The Golden Room

'Tried him?'

'To be your jockey,' said Minna, rising. 'Edmund, will you help me down?'

On the ground alongside her nephew, Minna adjusted her veil and said, 'Let me introduce you.' She grabbed Bruce by the arm. 'Come along. I just saw Snapper playing chess with a stablehand a few stalls back. He's an old friend. I want you to meet him.'

Briskly, Minna led Bruce away, while Karen trailed behind.

As they approached the two men playing chess, Minna called out and Snapper Garrison jumped to his feet, abandoning the chessboard.

'Wait here a moment,' Minna said to Bruce.

She ran ahead to meet Garrison. He peered up at her, puzzled, until she held aside her veil.

'Why, it's you, Minna -'

'Shhh,' whispered Minna, 'listen. I want you to meet my nephew from Kentucky. He doesn't know what the Everleigh Club actually is and I don't want him to know. Don't mention it. And, Snapper, he thinks my name is Minna Lester.'

'Whatever you say, Minna.'

'Let me bring him over.'

Minna went back to Bruce and Karen, and guided them towards the jockey.

Bruce found himself confronting a very abbreviated, middle-aged man, with the wizened face of a small monkey. He greeted Karen with a grin, and was courteous in a brisk way.

'Snapper, do you have a mount for the Derby?' Minna inquired.

'You know I don't,' said Garrison. 'Except for workouts, I don't ride anymore. Over the hill, I'm told. Too old.'

'You look spry enough to me,' Minna said.

'Oh, I am,' Garrison assured her. 'I've never been in better shape. But nobody else here thinks so.'

'How would you like a mount in the Derby?' Minna asked.

'What do you mean?'

'Bruce here brought a three-year-old thoroughbred up from the Bluegrass Region. He has him entered in the American Derby. Unfortunately, he hasn't found a jockey who'll ride for a percentage. Would you?'

Snapper Garrison grinned again. 'That might be better than what I'm earning now. Still, I don't want to make a fool of myself.' He took in Bruce. 'Do you want to show me this colt of yours? What's his name?'

'Frontier,' Bruce said.

'All right, let me have a look at him,' said Garrison.

Leading Garrison, Minna, and Karen, Bruce brought them to Frontier's stall and gestured Garrison inside.

Garrison spent five minutes examining the horse before he emerged.

'A nice horse, a sound one,' Garrison said. 'His only problem is that he's small.' Garrison's grin reappeared. 'Yet, so am I.'

'You'll ride him?' said Bruce excitedly.

'Oh, sure,' said Snapper Garrison. 'I'll ride him. But I'll tell you one thing. Unless there's hot weather – the hottest May weather – the day of the Derby, he won't have a chance.'

'And if it's a hot day?'

'He'll have a chance,' said Garrison enigmatically. 'I was peeking at my Farmer's Almanac last week. It says the day of the Derby will be a hot day. So let's wait and see.'

Mayor Carter Harrison sat stiffly behind his desk in City Hall, still smarting from the unpleasant meeting he'd had two hours ago.

The pressure for reform had become unbearable.

Awaiting his next visitor, he mentally reviewed the high points of this morning's confrontation.

The confrontation had been with the thin-lipped, dour Reverend John Stonehill, president of the Municipal Voters' League.

'You know why I am here, Mayor,' Stonehill had begun, almost before being seated.

Harrison had suspected the reason behind the reverend's request for a talk, but he had not been ready to admit it. 'To be truthful, I'm not certain why you wished to see me.'

'Reform,' Stonehill had blurted. 'Your key campaign promise was that you would eliminate vice in this city, especially in the Levee, and you promised specifically that you would close down the Everleigh Club, which has come to symbolize the worst of Chicago, throughout the nation and the world. On the basis of your promise to instigate reform, the entire Municipal Voters' League stood behind you and elected you to office. Mr Mayor, we've waited patiently. We see not one single shred of evidence that cleanup has begun.'

Harrison had cleared his throat. 'Reverend Stonehill, I assure you I have been most active in the area of reform, mainly in my effort to close down the Everleigh Club as an example and warning to all the other lesser houses of ill fame.'

'I see no evidence of movement. I have information that the Everleigh Club is as wide open as ever.'

'Not quite,' the mayor had insisted, 'not really. Fewer men are going there, and the Everleighs claim to be operating only a restaurant. Nevertheless, I too suspect a degree of illegal sexual activity still goes on there. To date I've been unable to prove it and I must have proof. However, I will confide in you that right now I have an undercover observer there who will bring me indisputable proof of illegal sexual acts. Once I have this proof my chief of police will be able to close the Club. The rest of the clubs will then see the handwriting on

the wall. They'll also close down and move to other cities. Trust me, Reverend Stonehill.'

'I trust your sincerity,' the Reverend Stonehill had said, 'but I distrust your competence in this matter.'

'I can only say I have been handling this competently.'

Stonehill had come to his feet. 'We shall see. We will wait another few weeks for affirmative results. If you still have not fulfilled your campaign promises, I shall – the entire League shall – petition for your resignation.'

On that threat, the reverend had departed and the mayor had been left to stew over the matter.

Presently, he had acted. Fearing that his own voice might be recognizable, he had ordered a member of his staff to telephone Calumet 412, the well-known Everleigh Club number. It was blatantly listed in the telephone directory under the name of Aida Everleigh. The aide had been told to get hold of Karen Grant personally and tell her to come to the mayor's office as soon as possible. She had said she would be there in an hour.

That had been an hour ago, and Mayor Harrison was becoming increasingly restless when Karen Grant came into the room.

Harrison wasted no time. 'Sit down, Karen. We've got to have a straight talk.'

She sat down, but Harrison remained standing.

'If you want to talk about the Everleigh Club I have nothing new to report.'

'Indeed that is what I want to talk about. Before lunch I had Reverend Stonehill of the Municipal Voters' League in here. He's demanding I deliver on my campaign promise of reform. If I fail, he's going to have the League pressure me to resign.'

'You can't do that -'

'I won't have to,' Harrison said, 'if I can get faster results from you.'

'I'm doing the best I can, Mayor.'

'It's not enough.' He paced agitatedly. 'Have you seen or do you know of any sexual activity in the Everleigh Club? That's the question.'

'I simply don't have an answer yet,' Karen pleaded. 'The sisters have only their restaurant open. I'm one of six hostesses. The other girls have been put up in neighbourhood hotels. The Club will remain closed this week and next until the Everleighs' niece is safely married and gone off on her honeymoon. When the Club reopens I can get the proof you're waiting for.'

'That's too long to wait. Isn't there a nephew here, also?'

'Yes, there is. Bruce Lester.'

'What about him?' the mayor wanted to know. 'Maybe he'd give you some evidence that his aunts are really madams.'

'Oh, him. God, no. Bruce thinks they're socialites with a big house. Forget about Bruce.'

The mayor eyed Karen keenly. 'He's Bruce to you, I see. I gather you've become acquainted.'

'Naturally. There are only a handful of us in the Club.'