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i_read_what2021-02-06 12:19 pm
kalinara) wrote in i_read_what2021-02-06 12:19 pm
Lifeblood - Chapter Five
So last time, Jack's new vampire hunter friends went off to annoy his parents. He also ran afoul of some vagabonds at his old house, something that might have just been a random encounter, but maybe not. We also got a flashback of young Jack meeting Braxton the vampire hunter at the latter's bookshop in New York City.
So Jack makes his way back to Chicago, after stopping for the night in Indianapolis. He took appropriate precautions and the stopover seems uneventful. His first stop when he gets home is Bobbi's place! Yay!
Jack seems to be on pretty good terms with the staff at Bobbi's hotel, particularly Phil. The "house dick". I had to look that term up. Apparently it's a private detective employed by a hotel or department store. Fascinating. Anyway, Phil apparently isn't much to look at, but Bobbi speaks well of him. And Bobbi's badass enough that both Jack and I are willing to take her word for it.
So Jack tells the dude an accurate description of Braxton and Webber and an inaccurate account of their activities. He suggests they might pester Bobbi, which makes Phil happy. Apparently, "the only thing Phil liked better than bribes was kicking pests around."
Jack also bribes him with a "sawbuck". (10 dollar bill. A pretty significant bribe back then!). And in fact, "the only thing Phil liked better than bribes and kicking pests around was to be bribed to kick pests around." Hah.
So Jack heads up to Bobbi's. She has guests tonight, "fancy type", per the elevator operator. Jack notes that Bobbi had mentioned plans for a little party a while back, and that her idea of a "little party" meant inviting only half the city, not all of it.
I love that Bobbi has friends and a social life outside of Jack. And we immediately meet one: her accompanist Marza Chevreaux, who has a very vivid description:
She had well-powdered white skin stretched over her bones, and dark eyes, which were made larger and darker by a liberal use of makeup. Her hair was jet black, shaped like a helmet with thick, severely cut bangs that just covered the eyebrows. The rest was leveled hard against her jawline. If any single hair dared to rebel, it had been rigorously dealt with by a dose of lacquer.
She wore something box shaped and bright purple, with green sequins edging a deep neckline that didn’t suit her long face. The talons she affected were another bad choice, as they accentuated the developing witchiness of her fingers. They were painted the same color as her wide mouth: a deep maroon. I put her down as a case that was determined to look a young and sophisticated twenty no matter what her actual age. As far as I could tell under the war paint, she’d just edged her way over forty.
Marza immediately dislikes Jack, and vice versa. But Bobbi is very happy to see him. She also seems to understand that Marza is very off-putting without Jack saying anything. But she's a very good accompanist, despite her dramatics. (She'd never been at the club because Slick Morelli hadn't liked her.)
Anyway, Marza doesn't like the men in Bobbi's life, which Bobbi blames on Slick. She thinks Marza will come around when she gets to know Jack.
So this is a pre-broadcast party. Bobbi also will be having a post-broadcast party. Apparently, now that she's away from Slick's club, she feels like she's been freed from jail. Jack is supportive.
The party isn't THAT big, about six people in the immediate vicinity, but the perfumes and cigarettes are so strong that Jack only indulges in breathing to talk. There are two other notable guests:
Madison Pruitt, who is Marza's guest, a Communist recruiter who is "as bad as the Jehovah's Witnesses". Marza apparently brought him to annoy everyone else. Marza is my favorite.
The other guy is someone Jack immediately recognizes: the mountain of a man, Gordy. Gordy, if you recall, was one of the mob guys from the last book. He's also a friend of Bobbi. She explains that she wanted him at the party, but if Jack doesn't want to talk to him, he doesn't have to. Gordy will understand.
I like the boundaries set up here. Bobbi is not willing to give up a friend for Jack, but she's also not about to force him to interact with someone he isn't comfortable with. That's fair all around.
Anyway, Jack is on board to chat with Gordy, and promises to be nice. Gordy gets a description too:
He was taking up most of it, a big man with hard muscle under the tailored lines of his evening clothes. With short-cropped blond hair and a grim set to his lips, he wasn’t the sort you invite to liven up a social occasion. His eyes were slightly sleepy from the drink in his hand until he looked up at me. They visibly sharpened, went on guard, then relaxed into a pseudo-dullness. I knew that to be one of his defenses, that dull look. People expected a big man like him to be stupid. He let them think what they liked and consequently learned more about them than they cared.
They have a manly chat which I find entertaining:
“Fleming,” he returned. “Bobbi said you might turn up.”
