The Heart Shaped Moon

The place was tucked away in a corner of the Southside, amid a string of gaudy night clubs, casinos and sex parlors. It was a throwback palace, a retro attraction hearkening back to days before I was born. The Heart Shaped Moon Club the sign stated and under the title was the legend An intimate Burlesque experience.

How much and at the same time how little things had changed.

We keep thinking the world will see some drastic shift, either Utopia or maybe Apocalypse. It some ways it has. There is less disease now, Cancer’s been cured though that should have happened sooner. There are few wars and less want and disparity. On the other side cities of any size all have U.V. domes to protect us from an angry Sun. We have oxygen generators to counter the carbon levels and everybody has their own ox mask for when it’s really bad.

In most ways things are as they always have been. Money and sex still drive the world. The rich people have it, most others want it and while some will work hard hoping to find it others will do terrible things to get it.

Take here. It was the worst part of the city once, full of dives, drugs and the desperate. Back then this place had looked totally different and hadn’t borne the same name. It had simply been a bar, strip joint and sex club. I’d wandered in one day, a broken man just looking for a place to sit in the dark. Strip bars are great for that. You can nurse a drink for a while and so long as you regularly donate to the performers, outside of the occasional attempt to sell you on extracurricular activities you’ll be left alone. Discretion is a given so they don’t ask a lot of probing questions.

Then Southside had turned a corner a became a splashy center of adult entertainment tourism and the newly remodeled and renamed Heart Shaped Moon had found its own niche and established itself as a unique venue, a saloon and bordello patterned after the post prohibition nightclubs of the 1930s. The clientele exploded and the money poured in and for decades this place had been a landmark.

Now like most of Southside the place was somewhat in flux, caught in the middle of boom or bust and no one was sure which way it was going to go. The rise and possible fall of both Southside and more particularly this club paralleled the rise and possible fall of the proprietor of this place. That would be Diana Luna or as she was more popularly known, Ginger Moon, performer, adult entertainer, courtesan, entrepreneur, and one of the city’s so-called icons after dark.

This was the woman I had come to see. Today was the one day I knew she would be here and that she would be alone.

I made my way up to the magnificent steps leading up to the main entrance and hesitated a moment. Maybe I should go around to one of the more discreet entrances but I was tired and beneath my suit and coat I was nursing a lot of bruises as well as a particularly nasty laser burn. The front was closest so I gritted my teeth and made my way up the stairs.

I hit the buzzer next to the retro style speaker, knowing the well-hidden scanners were likely already sweeping me. I was no longer armed so that at least wasn’t a worry.

A female voice came through, one I recognized. “I’m sorry the establishment is closed today.” Even clipped and cold the voice was full and rich and brought memory forward in a rush. “Miss Luna I am an insurance investigator and I need to discuss matters concerning today’s…significance.”

After a moment there was an audible click as the door opened.

What a step back into a forgotten world this place was! The antechamber was magnificently appointed and though no one was manning the hat or coat check I left my UV resistant fedora and trench coat there, then I walked through the open doors into the main ballroom.

Here was ancient hedonism recreated in splendor. The upper space was an amphitheater of public and private seating for guests. The dance floor, a revived and unique attraction was covered with pearlescent tiles. The incredibly elaborate orchestra box and performance stage was gilt with silver and pearl accents. Above us however was not the elaborate chandelier of the past but in one modern conceit the roof displayed a holographic depiction of a brilliant night sky, a sea of glowing stars across the vista marked by a brilliant moon in the shape of a heart.

I took a moment to breathe in memory. It was as if moonlight could come to life, as if romance was a thing to be immersed in, available for anyone under the sky, a nighttime so much lighter than ours where the stars were blotted out by the city’s harsher glare.

The heart shaped moon cast a soft beam of light on the woman standing on the middle of that floor. Diana Luna, Ginger Moon, the icon of the sex with a wink and giggle style of Burlesque. She was as beautiful as I remembered, not surprising these days when youth is a commodity readily purchased and preserved. Her face however was taught with strain. She turned to me with haughty grace and as she approached the beam of moonlight followed her. Ever the performer I thought to myself.

However as the light reached me her step suddenly faltered, her eyes widened and her mouth opened with astonishment. “John?” she asked and her voice was shaken.

I had to smile now. Of all the people in her incredible life I would never have expected her to remember me. John was my name and “john” was what I had been to her. One of her first customers when she was getting started, back in the dive this place had been. Now she came forward and gave me an unexpected hug and I struggled to hide pain as I was returning it.

