An Evening At The Club Loreli

Started by Michael O'Rourke at Jul 15, 2020 12:01 PM
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36 Posts

Michael O'Rourke

Racketee, smugler, gun runner
110
?Years Young
79 Posts

"Do not mistake my friendly demeanor for weakness."


“The whole thing just sort of crumbled with Lenny’s condition,” Michael stated. “The thing about the last statement he made, I thought at first it was just the ramblings of a nut job, but I gotta tell ya this, if you know this guy, let him know, cuz I think ol’ Lenny knows something, and the warning’s real, whoever he is, somebody’s out to ice him.”

Then he laughed lightly, took a swallow of the scotch. “But what the hell do I know. So, you’re welcome, and not a problem at all.” She was a looker and he didn't mind trying to help her out. In fact, to some degree, he was interested in who killed Johnnie, not that he would do anything with that information other than passing it on, unless it actually threatened him or his associates.


Grace (Gracie) Stroud

Waitress
346
?Years Young
134 Posts

The song is done. The melody lingers on. You and the song are gone. But the melody lingers on.


O'Rourke felt it was necessary to warn Smiley about the very real possibility someone was out to knock him off. Gracie nodded, that was the nature of the gangland business alright. Very high risk. So Lenny might be crazy and his warning was bogus. But it might just be true.

"Sure, I know how to get in touch with Smiley. He laid low after Johnnie got hit. Well, after the cops brought him in for questioning about it. They had nothing on him. And I really don't think Smiley would have had anything to do with it either. So I can warn him then," she informed the man.

“But what the hell do I know. So, you’re welcome, and not a problem at all.”

The man was gracious about it, and it had been nice of him. She never offered him any money, he had volunteered.

"Well, guess that's it then. I learned something anyhow. Lenny's out of the picture. So you take care, Mr. O'Rourke," she smiled.

"Oh and if I can ever do you a favor sometime, I'd be willing to at least hear you out," she added, "You know where ta find me."


Michael O'Rourke

Racketee, smugler, gun runner
110
?Years Young
79 Posts

"Do not mistake my friendly demeanor for weakness."


"Oh and if I can ever do you a favor sometime, I'd be willing to at least hear you out," she added, "You know where ta find me."

He smiled up at her. “If ever I need a favor, you can bet I’ll be lookin’ you up. Been an experience though, I’ll say that. You be careful as well, Gracie.” And so it was the end of the search, well, perhaps as far as she was concerned. What he might do in connection to this mystery, he was not all that sure. There were other pressing issues he had to deal with.


Mavis 'Ginger' Jones

Businesswoman and accidental Radio Personality
240
?Years Young
13 Posts

"Ladies, do you ever worry about ... personal delicacy?"


Somebody else with pressing issues happened to be passing O’Rourke’s table that very second: an attractive, female someone in an elegant but practical grey dress and heels, juggling some kind of business case, a clasp bag, a cigarette, and a cigarette holder, trying to find a lighter or a box of matches and getting into a bad tempered, tobacco starved fuss about it all.

“Oh, damn and blast it!” she snapped, before catching the eye of a handsome and dapper man, sitting alone at the table.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a light, Mac.” She asked in a slightly weary contralto. “If I don’t have a cigarette in the next two seconds I’m going to jump overboard, or hang myself from the yardarm or whatever these nautical types do to try and end it all!”

She was joking, hopefully, but with nicotine slaves, especially ones who were having a bad day, you never knew.


Michael O'Rourke

Racketee, smugler, gun runner
110
?Years Young
79 Posts

"Do not mistake my friendly demeanor for weakness."


“Oh, damn and blast it!” she snapped, before catching the eye of a handsome and dapper man, sitting alone at the table.

The verbiage brought Michael’s head around to get the full view of the woman who certainly rated a quick appraisal, even if her language hardly fit her appearance. But then even the best had their moments.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a light, Mac.” She asked in a slightly weary contralto. “If I don’t have a cigarette in the next two seconds I’m going to jump overboard, or hang myself from the yardarm or whatever these nautical types do to try and end it all!”

She was joking, hopefully, but with nicotine slaves, especially ones who were having a bad day, you never knew

“Whoa now lady, no need of that.” His lighter popped out, open, and aflame. “Have a seat, let me get you a drink ‘cuz you sure look like you could use one, that is if you ain’t in a rush to find that yardarm.” Suddenly whatever issue seemed pressing moments before had lost their importance. This situation was likely to far more interesting.