“Yeah.”
“She says you’re taking good care of her.”
I wasn’t sure how he meant that. Bobbi wasn’t dependent on me financially, so he must have been referring to our emotional relationship. He was too polite where Bobbi was concerned to make cheap remarks on our sex life.
“She’s a wonderful girl.”
“Glad you know that.”
“And if I didn’t?”
“I’d sic Marza on you.”
Hee.
So Gordy and Jack chat about the club for a bit. Gordy's in charge of it now. There was a recent raid. And Gordy seems to make Jack an at least semi-serious job offer. (When Jack asks what kind, he says "what kind you need?") They establish no hard feelings.
Of course, the elephant in the room for this conversation is that Gordy was present during the confrontation with Lucky Lebredo. He knows what Jack is. They chat, obliquely about that too:
Again the long study. “You eat anything?”
“Not eat.”
“So that stuff’s true, that you only drink—”
“Yeah, that part’s true.”
“What about Bobbi? Doesn’t that hurt her?”
“If it did, I’d stop seeing her. Why not ask her yourself?”
“Nah, I couldn’t do that.”
“If you’re worried, just look at her, she’s healthy.”
He looked. She was in a corner talking and laughing with a white-haired man with a beard. “She’s not under some kind of spell or something?”
I made an effort to match his serious face. “None.”
He digested this. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure about a few things.”
“On the other hand, I could be lying.”
His head went back and forth in a slight wobble, his version of laughter. “Hell, kid, you ain’t no liar.”
I love that Bobbi has a mobster big brother who can take vampirism in stride.
After Bobbi introduces him to a few other people, Jack leads her off to a private place (the bathroom actually), where he gets to see her without an audience. They are cute and flirty, and about to get their vampire nibbling on when the phone rings.
It's not a big issue, but it does lead to a very amusing case of vampiric blue fang. Bobbi says they could just nibble in the bathroom, but as Jack puts it: it's like going straight to dessert and skipping the banquet. Aw. Bobbi decides to be a terrible hostess and "run out of drinkable alcohol" a bit early.
The resourceful guests propose a bar hopping endeavor and Bobbi and Jack promise to be along soon. Only to forget about it as soon as the last guest was gone. Aww.
Later, Bobbi confirms something I wondered a few chapters ago. She invites Jack to move in with her. Jack isn't quite ready for that. Which Bobbi accepts easily enough. (She admits she was starting to contemplate logistics: like what if the maid found him while dusting).
The other reason is that Jack is laying low for a bit. He tells her about Braxton and Webber. Bobbi offers to call Gordy and have him and "some of the boys" scare them off. And I love that Bobbi has a mobster on her speed dial.
("“Bobbi, my sweet, they are determined to track down a hideous, bloodthirsty vampire; a demonic creature of the night. Do you think they’ll be intimidated by a couple of gangsters with guns and brass knuckles?”
“Who said anything about intimidation? Gordy can just have their legs broken.”)
Anyway, Jack suggests that they might try to rescue Bobbi from his evil clutches. Bobbi likes his evil clutches though. He'll talk to Charles, which reminds Bobbi that Charles called and asked Jack to drop by when he gets in, no matter how late.
So Jack goes off to see the other part of my OT3 at nearly six in the morning. Eek. Sunrise soon. Escott is dressed in paint-covered overalls and there is plaster dust in his hair. He's been doing some home construction. But that's not why he called Jack in.
(After some banter about when Charles sleeps: hardly ever.)
So what did Charles call Jack about?
“This. I’m not in a position to judge. It will be for you to decide what to do.” Before I could ask what he was talking about, he reached for a folded newspaper and pointed to a circled item in the public notices. My fingers grew cold as I read it.
Jack, will you please call me. I want to talk to you about Maureen.
...ooo.
So it started running a day after Jack left. He thinks it's Braxton, but I wonder. This seems a bit sophisticated for that guy. Jack fills Charles in on events and notes that Braxton knew Maureen.
Charles agrees with me. He did some leg work, and the number belongs to a small, respectable hotel. The room is occupied by a Miss Gaylen Dumont. A semi-invalid old woman from New York. Charles notes that she might well be a relative of "Maureen Dumont".
I'm not sure we'd ever heard Maureen's last name before. I like that Charles knows it though.
Charles admits this could all be bad timing or coincidence, but he thinks not. He thinks that when Jack stopped his ad, people noticed. (But not the one that matters. Jack notes)
So Jack will investigate tomorrow. Unfortunately, Charles was planning to go to New York, but sweetly offers to postpone the trip. Jack turns him down, figuring he can handle one old lady.
