plug-ugly little guy, with a mashed-in face and eyes with no more expression than a chicken’s. He leaned a little closer to Dick. “You got a problem with me, you skinny prick, maybe you oughta talk to Bud about it.”
Dick stared into the lightless eyes of Nucky, then muttered: “Fuck yourself,” and got up and headed for the exit.
Nello called after him: “If you run into Ginger, tell her I said hello!”
Nucky and Nello laughed. Now a girl came over, all giggly and blushing, and asked Nello to dance. Wherever we went, girls flocked around Nello, like they were pigeons and he was birdseed. He got up with a shrug and took her out on the dance floor.
“Fucking Nello,” said Nucky. “He needs two dicks he gets so much pussy,” and then he said: “I’m getting a whore tonight, kid. Want me to get you one while I’m at it?”
“No thanks.”
“You know, I never see you with a broad. You ain’t queer or nothing?”
“Nah.”
“Saving it for your wedding night? At Niagara fucking Falls?”
I pretended to laugh. “Yeah, maybe something like that.”
“Or maybe you’re saving it for Darla? Or maybe you
ain’t
saving it for Darla. If you know what I’m saying.” And he laughed.
It was smoky as hell in the Moonlight Room, so I decided to get some fresh air. I went through French doors out onto a wide terrace and into actual moonlight.
A well-dressed elderly couple was strolling along arm in arm. Their hair was so white it seemed luminous. They nodded at me in a familiar fashion as if this was a regular walk they took and they were used to encountering me at this point on
my
regular walk.
A guy and a girl were sitting on a bench feverishly necking. The girl’s eyes opened for a moment and saw me in an unseeing way then her face disappeared behind his shoulder like she was a swimmer and he an overwhelming wave.
I walked across the flat stones of the terrace to the stone balustrade. I faced the forest. Sipped my whiskey. Looked up at the shaggy silhouettes of the pine trees against the moon-drenched sky.
I heard someone walking up behind me.
I turned and saw an uncertain smile and a glass of champagne, then one of the girl’s high heels caught in one of the stones and she tripped and pitched forward. I grabbed her arms and she splashed champagne on me.
“Dear Lord,” she laughed, “what an entrance! I’m always spilling things on people.”
“And I’m always getting spilled on.”
“That could make us a swell team. So do I still look like her? In moonlight?”
It was the girl that looked like Gwynnie, and: “Yes,” I said.
“My name’s Janet Van der Eb,” and she held her hand out and I shook it. “I’m also known as the Girl You Won’t Forget, though my won’t has an apostrophe in it, unlike
that
little ninnie’s,” and she jerked her thumb back toward the Moonlight Room, where through the French doors I could see Sally Layne still singing. “I think the illiteracy rampant in America these days is simply shocking, don’t you?”
“I’m Danny Landon.”
“Yes, I know. I asked around. You’re one of
them.
”
“Who?”
“The gangsters.”
“The gangsters?”
“Oh, don’t play innocent. Everyone’s talking about it. It’s extremely exciting. The rumor is that Lucky Luciano is here, or was here, or will be here soon. Is that true?”
“Not that I know of.”
“How disappointing. As you can probably tell, I like gangsters. I respect them. In the United States of Hypocrisy, they are our only genuine citizens. I predict that at the end point of capitalism, we shall
all
be gangsters.
All
be carrying submachine guns in violin cases, and taking people we don’t like on one-way rides. Oh dear. I am blabbering a bit, aren’t I? It’s the champagne. Mother told me to stop, but I just wouldn’t listen.”
I asked her where she was from.
“Philadelphia. You’ve heard of Philadelphia cream cheese, haven’t you? Well, the Van der Ebs practically invented it.
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