Liked 1

Mavis 'Ginger' Jones

Businesswoman and accidental Radio Personality
240
?Years Young
13 Posts

"Ladies, do you ever worry about ... personal delicacy?"


“Whoa now lady, no need of that.” His lighter popped out, open, and aflame.

She bent over and sucked hard on the cigarette as it caressed the tip of the flame, and inhaled: just the knowledge that a hit of nicotine was on its way to her bloodstream via her lungs was balm enough, and she stood back up with her eyes closed, exhaling the smoke slowly through pursed lips, like she was kissing the relief-offering leaf.

“Have a seat, let me get you a drink ‘cuz you sure look like you could use one, that is if you ain’t in a rush to find that yardarm.” Suddenly whatever issue seemed pressing moments before had lost their importance. This situation was likely to far more interesting.

Mavis almost slumped wordlessly into the chair opposite O’Rourke and took another drag of the cigarette through the elegant holder. “I could murder a real drink, but I thought they didn’t sell that when they’re in port. I’ll have a straight brandy if they’ve got one, it doesn’t have to be the good stuff.” she said. The way she felt, a tumbler of turps would have done.

She looked up at him properly for the first time.

“Sorry, you must think I’m a complete alcoholic! I’ve just had a bitch of a day, pardon my French. My name’s Mavis, Mavis Jones, how’d’ya do!” she gave a sort of lazy salute rather than try and reach over the table to shake hands or anything like that. “And you’re some poor guy who came here to enjoy a nice meal in peace, I presume.” she chuckled wearily as she slumped back in the chair and took another puff of the smoke.


Liked 1

Michael O'Rourke

Racketee, smugler, gun runner
110
?Years Young
79 Posts

"Do not mistake my friendly demeanor for weakness."


“Hadn’t the slightest notion. We all have those days where nothing seems to go right. I’ve had that dinner already, and they do serve,” He raised his arm and snapped his fingers. “You’ll see. This is a swanky joint, all the amenities even in port, but a lot less than when they’re at sea. Or, so I’ve been told. No bottles on the tables.”

A waiter appeared and took his glass “We have some friends coming aboard. Once they are gone we’ll be happy to take care of your needs.” And with that he was gone, removing glasses from other tables along his route. It was then Michael a number of waiters were doing the same all around them.

“Well, I guess we wait. Hadn’t counted on a floor show.” He quipped.


Liked 1

Mavis 'Ginger' Jones

Businesswoman and accidental Radio Personality
240
?Years Young
13 Posts

"Ladies, do you ever worry about ... personal delicacy?"


“Hadn’t the slightest notion. We all have those days where nothing seems to go right. I’ve had that dinner already, and they do serve,” He raised his arm and snapped his fingers. “You’ll see. This is a swanky joint, all the amenities even in port, but a lot less than when they’re at sea. Or, so I’ve been told. No bottles on the tables.”

“Oh, all on the strict Q.T.” she nodded and winked. She was about to say that all of her days seemed to be ones where nothing seemed to go right, at least ever since her husband had died, but she checked herself. It wasn’t fair to burden strangers with her problems, and it certainly wasn’t much fun for them either. So, she put on a front of jollity.

A waiter appeared and took his glass “We have some friends coming aboard. Once they are gone we’ll be happy to take care of your needs.” And with that he was gone, removing glasses from other tables along his route. It was then Michael a number of waiters were doing the same all around them.

Mavis blinked and looked at O’Rourke.

“Friends coming on board?! What, is that some sort of a code? Are we busted? Oh, how exciting!” she laughed and took another puff of the cigarette. “I’m glad these haven’t been banned.”

“Well, I guess we wait. Hadn’t counted on a floor show.” He quipped.

She looked about, expecting that at any second a troupe of Keystone Cops would tumble through the doors and into the onboard restaurant. The man opposite her seemed supremely cool and unruffled by the event.

“You look like you’re used to this sort of thing!” she observed, not without a degree of admiration in her voice.


Michael O'Rourke

Racketee, smugler, gun runner
110
?Years Young
79 Posts

"Do not mistake my friendly demeanor for weakness."


“Oh, all on the strict Q.T.” she nodded and winked. She was about to say that all of her days seemed to be ones where nothing seemed to go right, at least ever since her husband had died, but she checked herself. It wasn’t fair to burden strangers with her problems, and it certainly wasn’t much fun for them either. So, she put on a front of jollity.

