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It was a good starting point. It was the most information she’d had since pursuing her husbands’ killer and now, with a wide open future ahead of her, she felt more certain than ever that it was time to bring that painful part of her life to a close.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Ava wasn’t familiar enough with the people in the Seventeenth Precinct to just take records out. That’s why she had a sheet of paper folded into her jacket pocket as she rounded the corner of a quiet and dark Manhattan Street at 11:05 that night.

She’d found quite a bit of information at the precinct and had then gone home to combine it with the notes she’d taken from her previous research. She hadn’t made it home in time to tuck Jeffrey into bed, but she’d kissed him on his forehead before she left her apartment, leaving him in the good and safe hands of her father.

There had still been no sign of Frank.

She supposed it was just as well, considering what she was about to do.

Thanks to the night’s research at the Seventeenth Precinct, she had learned a small amount on a woman that went by the moniker of Ms. Zebra. She’d also found two mentions of a place that suspects had referred to as the Ash Lodge. previous records she’d collected at her old precinct had given her one additional mention. From what she could tell, it was a bar that didn’t exist, a speakeasy hiding in the secrets and shadows of New York nights.

She was taking a chance, assuming that if a man like Spurlock had a casino that he moved from place to place, then maybe he had a mobile speakeasy as well. The piece to figuring out where it might be came in the mentions of Ms. Zebra in the department records. Her real name was Madeline Zimmerman and she’d been a suspect in serval illegal gambling and alcohol supply operations. There were rumors of prostitution as well, but she’d never been formally charged with anything.

It had taken some digging and guesswork, but Ava had narrowed down her search for the Ash Lodge between two places based on the records that had mentioned Ms. Zebra’s activities. One was out closer to Harlem, in a district that had seen many businesses shut down and pretty much ignored and neglected by the public. The other was a small furniture shop on the western rim of Manhattan, a shop once owned by Madeline Zimmerman and then sold to a man named Al Freemont—a known associate of none other than Jim Spurlock—a little over eight months ago.

Ava eyed the furniture store now, from the opposite side of the street. She’d seen at least two people go in, entering through a side door. And because she’d seen this, she also knew that there was a man standing by the door. She assumed this meant the place was invitation only and that she’d need a card or password to get in. Ava, of course, had neither. But what she did have was a .38 revolver and a vicious right-hand jab.

She’s dressed the part, just in case. As far as she was concerned, she would not go home empty-handed tonight. She needed to close this chapter before stepping into her future and she was prepared to do it at any cost. The success of the Perkins case still had her feeling that anything was possible, which made it a bit easier to confidently cross the street in her skimpy, sleeveless evening dress. It wasn’t a stunning piece, but it had been too short for Clarence to be comfortable with her wearing when he’d been alive. It wasn’t exactly the same thing the flappers were wearing these days, but she figured it would blend right in with those setting out for a night of debauchery. She also carried a little purse, which held nothing but a few single dollars and her .38.

She hurried across the road toward the store, mainly because that’s how she’d seen others approaching—probably to avoid being seen by any late-night pedestrians or wandering cops. She did not let the presence of the man at the door deter her. Sheneeded to seem like she belonged there, that she was asked to be there.

The man at the door was rather large, the bulk of his mass hidden in the black coat he wore and the shadows of the slightly beveled doorway. He smiled at her in the darkness. “Hey there, darlin’. I just need the password.”

She tried the first thing that came to her. If it didn’t work, she had a backup plan.

“Ash Lodge.”

The man’s smile faltered right away, and he shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but you—”

Ava delivered a quick and brutal jab to the man’s throat. His words cut out but he barely staggered back. As a follow-up, she planted a firm kick to the man’s knee and then brought her own knee up in recovery, slamming it into his crotch. This dropped the man like a rock. As he swayed on his knees, fumbling around near his belt for a gun Ava saw glistening in the faint streetlights, she delivered two more punches—another jab to his face and then a stunted uppercut that caused the man’s chin and teeth to make a musical clicking noise.

The uppercut stung her wrist a bit, but it did the job. The bouncer toppled over, knocked out cold. He lay against the side of the doorway, meaning that Ava had to step over him as she opened the door. She entered and closed the door quickly behind her so no one inside would see the big, motionless shape at the doorway.

As she closed it, she took a moment to look around and found herself impressed with what she saw. She was standing in what looked to be a back room of sorts, with a large, open floor. Six tables were set up along the floor, and a long desk was pushed close to the back wall. The desk served as a bar, with several tall glass bottles sitting on top. There were kerosene lanterns positioned throughout, giving the place a soft and warm glow.Some were positioned on the tables, and one in the center of the bar. She took three seconds to take it all in, also making a quick count of the bodies. Not wanting to seem out of place, she casually walked in the direction of the bar. She kept her head low, but not low enough to attract suspicion.

She counted eight people in all—five men and three women. The men were dressed to the nines, wearing their best suits. The women were wearing outfits that Ava thoughtmightbe just a step above undergarments. They were beautiful pieces, but they left hardly anything to the imagination.

As she neared the bar, she spotted a ninth person. Another woman stood behind the bar, dressed in the tightest black dress Ava had ever seen. She smiled at Ava with full, red lips as she approached the bar. Ava smiled back, taking note that at least two of the five men in the place were looking at her. One of them, though, was far too preoccupied by the doll on his lap to take much notice.

As Ava approached the bar, she also took note of the thin, fluffy boa around the woman’s neck. It was colored white and black, merging almost perfectly with the dress. The black and white pattern wasn’texactlystripes, but it did bring to mind a zebra. Ava almost mentioned this to the woman, hoping to get her to inadvertently spill information, but she figured there was no sense in creating a situation where she might give herself away.

“Always nice to see a new face,” the woman that may or may not be Ms. Zebra said.

“You don’t get them often?” Ava asked, trying to play it cool.

“Oh, we get them from time to time. Mostly dames like you.” She smirked at Ava and said, “What’ll you have?”

Ava eyed the bottles and shrugged. “It’s been so long, I really don’t know. You choose for me.”

“Peach moonshine it is,” she said. “Made special by Mr. Spurlock’s cousin down in Maryland.”

“WhereisMr. Spurlock?” Ava asked. “I was hoping to see him…to thank him for the invitation.”

“Oh, he’s here. He’s just…well, he’s busy. Upstairs, I believe. But if this is your first night. I’m sure he’ll swing by to say hello.” The woman grabbed a glass from under the desk and filled it with clear liquid from one of the larger bottles on the desk. As she poured, it occurred to Ava that she had no idea if she was supposed to pay or if the invitation to this place meant that everything was on the house.

The woman slid the glass over to her. Ava was a bit shocked to find just how badly she wanted the drink. It smelled like straight gasoline but she drank in happily anyway. The woman behind the bar—presumably Ms. Zebra—smiled at her. “Burns, huh?”


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