The Coconut Club was a swing dance club. A mixture of money and fame walked though those doors. It really wasn’t Ken’s kind of place. He didn’t mind the music, but he liked dancing slow. Swing dancing really wasn’t his thing.
A sign on the by the door said, “Coloreds Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
He remembered something a while back about how when the Negro Vets came back, they weren’t allowed in. There had been a few fights and talk of building some clubs on their side of town, but white musicians didn’t want to play there, or maybe the cops didn’t want “mixing of the races” in that part of town. He thought it was more likely that, for the owners of the club, Green was the only color they really cared about. It never really mattered one way or another to him. When he worked CID, he saw just as many white criminals as any other color. And most of them were Officers.
He finishes another cigarette and goes through the door. The interior of the club is fake palm trees and coconuts. The bar has bamboo accents, but the stage is set up with a full sized bandstand. Tables surround the dance floor. He takes off his coat and hat and gives them to the girl at the check room. She gives him a ticket.
It is still early. The band hasn’t arrived yet, and the place is mostly empty. He goes to the bar and nods at the drink slinger. “So what’s special?” he asks as he pulls out a couple of bills.
“House special is a Pina Colada. But I think a man like you would prefer a Cuba Libre or a shot.” The bartender says in an accented tone.
“Actually, I’m working tonight. What time does the band and the singer show up?” Ken responds pushing the bills across the bar.
The tender pockets them and pours a glass of cola. “They normally show up around 6:00 or 6:30. But you won’t see the singer until she goes on stage. They all come in through the stage door.” He hands Ken the glass and nods to the door by the side of the bandstand.
“Is there a backstage? Dressing rooms? That kind of thing?” Ken asks taking a small sip.
“Si, But no one is allowed back there.”
Ken hands him a couple more bills. “I am just following up on something, and besides the Lady knows me.” He takes another sip. “How about I take that table over near the door, and when folks arrive, you have someone give the singer my card.”
Ken pulls out and hands over a card that just says “AAA Detective Agency, Ken Cooper”.
“Very good. Mister Cooper.”
As Ken takes the drink and sits down at the table, he hears the bartender talk with a waitress in Spanish, something about “Give this to the singer when she arrives” or something similar. He remembered a little Italian, but didn’t really know Spanish.
After a while, he hears some voices and movement from behind the bandstand.
He sees a couple of musicians carrying instrument cases and music stands, setting up on the bandstand.
A cigarette girl, without her tray, but still wearing her short skirt and nylons walks up.
“Mr. Cooper, will you please follow me?”
Ken finishes his drink and leaves the empty glass on the table, following the attractive girl, watching how her hips move.
She stops at a door and knocks. “Miss Julie, I brought Mr. Cooper as you asked.”
The door opens and he sees Julie wearing a silk robe. She hands a few bucks to the girl. “Thank you. I will take it from here.”
She opens the door, “Please come in Mr. Cooper.”
He closes the door behind him. “It is good to see you, Miss Schmidt. I have a few questions.”
She sits down before a vanity and looks in the mirror, putting on her makeup.
“I am glad, it is only questions. As I told you last time I saw you, I might not be a good girl, but I don’t want it publicly known.” She looks at him in the mirror as she applies a little blush on her cheeks.
“I saw in the papers, that you and your sister were at the Huddler’s christening of their son. What can you tell me about it?” He asks, sitting down on a stool.
“What do you mean? Mrs. Theodore Huddler gave birth to her son, and all of the society families attended the christening. But you could have gotten that from the society pages.”
She focuses on painting her lips.
“Yeah, that’s what I read, but something was hinky to me. I heard Theodore was a daisy, and not just that but maybe he enjoyed men more than his wife. So, I just want to know what you’ve heard.”
She stops doing her makeup and turns to face him. “Mr. Cooper, are you trying to blackmail the Huddlers? I had problems with Oscar, but Theodore has never been anything but kind to me and my sister.” She says in a stern tone.
