Dollface: A Novel of the Roaring Twenties Read Online Free PDF

wearing a canary yellow overcoat, cuffed trousers, and a homburg. He was accompanied by two men considerably taller than him.
    As soon as she saw him, the hostess was on her feet. “Well, if it isn’t Snorky! How ya been, Al?” She held a sprig of mistletoe above his head and planted a big kiss on his mouth. She didn’t bother with the other two men. Draping her arm across the short man’s shoulder, she led him to the center booth that had remained empty all night despite the packed club. Obviously it had been reserved for him.
    The table of loudmouths dropped it down a notch or two when he walked by. I overheard one of them say, “Yeah, that’s him. That’s Al Capone.”
    “What’s he doing up here on the North Side?” the one fellow asked.
    “Capone’s a big jazz buff. He’s a regular here.”
    I glanced back over my shoulder. I saw the faint scars on his face, the thick cigar clamped in the corner of his mouth. Wow, that was him, all right! I had no idea this place was Capone’s hangout. He looked younger in person than in his newspaper photos. I remembered seeing one of him taken at a White Sox game where people were lining up to shake his hand, have their picture taken with him.
    Not long after arriving, Capone seemed to notice something with a start. He got up, flanked by the two big guys. My pulse jumped when I realized he was heading for Izzy.
    Removing his cigar, Capone said, “What’s the matter? You and your girls get lost tonight?” He gazed over at Evelyn.
    Izzy propped a cigarette between his lips and struck a match against the underside of the bar. “Just thought I’d see what you palookas were up to.”
    “Too bad you can’t stay long enough to finish your drink.”
    Izzy took a drag off his cigarette and exhaled in Capone’s face. I couldn’t take my eyes off his scars. One ran from his ear to the side of his mouth. The other was etched along his jaw.
    “Either show yourself out or I’ll have my boys here do it for you.” He gave Izzy the kind of look you didn’t argue with.
    Capone went back to his booth, but the two tall guys stayed with us. I glared at Izzy, wondering what the hell he was waiting for. In my mind, I was already halfway out the door.
    Finally, Izzy flicked his cigarette to the floor and ground it out beneath his heel. “This place is dead. C’mon, let’s go where the real action is.”
    “Was that really Capone?” Evelyn asked as Izzy led us outside.
    “Shhh.” I gave her a look.
    Obviously Capone didn’t want Izzy sticking around the Green Mill and I wasn’t sure I wanted Izzy sticking around us, either.
    “Ev.” I pulled her aside as we followed Izzy down the street. “I don’t think we should go with him.”
    “Oh, c’mon. Besides,” she said under her breath, “I already blew my taxicab money and at least he can give us a ride home later.”
    “Here we are,” Izzy said, pointing to the motorcar parked out front. It was a real sharp tan-and-black touring car with velvet upholstery. As soon as she saw it Evelyn gave me a look, her red lips growing as big and round as her eyes. We’d never ridden in a motorcar like that and while I may not have liked Izzy Seltzer, I was madly in love with his automobile. When he opened the car door I climbed into the back and Evelyn slid into the front seat, sitting as close as she could to him.
    I glanced out the window as we whipped past the streetlamps, empty sidewalks and darkened storefronts. It was late; the city had turned in for the night but we were just getting started.
    I ran my hand along the velvet upholstery, the leather trim. I had no idea where Izzy was taking us, but by now my reservations about him were replaced with expectations for an exciting night on the town.
    •   •   •
    I zzy took us to a place called the Meridian on the north side of town. It was a huge limestone building with a big red awning and a circular driveway filled with expensive-looking automobiles.
    As soon as we