attend to my drink when I spotted a little black book, she must have left it. Quickly I picked it up and slid it into my coat pocket. Made my way into the crowd, when suddenly the voice of an angel came on over the speakers. It was her; Isabell, I simply couldn’t believe it; she was part of the entertainment tonight. She began to sing an old Ella Fitzgerald song, ‘Someone to watch over me’. It seemed pretty ironic as she had the mob with her. The crowd was overcome by her vocals, her charm, and her whole essence. She must have sung ten songs before I realized, I had been frozen still in the middle of the crowd not even watching the mobsters. Finally, she stepped down and left the crowd roaring for an encore, I made my way towards her but before I could reach her, The Duke and Father Jacopo had swept her up. I headed to the john, to keep a low profile. I was tempted to open her little black book but, I didn’t want to invade her privacy. As I came out, she was standing across from me about to head to the ladies’ room, I said to her, “pardon me miss, I have your book you left at the bar”. She was overjoyed, and thanked me graciously. She said with a nervous chuckle, “I would hate to lose this, it has the line up in it”. I assured her, “it was no trouble at all”.

I felt completely relieved to have gotten the book back to her, without catching heat from the mobsters, because as I walked out of the tiny hallway by the water closets, there were three of them standing there waiting lady Isabell. Both Frankie and Dean were standing in the hall both; preoccupied gazing into some women’s eyes. and the third one standing there was The Duke, he was so frightening. I would hate to cross him in any kind of way.

I made my way back to the bar, when suddenly the whole mob crew and Isabell left very abruptly. I was trying to envision what the big rush was. I paid my tab and made my way outside trying to hail a cab, I attempted to catch up to them but it was too late. As I contemplated heading home. I asked the driver to pull over for a minute.

Just then, I saw her drive by in a black limousine. I had the cab driver turnaround and follow them discretely. They had driven up to a doc, with lots of extravagant yachts. I began walking up to the pier, when suddenly standing six feet in front of me was ‘The Duke’, he grabbed me by the arm and handed me a brief case filled with twenty thousand dollars, told me to keep my mouth shut, turnaround, and never speak to Ms. Isabell again. At that point feeling petrified, I accepted the brief case and turned around headed back to the cab. I went home and laid down, what felt like an eternity, I kept thinking about that little black book, why didn’t I open it. I had all the time in the world to open it. My heart began to race, she was afraid of me knowing something that was in that book. I realized they wanted me to follow them outside of the club away from the public’s view, they were definitely paying me off, but for what? I couldn’t figure it out. I replayed the conversations I had with her, she mentioned something about the lineup. I assumed as most would have that she was talking about her vocal line up, but maybe there was more to it. Could it be a hit list? A black-market deal of some kind?

I showed up to Jazzy J’s every day for three weeks hoping to run into Isabell again. I was perturbed to think something bad had happened to her and I missed the cry for help, maybe she left the book by the bar on purpose and I missed the memo to open it and read it. Suddenly, I hear a woman say from behind me, “I’ll take the Shirley with my special”. I turn around and there she was looking as stunning as ever. I looked at her and she shook her head no, as if she knew that I had started to put pieces together. She slipped a napkin under her drink; she walked away and left the napkin behind. It read in capital letters, Pier17 tonight midnight, come alone. I waited till many of the normal crowd wandered out of the joint. I hailed a cab and paid him to come back in an hour. I slowly made my way to Pier 17, it was quarter till and I was sweaty and shaky, I kept replaying my last encounter with The Duke, but I knew I had to risk it. At this point, I started to think she wasn’t going to make it. It was ten minutes passed midnight, when suddenly I heard her beautiful voice say to someone, “I’ll be fine, I just need to lie down” and then the car sped off. I can hear her heels clicking on the pier boards. I came out from the shadows, we made eye contact, she waved and I waved back. Suddenly I hear her scream, and damn it all I remember was feeling my skull smashed as hard as a brick being chucked threw a window and I begin to fall forward right on my dang face, lights out. Next thing I knew, I was on a yacht. I can see her tied up to a pole, sitting on a chair, her mouth is tied up too. I was hog tied and my mouth was stuffed with my cloth tie and duct taped shut, I was on the ground, it was dark and cold, and we were moving across the water very quickly. I scanned the cabin, there was no way for me to escape or even attempt to untie myself. Suddenly, Father Jacopo walks in. He begins cursing at me: “I thought I told you to never talk to her again”? I realized I had walked into something that I really didn’t understand to its full capacity. The Father began to speak again this time slower, he says to me, “I’m going to tell you this one last time, this better be the last time I see you”. Just then The Duke walks in, he picks me up and puts one of those circle floaties on me and tosses me off the boat like a rag doll. As, I struggle to stay above water, a party boat filled with young kids approaches, I yelled out as they passed by, louder and louder…