A shout suddenly went up from the bar, and the lights flashed in the hallway, startling them apart.
Tommy abruptly stopped singing. The pianist halted in mid-phrase, and then Tommy’s voice came over the speakers: “I’m sorry to say we’re calling it an early night, folks.” Voices rose at once in confusion and surprise, and the lights flashed again, repeatedly.
“What’s going on?” Lily asked. She glanced out into the hallway, which continued past their alcove beneath the stairs, and ended in a closed door.
Someone came running down the short hallway from the bar and went directly past them, knocking into Lily’s shoulder. They opened the door at the end and plunged through, and just as Lily was stepping out from beneath the stairs, more women came—dozens, all of them, it seemed—heading pell-mell for that door.
Kath grabbed hold of a stranger’s arm and asked, “What happened?”
The woman was in a suit; she dragged her arm away and called over her shoulder, “Cops! The club’s being raided!”
Lily was still holding Kath’s hand, and Kath squeezed her fingers as she peered down the hall at the door. It was a back exit. “Come on,” Kath said. She tugged Lily into the hallway, joining the exodus. Lily could smell the fog seeping inside.
Kath abruptly halted and dragged her out of the way. “Wait—I left my coat.”
The panic of the crowd was contagious, and Lily’s only thought now was escape. “Can’t you leave it?”
Kath shook her head. “My identification’s in the pocket. You go ahead. I’ll meet you out there.”
“Isn’t it fake? Just leave it!” Lily wouldn’t let go of her hand.
“I forgot to leave my real one at home. I have to get it. You go—meet me on our corner, okay?” Kath squeezed Lily’s hand once more, and then Kath went back down the hall, going against the tide of women, leaving Lily alone.
A woman brushed past her, advising, “You better get out of here, unless you want to get caught.”
Heart pounding, Lily followed everyone else outside and into a narrow alley. It was very dark, and it smelled like urine. Up above, the buildings loomed black against a cloud-covered night sky. Only a few windows were lit, and Lily was reminded of how late it was. Everyone emerging from the Telegraph Club seemed to be heading to one or the other end of the alley, and Lily went to the left—she thought that way was Columbus Avenue—but when she emerged onto a side street she didn’t recognize, she stopped. She looked back down the alley. The open door cast a rectangle of yellow light onto the ground, illuminating a puddle of rank liquid that several women splashed through as they ran out of the building. There was no sign of Kath.
Voices came now, loud and insistent. Men’s voices—and then men in uniform, wielding flashlights.
Lily fled across the unfamiliar street. There was a group of men there, standing and smoking in the shadow of a building. The embers at the ends of their cigarettes seemed to float in the air like tiny red eyes. They had probably seen her lingering in the mouth of the alley, and she ducked her head nervously, realizing she’d lost her scarf somewhere.
She kept moving, even though she didn’t know where she was going. She was approaching light and noise, but she kept her gaze lowered toward the stains and spots on the sidewalk, the darker shadow of the gutter running like a river beside her.
The street was short and ended in a wide avenue—she had found Broadway again. To her left was a kaleidoscope of blue and white lights, rotating like a Playland ride. A white neon sign hung from the side of the building closest to the lights: THE TELEGRAPH CLUB. With a jolt, she realized that several police cars were parked outside the club. A clump of women stood near the awning, huddled together as if for safety. A policeman stepped away from one of them, and Lily didn’t understand what she was watching at first. It was only when the woman turned, her arms positioned unnaturally, that she understood that the policeman had handcuffed her.
She spun around immediately and headed for Columbus Avenue. In her quick glimpse of the handcuffed women, she didn’t think she had seen Kath. Maybe she had gone down the alley in the other direction. She might already be on Columbus. Lily quickened her pace. The traffic screamed past her and someone was laughing too loud; men tossed burning cigarettes onto the curb like tiny missiles to dodge. Someone called after her, “Slow down and smile, sweetheart!” She ignored him; she was almost there. She could see their corner in the distance.
But no one was there when she arrived. The streetlamp was shining on an empty sidewalk.