"The '21 Club (Jack and Charlie's)' was also known as the '21 Club'."
It was a secret wine cellar built during the Prohibition era.
The entire 21 Club was converted from three brownstone houses at 21, 19, and 17 West 52nd Street. The stone door to the wine cellar, where Colin now stood, was fashioned from a section of the partition wall between numbers 21 and 19.
It was said that the founders of the 21 Club, Jack Kriendler and Charlie Berns, considered America's current Prohibition policy a "grand folly." They felt it was their duty to violate this terrible law and provide New York with fine wine and cuisine during the Great Depression.
Colin had no comment on the founders' motives.
However, it was undeniable that the 21 Club had become an important speakeasy in New York, with many political and business magnates among its clientele.
This included Hughes, the man who had invited Colin, who was also a regular at the 21 Club.
"You're finally here, Colin."
Inside the low-ceilinged speakeasy, Hughes gestured to Colin with his glass. Behind him stood a bartender in a crisp white jacket.
"A cocktail."
Downing the drink in his hand, Hughes turned and gave the order to the bartender.
The latter skillfully mixed a drink and pushed it in front of him.
"What'll you have? I recommend the Hannesville Rye Whiskey here. It was distilled in 1911 and just recently rebottled—good stuff..."
Picking up the cocktail before him, a slightly tipsy Hughes offered his recommendation to Colin.
"I'm not as rich as you," Colin declined with a smile, then turned to the bartender. "I'll have a gin."
Taking a small sip of the gin in his glass, Colin surveyed the interior of the 21 Club.
In the pine-paneled lounge with its parquet floor, patrons held their glasses, either reading the paper or chatting leisurely. There was none of the gloominess one might expect from an underground bar. Here, people could drink to their heart's content, without fear of being watched by a prohibition agent.
"Don't worry, the restaurant is very safe. In fact, not long ago, a group of federal agents searched the place for a full sixteen hours and still came up empty. They never found the 21 Club, which was just a wall away."
The door to the 21 Club's wine cellar was specially commissioned by the club's owner from a Swiss watch designer. It weighed two and a half tons, and its entrance fit seamlessly with the walls. Once closed, no scent or sound could escape.
Experiencing this era of the Great Depression and Prohibition firsthand gave Colin a peculiar sense of history.
Perhaps influenced by the atmosphere of the 21 Club, the gin in his mouth tasted even more bittersweet.
Savoring the taste of Prohibition-era gin, Colin looked up and noticed the various small objects hanging from the restaurant's ceiling.
"What are these?"
Looking at the football helmets, model airplanes, and trains suspended from the ceiling, Colin cast an inquisitive glance at Hughes.
"They're gifts from regular customers. The 21 Club also uses these toys to mark a guest's specific table. For example, the one with the tuna model is Ernest Hemingway's spot. The ship model belongs to some shipping magnate; the helmet is from the owner of a football club..."
Of course, besides these individuals, Howard Hughes had also left his own mark on the ceiling—a custom-made model airplane.
"Now, it's your turn to think about what little gift you'll leave for the 21 Club."
After explaining the reason for the dense array of items on the ceiling, Hughes raised an eyebrow and prompted Colin.
"A gift I have to leave?"
At Hughes's reminder, Colin glanced up again at the models hanging above.
If nothing unexpected happened, what he would hang on the ceiling of the 21 Club would probably be a Superman Action Figure.
"Mr. Howard Hughes, your food is ready."
Just then, a waiter dressed in livery, with a unique Viennese Long Island accent, approached the two men and informed Hughes at the bar.
"It's ready?"
Hearing the waiter, Hughes picked up his glass and, led by the waiter, he and Colin made their way to the specific spot marked by the hanging model airplane.
"The kitchen has prepared grilled sea bass for today. I recommend pairing it with a white wine from Chateau Lagrange..."
After the two were seated, the waiter brought over a wine bottle and began his introduction.
Judging by the waiter's impeccable service, it was hard to imagine this was merely an underground bar, and the wine he was recommending was contraband in this era of Prohibition.
Colin took a taste of the white wine. A rich fruitiness complemented the perfectly tender texture of the sea bass, and the subtle, acidic lemon flavor that emerged in the aftertaste perfectly cut through the greasy sensation from the fish belly.
"A pity the white wine isn't aged enough. Otherwise, it would taste even better."
Swirling the slightly cloudy white wine in his glass, Hughes spoke with a hint of regret.
Under the influence of the 18th Amendment (Prohibition Act), the transportation and sale of alcohol across America were extremely strict. Most of the wine in the 21 Club was smuggled into the restaurant, which created a problem.
It was impossible to guarantee the quality of the smuggled wine every time.
Just like the white wine Hughes and Colin were tasting now—although it was a decent wine for Colin, it clearly wasn't quite up to Hughes's standards.
Although he had accepted the invitation to the 21 Club, drinking was not the main purpose of Colin's visit.
Unlike Hughes and others who lived through the Great Depression and the Prohibition era, Colin himself didn't have a strong dependence on alcohol. Besides, if he wanted to, he could drink freely in the Anti-World. Therefore, he didn't need to sneak into a speakeasy like the 21 Club just to taste alcohol, as Hughes and the others did.
"How are the arrangements for filming the iceberg coming along?"
After taking a bite of sea bass, Colin looked up and asked Hughes.
"It's going quite smoothly. I've already chartered an ocean liner and am preparing to head to the Titanic Sinking Site to shoot some footage. As for the iceberg, I've hired a professor from the University of California, Houston Campus who studies the relationship between ocean currents and glaciers. He's tracking the origin of the iceberg that sank the great ship. According to his speculation, the wandering iceberg most likely came from Greenland..."
"So, your final destination is Greenland?"
Hearing this, Colin put down his knife and fork and looked at him.
"If I can film a suitable iceberg, I don't mind a trip to Greenland."
(end of chapter)