Part 3 - Hooker's Make Over
“You want to play the game; you need to look the part. Just wait till you see the difference”.
Hooker gave Henry a skeptical look. A quick shave and a haircut weren’t going to make much of a difference.
The cab stopped outside a barber’s shop in Michigan Avenue.
A plump, smartly dressed man appeared from behind the counter. A big smile crossed his face when he recognised Henry.
“Well Henry Gondorff, how are ya? I thought you were dead or somethin’”.
Henry smiled. “You know the Feds, Benny. Couldn’t find bread in a bakery”. Both men laughed.
Their laughter quickly subsided as Benny’s smile turned serious.
“I’m sorry about Luther. Dukey was in here today passing the hat round for Alva and the kids. Hopefully that sonofabitch comes in here for a shave”. Benny brandished his razor against his hand.
“We’re gonna take care of him with less violent means”. Henry smiled, tapping his nose. He turned to Hooker and gently pushed him forward. “This is my associate and friend, John Hooker. We need to fix him up good and proper. What can you do for us Benny”?
Benny waved his hand in dismissal. “For you Henry, anything”.
Hooker found himself pushed into a barber’s chair, a white smock placed around his neck. Henry stifled a snort of amusement at the perplexed expression on his companion’s face. It was obvious he was going to enjoy Hooker’s transformation far more than Hooker was.
At first it took Hooker a while to get used to having his head pulled in all directions by the heavy-handed barber. When it came time for a shave, Hooker could feel himself tense. But to his relief, Benny’s hands guided the blade around his face with careful ease.
With one twitch of an index finger, Henry summoned the manicurist.
After what seemed an eternity of sniping and nail filing, Benny handed Hooker a mirror.
The difference was incredible. Hooker looked over at Henry, who was lounging over the next chair. Henry winked knowingly at him.
Damn Henry. He was always right and he goddamn knew it.
As Henry and Hooker made for the door, Benny clasped a hand to Hooker’s shoulder as he gave him a package. “You listen to Henry. He’s the best. Not only in the big con, but makin’ sure you come out of it alive”. Hooker nodded. He didn’t need to be told.
Then of course the next stop was a haberdashery.
Again, the manager knew Henry and couldn’t do enough to help.
Henry pushed Hooker into the change rooms and went about choosing conservative, yet stylish suits. Hooker fidgeted impatiently, whilst the haberdasher made chalk marks, tugged and shifted the material to fit his body perfectly. He tried on shirts, ties and shoes with the promise that his new clothes would be ready to pick up the next day.
Their final stop was a humble, yet comfortable apartment building. As Henry waited in the cab, Hooker paid a week’s rent on a room with a bed and bathroom. He opened the package from the barber’s shop. It contained a hairbrush, comb and aftershave. Feeling confident in his new appearance, Hooker skipped down the stairs to join Henry.
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Back at Billie’s, the two men sat in Henry’s room discussing the afternoon’s efforts whilst eating sandwiches and drinking coffee. After a while, Henry got off the bed where he had been sitting and headed to the bathroom.
Sitting next to the rejuvenated Hooker, he felt a little self conscious. Perhaps a quick wash would help. Behind him he could hear Hooker's voice.
“How many guys have you conned over the years, Henry”?
Henry began to trim his mustache as he answered.
“Two or three hundred I guess”. He laughed. “Sometimes we played two or three a day when I was in Shea’s mob. We had it down to a business. Like a production line”. He picked up his razor and began to shave off the remainder of his mustache. “’Course Chicago was a good town then. The fix was in. The dicks took their end of our arrangements without a question. All those Wall Street types wanted to invest our money for us. We even had marks looking us up, thinking they could beat us”. Henry rinsed his razor and dried his hands on a towel. As he turned around to rejoin Hooker in the other room, he realised his heart seemed to be pounding with nerves. Though he couldn’t imagine why.
“Well? What do you think”? Henry leaned against the door frame, his mustache was completely gone.
Hooker looked up, raising his eyebrows as he saw the results.
“Looks nice”, he said softly and gave a small smile.
Henry went to the bed side table and retrieved a deck of cards. “How ‘bout a game of gin”? He sat down on the bed.
“Sure”. Hooker smirked. “Dunno why you bother though. I always manage to beat your sorry ass”. Henry went to clip him on the ear, but he missed and his fingers ended up brushing against Hooker’s neck.
Billie arrived to collect their dirty dishes. She tried to contain her surprise as she noticed a clean shaven Henry. The familiar feeling of warmth between Hooker and Henry was very much alive making her feel a little uncomfortable. Hooker was stretched out on the bed beside Henry, giving their game of cards a little more intimacy.
“Gin,” Hooker dropped his cards.
Henry grunted sourly. “How in the hell’d you get the ace of clubs? It was at the bottom of the deck”.
“How’d you know it was at the bottom of the deck, smart guy”, Hooker grinned and was immediately knocked backwards off the bed by a flying pillow, sending both men into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
Billie silently collected the dishes and exited the room.
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As Hooker tumbled into a freshly made bed that night, he thought of Henry. The man was a mass of contradictions. He was elegant, smart and sophisticated, but happy to bunk down in some crumbly old whorehouse with the company of a few world weary sluts. His smile radiated genuine kindness and friendship, but he had the guts and backbone to con some of the most dangerous men in the country.
Without the mustache, Henry’s warm face seemed so much more open. His eyes seemed clearer and bluer than before.
Hooker liked it when Henry smiled.
He rolled onto his stomach and tried to close his eyes.
He also liked the feel of Henry’s warm, gentle fingertips brushing against his neck.
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Henry lay back on the pillow. For the first time in many months, he felt genuinely fulfilled about an honest (well semi-honest) hard day’s work. He had thoroughly enjoyed himself today. He couldn’t remember when he had smiled so much or felt so carefree. Every time he was in Hooker’s company, he felt like the weight of his worries was lifted.
But something niggled at him. When he came out of the bathroom, he thought he noticed warmth in Hooker’s eyes.
Perhaps he was just imagining things.
He looked at the outline of his fingertips in the darkness. A tingle shot below his waist as he remembered the softness of Hooker’s skin…………………