"Maris, believe me. When Allison came to me and said that her English prof
was leaning pretty hard on – trying to get her to sleep with him in exchange for
higher marks – I encouraged her to file a complaint with the
university."
"Nancy, when did she file?" "Just this morning, although the
harassment had been going on for several weeks. She was having problems with a
research project and he was willing to help. Too damned helpful if you ask
me."
In the quiet of the cafe, and this place, decorated in Old World charm with
its inviting scents and cheery fireplace, Nancy laid it all out. Maris couldn't
quite get over the fact that Norman was seen in Infrared a few nights ago.
Accompanying him was Amy Tyler, Dave's soon to be ex-wife. Then David mentioned
that Thaddeus Justin, the little old man who owned the curio shop across the
street from where Edy bought Dorine's satin gown, was also in the club that
night, but he kept his distance. He, according to David, stayed well in the
shadows, glancing every now and then at Xavier and Amy. He also watched Edy's
performance with a peculiar interest. It quite didn't make sense that these
three people would show up the same time. Was it merely coincidence? Granted,
Maris remembered Mr. Justin coming to Infrared on occasion, but his visits
became more frequent when David hired Edy and the girl became a headliner. What
is his fascination with Edy? Is he one of those old guys who gets off watching
young ladies strip? Or does he have some other motive? Can't be a sex
pervert...He surely doesn't look the part, then again, I've known some guys who
look so regular but they're really sickos...
"Maris? Are you listening to me? I said there are other girls who are in the
same boat." Nancy waved her hand in front of Maris' face. The women soon laughed
and resumed their conversation.
" I'm so sorry, Nan. It's just all this mess
with Edy and Dave...then there's this Xavier guy and Amy...I'm worried about
Edy, too, what with her insisting to reprise Dorine's act, and wearing
Dorine's old dress to boot!"
Nancy tried not to appear too emotional. All
these years never knowing who killed her best friend, now hearing Maris talk of
Edy reprising Dorine's famous striptease – in Dorine's incredibly sexy,
beautiful black satin gown – was just too much. Tears began to fall from her big
green eyes. Nancy was still a pretty woman in her early sixties. Medium height,
she was still pleasingly plump in all the right places. Those fantastic legs
still turned heads. The famous flaming red hair was courtesy of a thirty year
henna habit; the hair turned white back in her forties. Nancy took good care of
herself in her advancing years. No sunbathing for her, not with her ivory
complexion.
"Maris, I don't know what to say to that. Maybe I'll drop by Infrared
tonight, just to see Edy. I've heard so many good things about her. Is it true?
She's a killer on the violin? But why does she strip for a living? She should be
performing with symphony orchestras and making CDs."
Maris replied, "But,
Nan, it all goes back to Xavier Norman. He made sure Edy would never get into
grad school, or go ahead with her music career. Poor girl, to be so used by that
son of a bitch!"
"Like my Allison. You know he made those same threats if she
told. He told her, and I quote: 'You will regret double-crossing me. I'll fix it
so you'll never graduate!' How about that? Ooh, I can't wait to see that man's
face once the authorities catch up with him!"
******
It was getting late, and Maris had to cut short her confab with Nancy. Good
old Nancy, one of Pink Flamingo's strippers with a heart of gold. It filled
Maris with pride that Nancy made good with her life after burlesque. She married
late, had two daughters, and owned one of the best dance schools in town. No
strippers came out of Nan's place, only the best ballerinas and Broadway
hoofers. As it should be...
Looking at her watch, Maris realized show time was less than three hours away.
She had to be backstage in time to help the girls get ready for a gala evening.
Soon the place would be packed with conventioneers, long time patrons, as well
as a few unwelcome guests. David even ordered extra food and liquor in
anticipation of through-the-roof profits. Maris was sure Xavier and Amy would be
there, as would Thad Justin. Oh, how she wished David was here now; she'd tell
him the latest regarding Professor Norman and Nancy's daughter. Somehow, with
all on her mind, those vibes reached someone else, someone who would, at last
shed much needed light on a forty-year old mystery.
Quickly dashing to
Infrared's rear door, Maris barely had her foot in when suddenly she was
accosted by Clementine. The former blues singer extraordinaire, now eking out a
barebones existence, wanted to talk with David, however, Maris would do for now.
She trusted Maris with all things secret, and, in light of what transpired,
Clementine knew she had to speak up.
