‘I don’t imagine she’s best pleased to hear that,’ said Skins with a grin.
‘No, sir. She’s making rather a scene. Would you . . . Could you . . . ?’
‘I’ll see to it, Cuthbert,’ said Danny. ‘Come on, chaps. Let’s go and meet this wife of yours.’
They found Ellie glowering in the entrance hall. She caught sight of Skins and Dunn and, having checked that no one else was looking, gave them a grin and a wink before rearranging her face into an angry scowl.
‘Now then, Cuthbert old chap, what seems to be the problem?’ said Danny as he approached the porter’s desk.
‘It’s this . . . lady, Mr Daniels. She’s making a scene.’
‘I am doing no such thing,’ said Ellie. ‘I am merely trying to do my job.’
‘There you are, then, Cuthbert,’ said Danny. ‘The lady’s just trying to do her job. Surely there’s no need for all this fuss.’
‘But she claims that she’s the band’s manager, sir.’
‘And you dispute this claim?’
‘Beg pardon, sir?’
‘Do you doubt that Mrs Maloney is the manager of the Dizzy Heights?’
‘Well, sir, not if you and the . . . musicians say she is. But she’s . . .’
‘She’s what, Cuthbert? American? I can see how that might flummox you.’
‘No, sir, not American. She’s . . . It’s just that they’re not allowed in the club. Strict rules.’
‘Rule seventeen, paragraph two, I believe, states that women shall be admitted to club premises for social events approved by the committee, and “when their presence has been previously agreed by the committee, provided that they be vouched for by a full member of the club”. I vouch for Mrs Maloney.’
‘But her presence hasn’t been agreed by the committee,’ said the porter with a note of triumph.
‘Has not the committee approved the presence of all members of the jazz band known professionally as the Dizzy Heights?’ said Danny. ‘I believe I read that in the committee minutes. In which case Mrs Maloney, as a vital member of the band’s organization, is a welcome guest. I’ll sign her in, shall I?’
The porter reluctantly pushed the visitors’ book across the counter and handed Danny a pen.
‘Thank you, Cuthbert,’ he said once he had entered the relevant details and signed his name with an extravagant flourish. ‘You’re doing a wonderful job.’
The porter scowled and took back his pen.
‘Do come in, Mrs Maloney,’ said Danny. ‘I’m sure you’d like to check that the band’s equipment has been set up properly for this evening’s lesson.’
Ellie took his arm as he set off in the direction of the ballroom, with Skins and Dunn trailing behind.
Chapter Eight
Setting up in the ballroom at the Aristippus Club had become routine. It was still far too early for the rest of the band to have arrived, but Skins and Dunn had two willing helpers in Danny and Ellie and were able to get everything in place without even the slightest amount of fuss.
While ‘the best rhythm section in London’ were fastidiously tweaking their instruments, Ellie sat down with Danny.
‘It’s quite a place, this,’ she said. ‘Have you been a member long?’
‘Not too long, no. Nominated by an old pal of my father’s as part of some sort of recruitment drive. Trying to get some new blood in the place.’
‘It must be lovely to have somewhere to go where you know you’ll find some friendly faces. I have plenty of buddies but I haven’t really had that feeling of “belonging” since I was a nurse in the war. I kinda miss it.’
‘Fanny or Very Adorable Darling?’
‘I was a Fanny – shut up, Ivor – they got me before I’d heard of the Voluntary Aid Detachment. Where did you serve?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t like to talk about the war. Prefer to put it all behind me.’
‘I can understand that,’ said Ellie. ‘There’s a lot more to be gained from looking forward than looking back. Although . . . well, I don’t suppose you know anything about’ – she looked around, as though checking that they couldn’t be overheard – ‘the Treasure of the Mayfair Murderer?’
Danny laughed. ‘You’ve heard about that, too, eh? Before we got embroiled in this dance contest brouhaha it was all the Alphabet Gang could talk about some days. Secret vaults, club regalia. I swear they were all gaga.’
‘You don’t believe in it, then?’
‘Not a word,’ he said. ‘It’s exactly the sort of old nonsense some joker at a club like this would have made up a hundred years ago for a lark.’ He laughed again. ‘Secret treasure.’ He shook his head.
‘Ah, well,’ said Ellie. ‘That’s my daydreams of wealth and glory shot down. How about the future, then? Are you looking forward to your dance contest?’
Danny smiled ruefully. ‘Hardly. I honestly don’t understand why we’re putting ourselves through it. Someone at the Wags Club said something to one of our chaps about our dancing prowess one night. There followed a few minutes of ragging and manly chest-thumping, culminating in the throwing down of the gauntlet and the acceptance of this ludicrous challenge. None of us can dance. I don’t think any of their lot can either, though, to be honest. Still, honour must be satisfied and all that. At least it didn’t come to blows.’
It was Ellie’s turn to laugh. ‘When exactly is it? Ivor did say, but I can never remember.’
‘A week on Friday at our regular Friday dance. The twelfth of June.’
‘Just four more lessons to go after this one, then.’
‘Don’t remind me. It’s a good thing we managed to secure the services of your husband and his pals for the extra lessons or it would just have been two. We’re going to look like such fools.’
‘There are worse things than looking like fools.’
‘Many, many worse things. But there’s something about dancing. I don’t know. It’s all a bit . . . personal. Do you know what I mean? Like singing in public.’
Ellie laughed again. ‘I’m sure you’ll all have a wonderful time.’
‘Who’ll have a wonderful time doing what?’ Puddle had arrived with Benny. ‘Hello, Ellie darling.’
‘They’ll have a wonderful time at their dance contest.’
‘We’ll all have a wonderful time, don’t you worry.’
Danny stood. ‘I’d better leave you to your preparations. I also feel the need for a good glug of scotch to calm the old nerves before this evening’s ordeal. I’ll see you all soon.’
‘OK,’ said Ellie. ‘And thank you for looking after me.’
He waved over his shoulder as he left the room.
‘Looking after you?’ said Puddle.
‘There was a bit of a kerfuffle with the doorman. He didn’t want to let me in.’
‘But you’re our manager,’ said Benny with a wink.
The band had been briefed about Ellie pretending to be their manager for the duration of the investigation.