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The Jupiter was a perfectly respectable establishment, as far as Jason was concerned. The bar came packed with all of the usual: the latest drinks, plush seating, and, most importantly, a relatively well-known jazz singer. It’s legality was none of anyone’s concern; anyone who knew what was good for them kept their mouth shut, and, since prohibition, it had moved to an old wine cellar; now password protected on entry.
He had been running the bar- supposedly inherited from his father, although he’d never met the man- for some fifteen years now, and, now more than ever, business was booming. He knew the names of each and every one of his clientele, where they lived, and which drink was their usual. That was why it was a surprise when the stranger walked in.
The doorman had not immediately admitted him entry, but instead had gestured with a gloved hand for Jason to come over.
“Ya know this fella?” The doorman- Mr. Valdez- had looked the stranger up and down with suspicion, who’s eyes had settled into a subtle panic.
“Can’t say I do, no. Say, what’s a fine gent like you doin’ round these parts?” With this, he was addressing the stranger, who had dipped his black bowler hat to obscure his eyes.
“Just passing through.” The stranger had a thick Italian accent- like one of the folks he’d met a few blocks south- but seemed to have no problem with his English at all.
“Well-look- I’m sorry Sir, but this is a private establishment, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to keep passing on by. You know how it is.” The stranger sighed.
“Yes. Yes, I do. More than you could ever know, Sir.” Just as he was about to turn tail, however, a voice stopped them both.
“Wait.” Jason turned, and to his surprise, found his jazz singer, on her break. “He’s with me. I invited him.” Now it was Jason’s turn to sigh.
“Very well, Miss Levesque. Who is he?”
“The name’s di Angelo.”
“Very well, Mr. di Angelo. Come on in and join your lady friend here.” He gestured for the man to enter.
“We’re not-”
“We’re not public about it, is what he was going to say.” Miss Levesque interrupted. “People out on the streets ain’t exactly about to take too kindly to seeing a white man and a black woman walking around together, if you know what I’m saying.” And, with that, Miss Levesque took Mr. di Angelo by the arm and whisked him off into the crowd.
“Quite the couple, aren’t they? Bargin’ their way in like that.” Jason had almost forgotten Mr. Valdez was there. Almost. He kept pulling his watch out of his pocket, and, rather than checking the time, he’d turn it over to inspect the back, as though he was wondering how easy it would be to dissect it.
“You could say that, I suppose.”
*
The Jupiter closed at around three in the morning, and, tonight, like every other night, after saying good night to Mr. Jackson, the barman, Jason walked behind the bar himself to a pour a glass of whiskey. Tonight had been a relatively good night for business- while not the most busy in the world, several parties had stayed especially late (and had gotten especially drunk), making him a pretty penny- at least, enough to pay his rent until the taxman came knocking.
A clatter came from the corridor that ran alongside the bathrooms. That was the problem with The Jupiter being a converted cellar: the rat infestations seemed to never end. He supposed that this would just be another one of those nights. Setting down his barely touched tumbler, Jason made his way out into the corridor with a gun in one hand. The bang should scare them off- for now, at least.
When he opened the door, however, there were no rats in sight. Instead, he walked in to find Miss Levesque tied to a chair, with a gag in her mouth and a knife at her throat. di Angelo’s knife at her throat.
“Took your time.” Mr. di Angelo scoffed. “Deal’s simple. Tomorrow, we are planning on alerting the police of your little establishment’s whereabouts. Unless, of course, you empty your bank accounts and hand their contents over to us.”
Jason was about to ask ‘Who’s us?’, but then stopped himself. Of course. Mr. di Angelo was with the Mafia, and turning speak-easies in to corrupt police officers was just their latest shtick. Mr. di Angelo, however, was yet to notice the gun now tucked in Jason’s back pocket.
“And what exactly does Miss Levesque have to do with any of this?”
“She doesn’t. However, since she so graciously pretended to be my lady friend-” Mr. di Angelo paused, trying not to laugh. “-Your words, not mine, Sweetheart. I thought she’d give me some more leverage. Sweeten the deal. If you cooperate, she gets to walk on back home to her family.”
“And if I don’t?” At that, Mr. di Angelo mimed slicing Miss Levesque’s throat, who let out a stifled scream through the gag. He had nicked her skin- on purpose or not, Jason couldn’t tell- and the bar owner watched as several drops of crimson trickled down her neck and haulted at her faux-pearl necklace. Regardless, on impulse, Jason whipped the pistol out of his back pocket and aimed it at Mr. di Angelo.
“Well, I see you’ve made your choice.” Just before he was able to kill Miss Levesque, however, Jason shot him in the foot.
