Read Online Crime & Counterpoint by M.S. Daniel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: M.S. Daniel
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bebop. The Purple Gazelle, in particular, had an essentially Ellington panache, boasting a unique architectural flavor which drew her back to a glamorous era of silks, chauffeurs, and smoky refinement. To think, the legends of jazz whom so many tried to emulate had gigged here. Maybe stood exactly where she was standing now. Packing the house, night after night.
Suddenly, she felt a burgeoning of desire leap within her. A fluttering of excitement that jived with the gush of the fountain. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and she realized with shock that regardless of her father’s connections, she actually wanted this gig.
Of their own volition, her feet started forward, and she walked tall and erect, head held high with the kind of confidence she once exuded. Buzzing, she reached the Plaza-esque canopied entrance and pulled open one of the gold-framed glass doors with ‘P G’ etched in elaborate filigree. Cool, fragrant air enveloped her and drew her inside like a passionate lover.
The door closed with a quiet hiss, blocking out the noonday traffic. She paused in the marbled foyer to take in the exquisite décor. Everything was a rich shade of gold and purple. She admired the expansive, multi-level layout with all modern furnishings and floor lights in the perimeter.
From the entrance, she walked down three curved steps to proceed onto the main floor, which was depressed a foot and a half below ground-level. A rich, creamy marble with golden flecks spread from the foyer all the way down to the stage. She could tell it was the original flooring, buffed to a mirror shine. In her mind’s eye, she readily saw jazz era swingers caking the dance floor.
For those who desired to sit as far as possible from the crowd or the music, there was a narrow strip along the periphery, protected by a guard rail and level with the foyer. A dozen generously-spaced booths filled this arc. Tall potted palms and flowering plants interspersed the booths, providing exotic color, oxygen, and fragrant privacy.
In addition, a set of carpeted stairs from the foyer provided direct access to the balcony level, which afforded an exalted view of the stage and vast dining floor. Currently, it was cordoned off by a thick, braided rope with a gold sign that proclaimed ‘Reservation Only’.
Buzzing with nostalgia for an era in which she’d never lived, she weaved through the array of round tables, cushioned chairs, and curved booths, absorbing the details as she went. There were several stacks of both black and white linen sitting upon a few chairs; clearly fresh coverings for the naked tables. The black was for concerts, she deducted; less distracting for performers.
Reaching the middle of the floor, where the sun streamed down from the wide, circular sky light capping the dome, she noticed dainty slivers of light bouncing around. She looked straight up. A gorgeous, tiered chandelier suspended from the apex, roughly fifteen feet off the ground and just above the balcony level. She noted there was no table positioned directly beneath it. However, she was.
Moving on, her focus locked onto the large, shadowy stage. It rose two and a half feet above the dance floor and had a convex-shaped front – curved like everything else here. The wooden surface was honey-stained and polished to gleaming. The tall curtains, drawn to the sides, were velvet purple. She could well-imagine how dazzling it all looked when the racks of spotlights were on, illuminating and glinting off the –
Hold on. What was that?
She floated, as if in a trance, towards a short set of stairs that led up to the platform. The sound of her flats against the wooden floor reverberated through the empty club and then died away as she came to a complete halt. Positioned center stage with its mouth wide open was an 8’11” fully-restored Steinway model D concert grand.
Enchanted, she followed the piano’s gleaming contours with her fingertips.
Unable to resist, she situated
Suddenly, she felt a burgeoning of desire leap within her. A fluttering of excitement that jived with the gush of the fountain. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and she realized with shock that regardless of her father’s connections, she actually wanted this gig.
Of their own volition, her feet started forward, and she walked tall and erect, head held high with the kind of confidence she once exuded. Buzzing, she reached the Plaza-esque canopied entrance and pulled open one of the gold-framed glass doors with ‘P G’ etched in elaborate filigree. Cool, fragrant air enveloped her and drew her inside like a passionate lover.
The door closed with a quiet hiss, blocking out the noonday traffic. She paused in the marbled foyer to take in the exquisite décor. Everything was a rich shade of gold and purple. She admired the expansive, multi-level layout with all modern furnishings and floor lights in the perimeter.
From the entrance, she walked down three curved steps to proceed onto the main floor, which was depressed a foot and a half below ground-level. A rich, creamy marble with golden flecks spread from the foyer all the way down to the stage. She could tell it was the original flooring, buffed to a mirror shine. In her mind’s eye, she readily saw jazz era swingers caking the dance floor.
For those who desired to sit as far as possible from the crowd or the music, there was a narrow strip along the periphery, protected by a guard rail and level with the foyer. A dozen generously-spaced booths filled this arc. Tall potted palms and flowering plants interspersed the booths, providing exotic color, oxygen, and fragrant privacy.
In addition, a set of carpeted stairs from the foyer provided direct access to the balcony level, which afforded an exalted view of the stage and vast dining floor. Currently, it was cordoned off by a thick, braided rope with a gold sign that proclaimed ‘Reservation Only’.
Buzzing with nostalgia for an era in which she’d never lived, she weaved through the array of round tables, cushioned chairs, and curved booths, absorbing the details as she went. There were several stacks of both black and white linen sitting upon a few chairs; clearly fresh coverings for the naked tables. The black was for concerts, she deducted; less distracting for performers.
Reaching the middle of the floor, where the sun streamed down from the wide, circular sky light capping the dome, she noticed dainty slivers of light bouncing around. She looked straight up. A gorgeous, tiered chandelier suspended from the apex, roughly fifteen feet off the ground and just above the balcony level. She noted there was no table positioned directly beneath it. However, she was.
Moving on, her focus locked onto the large, shadowy stage. It rose two and a half feet above the dance floor and had a convex-shaped front – curved like everything else here. The wooden surface was honey-stained and polished to gleaming. The tall curtains, drawn to the sides, were velvet purple. She could well-imagine how dazzling it all looked when the racks of spotlights were on, illuminating and glinting off the –
Hold on. What was that?
She floated, as if in a trance, towards a short set of stairs that led up to the platform. The sound of her flats against the wooden floor reverberated through the empty club and then died away as she came to a complete halt. Positioned center stage with its mouth wide open was an 8’11” fully-restored Steinway model D concert grand.
Enchanted, she followed the piano’s gleaming contours with her fingertips.
Unable to resist, she situated
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