"I'm sorry to scare you like that, honey," she began, out of breath and
wheezing. She was a sorry state, at least to Maris. Clementine, once renown for
her dark, exotic beauty, now showed her age and poor state of health. The once
curvaceous figure was now pudgy and dumpy. Her face, often praised for its
flawless, polished mahogany complexion, was lined and weather-beaten. Her hair –
she used to 'press and curl' it so it gleamed like black satin, piled high and
proud in intricate twists and waves – turned gray and unruly. Only the eyes,
those fiery deep brown eyes, revealed the inner fire not yet snuffed out. Oh,
Clementine could still belt out a song, but the voice, a dark smoky alto,
deepened into a raspy, wimpy baritone.
But this was hardly the time for
assessing what was. Clementine had to unburden herself, finally explain why she
slid into a pattern of self-destruction.
"Clem," began Maris, "come on in.
You can tell me whatever once we're inside. But I can't talk long as we have a
big show this evening."
"I understand that, Maris, but I have to talk to
someone. This has gone on long enough. When Edy puts that dress on tonight, all
Hell's gonna break loose. I can feel it."
******
When Maris heard out Clementine, she was taken totally aback. Was what Clem
said true? She actually witnessed Dorine's murder but remained silent all these
years? Why?
"As I said, Maris," said Clementine, accepting the coffee Maris
handed her, "I was going to see Dorine, but stopped when I heard all this noise
coming from her apartment. I didn't knock on the door, don't know why I didn't.
Poor girl would still be alive if I did. I just hid on the next flight of stairs
then hightailed it out of there right after the killer left Dorine's
apartment."
"But, Clem," said Maris, who, in the quiet of her upstairs
office, still could not comprehend why Clementine did not come forth with this
information, "don't you know you could be charged with obstruction of justice.
The statute of limitations doesn't run out on murder. So tell me: why remain
silent all these years?"
Clementine, who by now was near tears, took a
wheezing breath and replied, "Honey, you know how it was for me back then. A
colored woman on smack. You think the cops would've believed me? They'd think I
killed her."
"Clem, you know that isn't true."
"No, Maris. Times were
different then. Why, I hadn't been up north too long. Back when I was growing up
in Mississippi if a colored person witnessed a murder of a white person it was
either hush up or get strung up for it."
Maris thought about Clementine's eyewitness confession, then suggested she
talk to David. "After all, he's buddy-buddy with Sgt. Hendren down at the
precinct. Why don't you, tonight, go down and talk to him. Maybe they can cut a
deal with you. And, since the real killer is still out there, maybe they can get
you some protection."
"Honey," Clem said, rising to leave, "I've said enough,
but if it's all the same to you, I have a better idea."
When Maris listened to Clementine's plan to trap a murderer, she was adamant.
"No! I can't let you do that!"
Clem replied, "But don't you see? With all
those people around, what can he do to me? We have to confront the killer
tonight, after the show."
******
Backstage at Infrared was bustling with activity. Edy, still at her makeup
station, checked her hair and lipstick. It had to be as authentic as possible,
right down to the expertly drawn eyebrows, the fluffy lashes, the crimson lips
and nails. She even piled her abundant hair into the same elaborate beehive
Dorine wore that fateful night. Still in her robe, she nixed putting on the
famous black satin dress until the last possible moment. A Schumann viola solo
wafted from the boom box. In a way the music had a tranquilizing effect; Edy was
that nervous. She left nothing to chance. No way was she screwing up tonight's
performance. She worked far too hard perfecting every step, every movement.
Mandi, all dressed and ready to go onstage, looked at Edy with a sarcastic
glint. "What's wrong, Edy? Why haven't you put on that dress? Scared it's
cursed?" She gave Edy a shamelessly catty smile. Her twin sister Candi leaned
over, saying, "Shut up, Mandi! Can't you see Edy's trying to get psyched up?"
She turned to Edy and said sympathetically, "Never mind my sister. She's always
that way. Look, I think you'll be a smash tonight. Why, I overheard Dave say to
Fred that the place is already standing room only." Candi smiled at Edy, adding,
"Hey, when are you putting on the dress?"
"Oh," Edy replied, "just before I
go on, right after yours and Mandi's strip." She still tried to stifle a laugh.
