Hollywood (Jan - Oct 1934)

Joan was a gangster's sweetheart but she didn't know the meaning ever died from platinum poisoning. Joan, you're a ga-ga type, and the ga-gas are going very big this season — worse luck for gals built on my lines." Tex held out her heavy braceleted arms for inspection. '"Someday these will look awfully snappy around the old ladies' home. And remember I didn't get them for shaking my head sideways. Now do you still want to give this back to that old sap?" "Yes, Tex, I do." "Well, that's one for Ripley," said the night club hostess with a gesture of despair. • Joan had told the truth when she said that she did not know Frank Rocci whose influence had placed her in the notorious establishment conducted by the equally notorious Tex Kaley. She remembered as a child that Frank had been a friend of her elder sister, that he was regarded as one of the bad boys of the neighborhood and that there had been rumors of his traveling with a gang of racketeers. But she did not know that he had developed into one of the most powerful gangsters in Manhattan, that he was none other than president of the "Poultry Protective Association" which levelled a sizeable assessment on dealers in poultry who wished to assure the safe delivery of their fowl. Esther had asked Frank to place her sister in some show and for various reasons Frank's word was law in the Tex Kaley establishment. Joan was well set as one of the club cuties when Rocci and Chuck, his ever-present bodyguard, along with Sybil Smith, Chuck's sweetie, dropped in to see the floor show. Rocci paid no attention to the idle conversation of his companions, his entire interest being centered on the girl at the end of the line. Presently Tex came to their table. "Hello, Tex," Rocci exclaimed. "Say, -who's that kid on the end?" Tex was half of the opinion that he was spoofing. "I've been wondering ever since you sent her around," she said. "Old Judge Richie wanted to give her a service stripe in the form of a bracelet but she passed it up, poor little simp. You ought at least to know her name seeing that you sent her here." Rocci regarded the girl with increased attention. "So that's Joan Whelan, is it? I thought she didn't look like one of your girls." Tex sat up straight and placed one hand on her hip. "Please, Mr. Rocci, my reputation." "Never mind about your reputation, send Joan over here after this number." • Flushed and animated, her brown eyes sparkling with friendliness, Joan seated herself beside Rocci. "I wasn't sure it was you, Frank. It's so long since I've seen you, years and years." "How about a little drink to start us off right?" Rocci replied with a smile. "No, thanks," said Joan. "I wanted so much to see you and to thank you for all you've done." Frank surveyed the girl appraisingly, an expression of approval in his eyes. "Supposing you get your street things and we'll go places." Rocci's idea of going places was a limousine drive to his garishly ornate apartment where neither the walls nor the Japanese butler were in the habit of telling tales. In the racketeer's simple philosophy of life, bachelor apartments were primarily for the entertainment of attractive young women who nodded their heads up and down instead of from side to side. • Unaccustomed to the etiquette of visiting a man's apartment in the small hours of the morning. Joan laughed nervously as she heard the door click behind her and found herself in a garishly furnished room which, among other things, contained a combination radio and bar and a double bed. Throwing off her wrap she saton the bed unconsciously showing a delicately curved leg, as she chattered amiably about her girlhood days and how much she liked the night club. She even told Frank about Judge Richie and the bracelet. He turned from the bar where he was mixing Martini cocktails and looked at Joan sharply. "And you returned the stuff, you say?" "Sure I returned it." "That's O. K.," said Frank. He switched on the radio and carried the cocktails over to the '':.■_* Love, as she had never known it before, came to Joan when she met Clark Brian, the famous crooner Clark met the gangster's deadly stare with unflinching courage. Death ivas preferable to loss of the girl he loved 26 HOLLYWOOD