I Went Down (NaNoWriMo Read-Along)

21 Dapper Jack

Jimmy had taken the girl off to some back room, and Cal was having trouble hiding his distress. He excused himself to consult with the band leader between songs and did not return to the table where Dapper Jack sat with the men that Jimmy had collected to celebrate his victory over Baccarat’s railway line and copper mine. Dapper Jack watched the Plainsman walk over to the bandstand and then back to the bar. Was he bedding the Ibai girl himself, or would he show some paternal feeling for any of the girls who made up the chorus of Minnie’s? Probably the latter; it was well-known that Calstin Delanton treated his girls better than most. Then there was the story of the dead lover, which made a good excuse for him not touching any of the female flesh so close to his hands. Perhaps he preferred men; he had some sort of friendship with the Vincent at the Hotel di Ferello.

The Pels around Jack had turned their conversation to the chorus girls, and paid no attention to the night club’s owner and manager. It was only empty, idle talk, for Jimmy had taken the only Ibai girl and by the look of them, the remainder of the chorus girls were all Angiers. The Pels had had plenty of those, and anyway, Jimmy was the only one with the power to snatch one off the stage during the show.

“Where’d that one with the long hair go?” Reinhold asked. “She was fine as a stiff breeze.”

No one knew, and no one really cared. It had been a long night, trying to keep up with Jimmy’s exuberant mood as they skipped from bar to bar like a flat stone thrown over smooth water. Dapper Jack excused himself to the men’s room.

Minnie’s had not yet acquired the luxury of electric lighting; one of the lamps in the bathroom had gone out and cast one corner into shadow. It would be another good while before electricity came to this corner of Delta Mouth, not until the railroad to the copper mine was repaired and they could get more electrical wire into the city. To bring it by boat was a further trip, and made it that much more dear. Then again, it meant more money to the dockside Pels that they could spend in Torgove establishments like Minnie’s, so perhaps electricity would be more affordable.

Dapper Jack looked into the mirror. The single lit lamp cast black shadows over the lines of his face, showing the circles under his eyes. He had been in the Mouth for so long that he’d forgotten how odd it was to have his hair cut short, even if it was mainly kept slicked back and underneath his hat. He took off his gloves and ran his fingers through his hair, breaking the hold of the hair cream and pulling the strands down towards the sides of his face. It did not look any better that way; it looked decidedly worse. Someone banged the door open and headed toward the urinals. Quickly, Dapper Jack fingercombed his hair back from his forehead and found a comb in his pocket to finish the job. When he looked again like a proper man of Delta Mouth he tucked the comb away, put his gloves on, and went back to table in the main hall.

Jimmy had returned. He was still in a high mood, but all his appetites had been satiated now. “Jackdaw,” he said. “There you are. It’s time we were back at the Princess Carylla.”

Another sleepless day on board the thrice-cursed boat. “Of course.” He picked up his hat. “I’m ready to leave.”

As they headed to the door and the hallway that would lead them back out into the world, Jack glanced back at the stage. The Ibai girl was not there, of course. Jimmy would have left her wherever he had taken her, the way he left a dirty dish on the table after a meal. Someone else would take care of it.

There were a few taxicabs waiting outside the club which delivered them to the harbor. One of the tenders was at the dock and they were back in the safety of the Princess Carylla in less than fifteen minutes. There were plenty of Jimmy’s trusted men aboard, dealing cards and pouring drinks at all hours. Unlike the nightclubs on shore, the party never ended on the casino boat. There was always someone ready to be parted from the contents of their wallet and so there was always someone on Jimmy’s payroll ready to help them, no matter what the hour. There were always men with knives and pistols and fists as big as ostrich eggs roaming the decks to ensure that cash changed hands only according to the rules that Jimmy had set.

The heavies didn’t look twice at Dapper Jack as he walked through the halls. He went to his cabin and pulled off his boots. Then he set his hat on a hook and lay down on the narrow bunk. The lanterns hung on the railings outside swung gently, sending lines of yellowed light arcing across the ceiling of the cabin. The day when Baccarat was entirely eliminated and he could sleep on land without any worry of a wakeup call from the likes of Loyce could not come soon enough. Perhaps there would be another reason to leave Delta Mouth, to leave Jimmy and go with Danick and Merritt to destroy every rail line, all across the Plain of Angiers.

No, there was no point in that work until he accomplished his goals in Delta Mouth. Baccarat would find ways to rebuild his railroad. He was probably planning something even now. He would rebuild something bigger and better, just as the Vincent had rebuilt his kitchen at Hotel di Ferello. The only hope was for Jimmy to win, to keep the economy of Delta Mouth centered around the port.

Jack turned over on his side and tried vainly to punch the pillow into a comfortable shape. The little Ibai girl probably thought that Jimmy was her best hope, too. That he would help her climb to a higher stage, set the sound of her voice into the grooves of a million records sold in shops from Aviva to Delta Mouth to Ibai and beyond. But Jimmy only wanted what she could offer him, just as much as he only wanted the skills that Dapper Jack brought with him. What set Jackdaw Dorsane apart from the girl who had likely lost her maidenhead to Jimmy that very night? From a certain point of view, the difference between them was as thin as the blade of a knife.

Jack put a hand inside his sleeve to pull out one of his knives and slide it under his pillow where it would be easily accessible. When he had put a blade through Baccarat’s heart, when the long iron tracks of the railroad were stripped from the Plain like tendrils of ivy off of a brick wall—then he would have no further need to work for Jimmy. Then he would go home to the Plain and never leave again.