Charles is smarter than Jack and notices the time. They move Jack's trunk and thirty bags of earth into the basement. Jack goes to sleep and the chapter ends.
So Jack makes his way back to Chicago, after stopping for the night in Indianapolis. He took appropriate precautions and the stopover seems uneventful. His first stop when he gets home is Bobbi's place! Yay!
Jack seems to be on pretty good terms with the staff at Bobbi's hotel, particularly Phil. The "house dick". I had to look that term up. Apparently it's a private detective employed by a hotel or department store. Fascinating. Anyway, Phil apparently isn't much to look at, but Bobbi speaks well of him. And Bobbi's badass enough that both Jack and I are willing to take her word for it.
So Jack tells the dude an accurate description of Braxton and Webber and an inaccurate account of their activities. He suggests they might pester Bobbi, which makes Phil happy. Apparently, "the only thing Phil liked better than bribes was kicking pests around."
Jack also bribes him with a "sawbuck". (10 dollar bill. A pretty significant bribe back then!). And in fact, "the only thing Phil liked better than bribes and kicking pests around was to be bribed to kick pests around." Hah.
So Jack heads up to Bobbi's. She has guests tonight, "fancy type", per the elevator operator. Jack notes that Bobbi had mentioned plans for a little party a while back, and that her idea of a "little party" meant inviting only half the city, not all of it.
I love that Bobbi has friends and a social life outside of Jack. And we immediately meet one: her accompanist Marza Chevreaux, who has a very vivid description:
She had well-powdered white skin stretched over her bones, and dark eyes, which were made larger and darker by a liberal use of makeup. Her hair was jet black, shaped like a helmet with thick, severely cut bangs that just covered the eyebrows. The rest was leveled hard against her jawline. If any single hair dared to rebel, it had been rigorously dealt with by a dose of lacquer.
She wore something box shaped and bright purple, with green sequins edging a deep neckline that didn’t suit her long face. The talons she affected were another bad choice, as they accentuated the developing witchiness of her fingers. They were painted the same color as her wide mouth: a deep maroon. I put her down as a case that was determined to look a young and sophisticated twenty no matter what her actual age. As far as I could tell under the war paint, she’d just edged her way over forty.
Marza immediately dislikes Jack, and vice versa. But Bobbi is very happy to see him. She also seems to understand that Marza is very off-putting without Jack saying anything. But she's a very good accompanist, despite her dramatics. (She'd never been at the club because Slick Morelli hadn't liked her.)
Anyway, Marza doesn't like the men in Bobbi's life, which Bobbi blames on Slick. She thinks Marza will come around when she gets to know Jack.
So this is a pre-broadcast party. Bobbi also will be having a post-broadcast party. Apparently, now that she's away from Slick's club, she feels like she's been freed from jail. Jack is supportive.
The party isn't THAT big, about six people in the immediate vicinity, but the perfumes and cigarettes are so strong that Jack only indulges in breathing to talk. There are two other notable guests:
Madison Pruitt, who is Marza's guest, a Communist recruiter who is "as bad as the Jehovah's Witnesses". Marza apparently brought him to annoy everyone else. Marza is my favorite.
The other guy is someone Jack immediately recognizes: the mountain of a man, Gordy. Gordy, if you recall, was one of the mob guys from the last book. He's also a friend of Bobbi. She explains that she wanted him at the party, but if Jack doesn't want to talk to him, he doesn't have to. Gordy will understand.
I like the boundaries set up here. Bobbi is not willing to give up a friend for Jack, but she's also not about to force him to interact with someone he isn't comfortable with. That's fair all around.
Anyway, Jack is on board to chat with Gordy, and promises to be nice. Gordy gets a description too:
He was taking up most of it, a big man with hard muscle under the tailored lines of his evening clothes. With short-cropped blond hair and a grim set to his lips, he wasn’t the sort you invite to liven up a social occasion. His eyes were slightly sleepy from the drink in his hand until he looked up at me. They visibly sharpened, went on guard, then relaxed into a pseudo-dullness. I knew that to be one of his defenses, that dull look. People expected a big man like him to be stupid. He let them think what they liked and consequently learned more about them than they cared.
They have a manly chat which I find entertaining:
“Fleming,” he returned. “Bobbi said you might turn up.”
“Yeah.”
“She says you’re taking good care of her.”
I wasn’t sure how he meant that. Bobbi wasn’t dependent on me financially, so he must have been referring to our emotional relationship. He was too polite where Bobbi was concerned to make cheap remarks on our sex life.