Mr. di Angelo fell to the floor hissing and cursing, reached for his injured foot and clutched onto it like a lifeline.
“Oh, fuck you, Grace.” Jason walked over to him, rested one foot on his chest, pointed the pistol at his head, and leaned in close.
“There’s more where that came from.”
Jason yanked the knife out of Mr. di Angelo’s hand, and, keeping the man in his peripheral vision, walked around the other side of the chair to set to work in letting Miss Levesque free, after having pulled her gag off.
“You okay, Miss Levesque?”
“Just about.” Her voice was hoarse, which he supposed shouldn’t have come as a surprise, since, the last he’d seen her had been two hours ago, when she’d walked off stage to a raucous of applause. For all he knew, she could’ve been gagged since then.
“Why’d’ya do it?” She turned to look at him in confusion.
“Do what?”
“Pretend to know Mr. di Angelo here.” He gestured to the man currently curled into a fetus position on the floor.
“Because, how many places d’ya think he’d been refused entry from tonight? Or so I thought, anyway. You’re a good man, Mr. Grace- you really are- but you will never- and I mean never- understand what it feels like to be turned away from an establishment just because of who. You. Are.” By this point, Miss Levesque had been untied fully, and she used this opportunity to jab her finger at his chest on those last three words.
Jason paused for a moment, pondering.
“I suppose you make a point. Well, get home safe, Miss Levesque, and take the next week off. You deserve it.” Miss Levesque said her farewells and saw herself out. “Now, what shall I do with you, Mr. di Angelo?” Mr. di Angelo coughed out a laugh, and Jason was surprised to see blood leave his mouth. Apparently, in his agony, Mr. di Angelo had chewed on his gums enough to make them bleed- and quite badly, too.
“How am I meant to know, Honey? You’re the one in charge here.” Jason turned to bolt the door behind him.
“See, if I let you go, you’ll just report straight back to your little family and I’ll have more men on my doorstep before I know it.”
“Quite right, there.” Nico had managed to sit up against the wall.
“But, if I keep you here, the cops’ll eventually find you anyway and I’ll be in even more trouble with them than I would be if they just found this place without you here.” Jason had begun pacing.
“And why exactly are you telling me this?”
“Just thinking out loud.” Mr. di Angelo laughed.
“Seems to me like you’re in a pickle. Suppose you could just kill me.” Jason stopped pacing at knelt down in front of Mr. di Angelo, staring directly into dark brown eyes.
“I. Am not a murderer.” Laughter again. Up close, it was clear that Mr. di Angelo was beginning to lose his balance, and wasn’t all with it, either- both likely due to the blood loss.
“Oh, aren’t you now? Not prepared to get your hands dirty and stoop as low as I do to save your sorry ass, Tesoro?”
“What is it with you and these pet names?” Jason growled.
“You seem like a reasonably intelligent man. Think for a second. I’m currently bleeding out on the floor, no one but you is around, and, even if I do somehow manage to get out of here, do you think the Mafia’s gonna welcome me back with open arms after I’ve failed?”Mr. di Angelo suddenly grabbed Jason’s arms for support and Jason was pretty sure he could see tears in the man’s eyes, although he was definitely not about to mention it. “I have no one else to turn to. No one. My Mother and sister are both dead, and I never even knew my father. I didn’t even have a home before I ran into the Mafia. If I don’t return successful, I’m fucked, Grace. I’m fucked. What, exactly, do I have to lose?”
Jason stood up, walked to the nearest bathroom, and grabbed a loo roll. He headed back out to Mr. di Angelo, removed the bullet from his ankle using the man’s knife and began to haphazardly bandage the wound with the toilet paper. Although initially drawing away in pain from the bullet removal, Mr. di Angelo did not seem to complain.
“Why the sudden change of heart, Sweetie?” Jason did not answer the question, but did, however, reply.
“Sorry; I’m no doctor. I do know one who can help you out, but that will have to wait until morning. He’ll almost definitely be asleep by now.”
Jason carried Mr. di Angelo out of the corridor and put on his own coat and hat before exiting The Jupiter and locking up. His glass of whiskey was long forgotten.
His apartment wasn’t far, which was a relief, because hailing a cab- especially at this time of night- would demand questions; the answers of which Jason was definitely not ready to give. At some point on the way back to his apartment, Mr. di Angelo fell asleep in his arms. To the bar owner’s surprise, Mr. di Angelo looked oddly peaceful, with several stray black hairs falling well past his nose, billowing slightly every time he breathed out.
When he was home, Jason lay Mr. di Angelo on Jason’s own bed, before kissing his forehead and tucking him in, now sleeping soundly. Jason slept on the sofa that night.