Ken shakes his head and exhales. “You got me all wrong, Miss Schmidt. I saw the picture in the paper, and something didn’t add up. I’m just trying to make sense of things. Maybe Mrs. Huddler doesn’t mind her husband’s proclivities as long as he does his husbandly duties. But when I saw the picture in the paper, I saw a man who wasn’t happy to have a son. It just didn’t set right with me.”
Julie gets up from the vanity and moves behind a changing screen. She removes the robe and slips into her dress. Ken watches her shapely shadow slide into the dress. She is such a looker, he wishes he was here to get a piece. But she is no chippie, so he just focuses on why he is there.
“Maybe I am just barking up the wrong tree. I don’t have a case, so maybe I should just dangle.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette.
“Please don’t light up in here.” She says, stepping from behind the curtain. “Can you zip me up?”
Ken walks over, the unlit fag still in his mouth, and zips up the back of her dress.
“Sorry to bother you.” He says turning to leave.
“Wait a minute Mr. Cooper. You rescued me from Oscar, and kept quiet about afterwards, so let me share with you a little gossip. Karen, that is Mrs. Huddler, doesn’t approve of her husband sleeping with men. She wanted a child, preferably a son, and rumor had it she would do anything to get one. She was with child, or at least appeared to be, less than a year ago. That was about the time Oscar was trying to gain control of the company from Theodore. Hillary might know more. She and Karen are friends. But, Mr. Cooper, I want to stress, this is all rumor. Please don’t do anything that will hurt the Huddlers.”
He turns to face her, walks closer, and softly caresses her cheek.
“Thanks for the info. I’ll ring your sister tomorrow. I hope you have a good show tonight.”
He wants to kiss her but knows it will smear her lipstick and just leaves.
After he closes her door, he looks for an exit. He could stay and enjoy the band. He really hasn’t heard her sing. But looking as good as she does, that will just having him frustrated and playing with himself. So he might as well go back to his little hole in the wall.
“Com’ on baby. Just raise it up and let me lick for a bit, you know I play better when my lips are wet from you.” A man’s voice whispers from the shadows.
“Pete, can’t you wait?” A familiar voice whispers back.
“Babe, just a little. The guys are busy tuning up, they won’t hear.”
Ken stays in the shadows and quietly moves so he can confirm his suspicions.
Yep, he sees Pete, on his knees, with Joan’s skirt raised up. He pulls the crotch of her panties to the side and starts licking her pussy. “Pete, do it quickly, I don’t want anyone to see.”
Ken is a little surprised by it. He thought maybe Pete was going to have Joan suck him before he went on stage, but him licking her is unexpected. He stays still and just watches. After a few minutes Joan is biting her knuckle of one hand as she pulls Pete’s hair with the other. He looks like he is devouring her. She tightens her thighs around his head and covers her mouth as she finishes. Pete then stands up, grabs his horn, and rubs the mouthpiece on his freshly wet lips. Then he blows and fingers a quick scale.
“Perfect. Now I will taste you all night. Thanks Babe.” And walks to the bandstand.
Joan adjusts her panties and skirt. “He’s lucky I don’t wear knickers.”
Ken quietly walks closer and says in a low tone, “So, that’s what Pete does to warm up before a show.”
Joan looks up, finishing straightening herself. “Hey Boss. Sometimes, he needs a little something. It’s better than dope. I seen some o’ his band mates all jangly from whatever hop they score. If I’m what Pete needs and it keeps him away from that stuff, I’m good. So did you get a good show?”
“More than I expected. But you know us Peepers, we got to watch the action.” He jokes.
“So did you talk to Julie?”
“Yeah, she told me a few things. I will call her sister tomorrow. I might be barking up the wrong tree, but something still feels rotten.” He says reaching into his pocket for his lighter.
“Don’t light up back here, Boss. No ash trays. Either go back in or go out. I’m gonna watch my Pete. I love watching him use his lips.”
“See you tomorrow, Joan.” He says walking out the exit. The early night air is cold and clear. Ken lights up and realizes that he needs to go back in for his coat, which is still with the coat check girl. He tries the stage door, but it locked behind him. “Can’t win for losing some nights.” He mutters as he walks to the front.
(If you enjoyed Part 2, leave me a comment. Come back tomorrow for Part 3. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)
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