The twins were still at it, with their matching electric blue latex mini-dresses,
five-inch Lucite heels, and glittering rhinestone chandelier earrings. Their
routine was always done in tandem, right down to the pelvic wiggles and pole
dances. Every movement was carefully choreographed to give the illusion of
"seeing double".
Edy returned the smile, thanked Candi for her kindness then shot Mandi a
withering look. It would be another half-hour before her act, so Edy excused
herself from her company and headed for the lounge. Thank goodness not too many
people were there; they were busy getting ready for show time. At last she could
enjoy her bottled water, a magazine, and quiet time before going on. The dress
was to put on the last minute; no way was she mussing that up.
An obscure tune played in her head as she flipped through the 'zine, paying no
attention to the comings and goings, but she did miss Maris. Usually Infrared's
"earth mother" would come backstage to assist the girls, but on this night, she
never showed. "Must be too busy with the bar and everything," Edy muttered to
herself.
******
Showtime!
The pulsating bass of the sound system signaled the beginning of an
unforgettable evening. As Candi said, it was standing room only. Conventioneers,
regular patrons, even a few folks from the old Pink Flamingo days – most notably
Nancy and Charlie – sat in the choice tables nearest the stage. David busied
himself overseeing the entire operation. If this is to be his most successful
night ever, then he had better make sure things run smoothly. Service had to be
top-notch; no room for rudeness or slacking. Waitresses, dressed in their
provocative outfits – skintight black midriff-baring T-shirts emblazoned with
Infrared's logo, red satin booty shorts, and black patent pumps – scurried from
tables to bar taking and retrieving orders. The kitchen bristled with activity
as chefs and cooks whipped up the club's famous dishes. Maris oversaw the bar,
and, caught up in the excitement, put on a fantastic show juggling glasses and
liquor bottles to the awe and accolades of the patrons. "Something I learned a
long time ago, way before Tom Cruise* was even born!"
*Author's Note: Does the movie Cocktail ring a bell? :-)
OK, the usual opening with Infrared's famed chorus line, followed by the club's up and coming strippers – not stars yet. The real star was billed last, as it should be, reasoned David, who momentarily forgot his own personal problems. This, in spite of the hectic pace, was to be a fun night, one to which David looked forward with gusto. Too bad he didn't see four figures among the crowded club. One little old man sat in his usual spot at the far end of the bar, wishing to draw no attention to himself. Another couple cozying at a table in the back, away from prying eyes. And the fourth? That person didn't enter the club via the front door, rather coming in from the rear, preferring to stand in the shadows just short of the kitchen door but still have a view of the stage.
******
"You're on in five minutes!"
That was Brandon, an 18-year old college
student who usually worked as busboy, but for tonight, he doubled as part-time
stagehand. He banged on the dressing room door, telling Edy it was her time to
go on.
Wasting no time, Edy quickly doffed her robe and donned the daringly
sexy black gown. Now, she never tried on the dress prior to tonight, and she was
amazed at how well it fit. Standing before the mirror, Edy almost fainted from
shock. Reflected back was a woman of incomparable beauty and sex appeal. The
black satin gleamed in all the right places; the gown itself clung to her
curvaceous body like a wet cloth. It was that skintight. The same slit on the
side exposing Edy's delectable legs, the same daring décolletage showing off her
fabulous cleavage. It was as if she was seeing a ghost – Dorine's ghost.
Grabbing her gloves and white mink stole, Edy Smith made her way to the
wings, waiting for her cue. This was the performance of a lifetime, and Edy
wanted everything to be perfect. She couldn't let them down: Dave, Maris,
Charlie, all those adoring fans.
Taking a deep breath, she heard the
announcer: "And now, ladies and gentleman. Infrared is proud to present its
star. That lovely, delectable queen of the striptease – Vivienne Va'Voom!"
The lights came up, the music "Put the Blame of Mame" began. Edy struck a sexy pose; she quickly rehearsed a few daring moves, just to be sure she got the routine down. Suddenly the dress seemed to vacuum seal to her body. An eerie wave of darkness came over her. As soon as the curtain parted, and she stepped out onstage, Edy Smith was overtaken by something otherworldly. Whatever it was, it compelled Edy to relinquish all rationality, all sanity...
TO BE CONTINUED...GO TO CHAPTER 6!
Copyright©2003, 2004 by Pepper Shriver*
(P.R. Parker). All Rights Reserved.
*My pen name
:-)