“She’s a wonderful girl.”
“Glad you know that.”
“And if I didn’t?”
“I’d sic Marza on you.”
Hee.
So Gordy and Jack chat about the club for a bit. Gordy's in charge of it now. There was a recent raid. And Gordy seems to make Jack an at least semi-serious job offer. (When Jack asks what kind, he says "what kind you need?") They establish no hard feelings.
Of course, the elephant in the room for this conversation is that Gordy was present during the confrontation with Lucky Lebredo. He knows what Jack is. They chat, obliquely about that too:
Again the long study. “You eat anything?”
“Not eat.”
“So that stuff’s true, that you only drink—”
“Yeah, that part’s true.”
“What about Bobbi? Doesn’t that hurt her?”
“If it did, I’d stop seeing her. Why not ask her yourself?”
“Nah, I couldn’t do that.”
“If you’re worried, just look at her, she’s healthy.”
He looked. She was in a corner talking and laughing with a white-haired man with a beard. “She’s not under some kind of spell or something?”
I made an effort to match his serious face. “None.”
He digested this. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure about a few things.”
“On the other hand, I could be lying.”
His head went back and forth in a slight wobble, his version of laughter. “Hell, kid, you ain’t no liar.”
I love that Bobbi has a mobster big brother who can take vampirism in stride.
After Bobbi introduces him to a few other people, Jack leads her off to a private place (the bathroom actually), where he gets to see her without an audience. They are cute and flirty, and about to get their vampire nibbling on when the phone rings.
It's not a big issue, but it does lead to a very amusing case of vampiric blue fang. Bobbi says they could just nibble in the bathroom, but as Jack puts it: it's like going straight to dessert and skipping the banquet. Aw. Bobbi decides to be a terrible hostess and "run out of drinkable alcohol" a bit early.
The resourceful guests propose a bar hopping endeavor and Bobbi and Jack promise to be along soon. Only to forget about it as soon as the last guest was gone. Aww.
Later, Bobbi confirms something I wondered a few chapters ago. She invites Jack to move in with her. Jack isn't quite ready for that. Which Bobbi accepts easily enough. (She admits she was starting to contemplate logistics: like what if the maid found him while dusting).
The other reason is that Jack is laying low for a bit. He tells her about Braxton and Webber. Bobbi offers to call Gordy and have him and "some of the boys" scare them off. And I love that Bobbi has a mobster on her speed dial.
("“Bobbi, my sweet, they are determined to track down a hideous, bloodthirsty vampire; a demonic creature of the night. Do you think they’ll be intimidated by a couple of gangsters with guns and brass knuckles?”
“Who said anything about intimidation? Gordy can just have their legs broken.”)
Anyway, Jack suggests that they might try to rescue Bobbi from his evil clutches. Bobbi likes his evil clutches though. He'll talk to Charles, which reminds Bobbi that Charles called and asked Jack to drop by when he gets in, no matter how late.
So Jack goes off to see the other part of my OT3 at nearly six in the morning. Eek. Sunrise soon. Escott is dressed in paint-covered overalls and there is plaster dust in his hair. He's been doing some home construction. But that's not why he called Jack in.
(After some banter about when Charles sleeps: hardly ever.)
So what did Charles call Jack about?
“This. I’m not in a position to judge. It will be for you to decide what to do.” Before I could ask what he was talking about, he reached for a folded newspaper and pointed to a circled item in the public notices. My fingers grew cold as I read it.
Jack, will you please call me. I want to talk to you about Maureen.
...ooo.
So it started running a day after Jack left. He thinks it's Braxton, but I wonder. This seems a bit sophisticated for that guy. Jack fills Charles in on events and notes that Braxton knew Maureen.
Charles agrees with me. He did some leg work, and the number belongs to a small, respectable hotel. The room is occupied by a Miss Gaylen Dumont. A semi-invalid old woman from New York. Charles notes that she might well be a relative of "Maureen Dumont".
I'm not sure we'd ever heard Maureen's last name before. I like that Charles knows it though.
Charles admits this could all be bad timing or coincidence, but he thinks not. He thinks that when Jack stopped his ad, people noticed. (But not the one that matters. Jack notes)
So Jack will investigate tomorrow. Unfortunately, Charles was planning to go to New York, but sweetly offers to postpone the trip. Jack turns him down, figuring he can handle one old lady.
Charles is smarter than Jack and notices the time. They move Jack's trunk and thirty bags of earth into the basement. Jack goes to sleep and the chapter ends.
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