Fool's Gold

Chapter Eleven: Into the Snake Pit

Hooray for chapter 11! :) I finally finished this chapter at 4:09 am my time so I'm pretty tired now that I've gotten off the writing train. I'm actually kind of proud of how quickly I wrote all of this so  I hope you like it. But before you read, I have a serious warning.

WARNING: Seriously, read this so I don't get reported. In this chapter there is a word used by the wonderful Mr. Capone that is highly offensive today. It begins with an 'n' so I think  you can guess what it is. I do not use this word and it has been placed in this story for historical aspect only. Keep in mind that the 20s were a time of racism against African Americans. Again, I do not mean to appear racist to anyone and this will be the only time that I use a word that is this bad. If you are indeed offended, feel free to just skip through that part of the dialogue. Thanks! -PuttingOnTheRitz

Chapter Eleven: Into the Snake Pit

Contrary to the popular lore and belief that has been spread about by highly reputable Chicagoans, the Green Mill is a place of  more back-alley deals than genuine entertainment. The entire joint is run by the mob- the singers, the hooch, the décor, and even the bartender must be at top condition at all times. If this is not achieved the consequences are high and plentiful from a group of lethal men.

Unlike the desperate hopefuls that plead with the hulking bouncer at the door, Florence and Leo are able to go to the front of a very long line, coolly ignoring  the threats and coarse curses that are hurled at their backs all the while.

“Aw, come on!” cries one flapper, a young girl with a choppy honey colored bob, bawdily as Leo knocks three times without hesitation at the door. She turns to her older  companion with a pouting innocence and whines pitifully as she hangs on his arm, “Let’s go, daddy. It’s all a waste of my time. I didn’t buy this Chanel just so I could return it by tomorrow without having a shred of fun.”

A pair of large brown eyes appear suddenly in the hole in the door after Leo knocks.

“Password?” a voice grunts hoarsely from the opposite side.

Leo smiles charmingly and removes a white card from his breast pocket. As he holds it up to the hole for inspection, the pair of eyes widen rather comically in an obvious instance of realization.

“I’ve an appointment with Mr. Capone and Mr. Torrio. If you would be so kind,” he says pleasantly, gesturing to the door in an unspoken request that it be opened.

“Certainly,” The Voice is much obliging this time. “And your friend, sir? Will she be accompanying you?”

Leo’s eyes harden and Florence watches nervously as they grow black as pitch. “I should think so, don’t you?” he asks dangerously, his knuckles quickly growing alabaster as he clenches his hand around her arm. His fingers dig into her skin in plain view of The Eyes and she know that there will be bruises in their wake  by the following morning.

“Forgive me,” The Voice grunts. “Welcome to the Green Mill, lady and gent.” The door swings open quickly and they are ushered inside. The man behind the door is tall and thickset with hands that look as though they could easily break a man’s neck with a single twist.

Leo keeps a firm hand placed on Florence’s back as he leads her deeper into the interior. A party is already in full swing and they must move with precision to avoid the wild dancers and waiters with their trays held aloft. At the end of the bar a small round table sits illuminated by the yellow flame of a flickering candle, perfectly positioned between the joint’s two doors.

As they approach the green felt booth, he hisses in her ear, “Play stupid and don’t ask any vital questions, understand? I am the single greatest thing that has ever happened to you and you don’t  mind that I hurt you because of it.” She nods curtly in agreement as he comes to a stop. The three men that are seated rise at their arrival, stepping out into the open to greet them.