She guided me to the table where she had been sitting. “It’s been years! You stopped coming to see me.” She poured me a drink which I took gratefully. “You were out of my league by then. You had better men than me lining up for your time.” She reached out and took my hand and there was that impish grin as she said “Richer men, more suave perhaps, but I never saw better, John.”

Here was the hard part. “I really am an Insurance investigator. I found this in the course of my most recent investigation.” From my pocket I pulled an exquisite necklace of pearls. It featured a giant pearl exquisitely molded into the shape of a heart. Her expression went into angry shock. “Where did you get that?”

It was the necklace her daughter had been wearing ten years ago, the night she was brutally kidnapped, raped and murdered.

“I took it from the man who had it. Cason Mars.”

Her expression went from anger to astonishment. “You mean the Mogul of Mid-town, the Carbon Recycling King?” Confusion filled her face now.

I felt a flash of both physical and emotional pain. “I’m sorry it took so long. It’s…I investigate insurance compliance and finance. That can take a long time, years to develop.” I took an inward breath and continued. “I eventually put the pattern together. Cason got his start in real estate as a Southside Slumlord. When things picked up he wanted to take advantage.”

I saw memory in her eyes. “He wanted to buy me out.” Then her eyes and voice hardened. “Oh, he wanted more than that! I told him where he could stick both offers!”

I nodded. “The plan was to kidnap your daughter and force you into selling out. He had connections like crazy and thought he could get away with it.” Tears ran down Diana’s face. “She was only nineteen!” I nodded sadly. “I know. She was barely into womanhood. He was obsessed with you and he had her. From what I could learn she wouldn’t cower. Instead she attacked him. He did to her what he really wanted to do to you along with his four closest soldiers. They went farther than they intended.”

Fierce anger was in her reply. “They raped and murdered her!”

I continued. “They knew they had to cover it up. Cason was finished in Southside. He sold out and moved his operations to Mid-town. It was the payoffs. I followed the money. That’s how I found him.”

Diana was mute but her expression demanded more and I gave it. “I found the bonuses he paid his four employees afterwards, repeated and increased annually. I tracked the payment he made to the former City Coroner that filed your daughter’s autopsy report and the yearly stipend afterwards. Him I tracked to Hawaii. He gave me much more.” As I continued I saw the anger on her face slowly turning to almost disbelief. “I found the payments to a former Southside Police Captain and the large contributions to the election campaign of our now current City Police Commissioner, clearly to fund the cover-up.”

Now I shook my head. “The evidence was there, but it had to wait years for the pattern to build and be clear. Even then it was all circumstantial. No court would ever act on it. They were too well covered.” Now I looked at her again. “Here’s where I probably overstepped. I’m sorry. But I handled it. I thought I owed it to you.”

It was so much to take in and now I saw concern on her face. “John, what did you do?” I sighed. “They’ll find Cason Mars in his penthouse with six .357 caliber slugs in him. I went old school there. His four close associates will be found in various places in similar condition. The former Coroner tubed to Hawaii for the fishing. He’s feeding the fishes now.” At her shocked look I grinned. “I know, plain old me, who would’ve thought? The one I can’t touch though is the Police Commissioner. He’s too well insulated.”

“I can handle him!” she declared forcefully. “I knew he was hiding something! I’ve got enough scandal on him to more than sink his career!” I nodded. “Good, use it but anonymously.”

Now she looked at me again and I could see she had a million questions but it was the most important one she asked. “John, why did you do this for me?”

I smiled at her. “I owed you, so very much. A few years before we met I lost my wife to Cancer just seven months before the cure came out. I was broken after, so very lonely. I went into clubs to hide and be around pretty women. I never expected to…” I couldn’t continue and her eyes softened. “Then you came out singing that song.” She smiled now. “Let’s Be Lonely Together.” I nodded. “I never thought I’d do it.” Now she sighed. “You bought my time.”

“You were so kind. I knew it would be incredible but the kindness…” When I stopped she finished. “I saw pain in your eyes. I knew what you needed.”

Then a real flash of pain hit me. I saw alarm cross her face. “Sorry. Took a bad laser hit from Cason. I need the hospital but I wanted to tell you first.”

I stood shakily from the table. I made one step and fell to the floor. She called my name as I rolled on to my back, staring up at the ceiling. My eyes were filled with that heart shaped moon as I dimly felt her strapping her portable ox mask to my face. I could feel my breathing, in…out…in…out…