“The QT, right, now there is the law to contend with, and they take a dim view of liquor being served any time or anywhere,” Michael responded. “And I’m sure they drop in from time to time to make sure the place is on the straight and narrow.

A waiter appeared and took his glass “We have some friends coming aboard. Once they are gone we’ll be happy to take care of your needs.” And with that he was gone, removing glasses from other tables along his route. It was then Michael a number of waiters were doing the same all around them.

Mavis blinked and looked at O’Rourke.

“Friends coming on board?! What, is that some sort of a code? Are we busted? Oh, how exciting!” she laughed and took another puff of the cigarette. “I’m glad these haven’t been banned.”

“Well, I guess we wait. Hadn’t counted on a floor show.” He quipped.

She looked about, expecting that at any second a troupe of Keystone Cops would tumble through the doors and into the onboard restaurant. The man opposite her seemed supremely cool and unruffled by the event.

“You look like you’re used to this sort of thing!” she observed, not without a degree of admiration in her voice.

“Used to it? I guess so, been in a couple raids, but this place seems to have a warning system to prevent the unpleasantries of arrests.” He smiled at her. “ So we’ll be alright, even if it’s a raid, but I’m thinking it’s not, more of a visit.”

As if on cue, in came a plainclothes detective and a pair of uniformed officers. Of course, they would find nothing, but they went directly to a table a ways from Michaels, and there was an exchange. It became heated as the uniforms pulled a man from his seat and cuffed him. There were protests from his companions, but to no avail, the suspect was escorted rather roughly from the restaurant area.

Meanwhile, the others at the table continued to protest in strong terms to the detective who, without warning pulled a whistle and blew it several times. In the door came half a dozen uniformed officers. In moments all of the others were in cuffs and being marched out of the salon, the detective following close behind.

"Well, Dooley O'Brian and it appears, a couple lieutenants and their dates, are off to the graybar hotel," O'Rourke observed. "Small-time mob tryin' to muscle in on someone else's turf. Not a smart move. I like Dooley."


Mavis 'Ginger' Jones

Businesswoman and accidental Radio Personality
240
?Years Young
13 Posts

"Ladies, do you ever worry about ... personal delicacy?"


“Used to it? I guess so, been in a couple raids, but this place seems to have a warning system to prevent the unpleasantries of arrests.” He smiled at her. “So we’ll be alright, even if it’s a raid, but I’m thinking it’s not, more of a visit.”

Mavis had to wonder what the difference was between a police visit and a police raid, she could only suppose it was a matter of scale. She had the natural reaction of many people watching such an operation, she mentally checked her memory to make sure she hadn't done anything illegal lately - if ever!

As if on cue, in came a plainclothes detective and a pair of uniformed officers. Of course, they would find nothing, but they went directly to a table a ways from Michaels, and there was an exchange. It became heated as the uniforms pulled a man from his seat and cuffed him. There were protests from his companions, but to no avail, the suspect was escorted rather roughly from the restaurant area.

The businesswoman was frankly shocked: seeing someone arrested was quite unsettling, especially in such plush surroundings. She was beginning to wonder if the deal she was trying to make to broadcast the upcoming boxing match on this boat was such a good idea after all, if this sort of activity was the norm on board. Oh, the listeners would love it if there was a police raid, sorry, visit, during a broadcast, sure; but her sponsors might not be quite so impressed, and they were the people who paid the bills, they were the ones who mattered.

Meanwhile, the others at the table continued to protest in strong terms to the detective who, without warning pulled a whistle and blew it several times. In the door came half a dozen uniformed officers. In moments all of the others were in cuffs and being marched out of the salon, the detective following close behind.

“Is it still a visit, or did things escalate to a raid, yet?!” Mavis asked, distracted by the scene. She was aware that she was sitting there goggle-eyed, whereas the stranger who had given her the light seemed unperturbed: surveying the scene with a sort of detached professional interest.

"Well, Dooley O'Brian and it appears, a couple lieutenants and their dates, are off to the graybar hotel," O'Rourke observed. "Small-time mob tryin' to muscle in on someone else's turf. Not a smart move. I like Dooley."

“Dooley O' ... You know these men?” the pert brunette’s interest doubled, both in the scene and him. “Are you a lawyer?” She actually suspected he was either a cop or criminal himself, but didn’t want to plump for the former occupation, in case he was the latter. And vice versa!