April 24th, 1921. Chicago
Dirk stood outside the State Bank of Illinois waiting for Catherine Sinclair. It had been a couple of days since their escape from Eddie’s rottweilers. Given Catherine’s family connections she was safe from the two-bit gangster, but Dirk was not so lucky. He had been laying low. Dirk had not been home because he knew by now it had been trashed and was being watched by one of Eddie’s goons.
Dirk had kept himself busy tracking down the location of the safety deposit box that went with the key the professor had. Dirk had to call in a favor with a safe cracker he knew, but he traced it to this downtown bank branch. Dirk had promised he would let Catherine know when he knew something, and so now he was waiting rather impatiently for her arrival.
Dirk thought back to a couple of days ago when he first met Catherine Sinclair. She had come through his office door all business. She introduced herself and began explaining that she was a graduate student at the university. Honestly, Dirk did not pay to much attention to what she was saying, because he was to busy paying attention to her long legs. Dirk got the gist of it anyway. In his understanding, Catherine was from a family with old money and she had leveraged that money to pursue higher education. Apparently, if someone gives enough money to have a hall named after them then they can get accepted into the program of their choosing, no matter what their gender is. Catherine’s professor, George Daulton, had gone missing. A police report was filed, but Catherine wanted more attention on the case which is where Dirk came in. Dirk was good at getting stuff done, finding things that did not want to be found, and uncovering the most hidden of secrets. At the time, Dirk figured this was going to be a nice easy job. After the recent events in Romania, Dirk was looking for a softball and he was hoping this was it. From what Catherine had said, he knew the professor had disappeared in Eddie’s turf. Dirk’s best guess is that George had a boozing problem, a gambling problem, or both. He was in over his head and was either hiding or dead. Dirk did not think the truth would be that hard to find, the biggest surprise is that Catherine demanded to go with him.
It turned out that Dirk was right, George Daulton was in over his head. It turns out that, Eddie Torrio was also into something over his head. Dirk had just show up at one of his gin joints and asked a few questions. Eddie was crazy, but not crazy enough to feed someone to his dogs with almost no provocation. That kind of response meant that Eddie was scared about something or scared of someone. Dirk had probably been wrong about George. He was not into cards or booze . . .well he might of been, but that is not what got him killed. The professor either knew something about someone’s business or knew enough of something to ask the wrong people the wrong questions. Dirk really hoped this safety deposit box contained some answers. Especially since finding this bank had cost a favor. In this town favors were not cheap, and Dirk was glad that Catherine’s money was good. When people tried to kill him his fees went up, and his fees also went up when he had to spend favors.
With Dirk’s thoughts on Catherine Sinclair, it was as if she arrived on cue. A taxi pulled up to the curb to let her out.
“Good day, Ms. Sinclair.” Dirk said with a nod.
“Good Morning. Mr. Sullivan, “ said Catherine returning the greeting, “Are you sure this isthe right place.”
“I have a friend who has intimate knowledge of this building. It is the right place. So we are on the same page, in case they ask inside we are happily married.”
Catherine surprised stood with her mouth open, and blond hair blowing in the wind, unsure how to respond.
Dirk Continued, “It will be a more believable story for the bank clerks. So Mrs. Sullivan are you ready to go view your precious jewels?”
Dirk offered his arm to Catherine. She paused for a second before taking it and responding, “Why of course, dear.”
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Death Blossom Part 1
April 21st, 1921. Chicago, USA.
“I thought you said I could trust you!” Cathrine Sinclair shouted with an accusatory tone.
Dirk Sullivan annoyed, rolled his eyes and replied“You can trust me. This is just a minor inconvenience.”
If Dirk was being honest, this really was a little more than a minor inconvenience, but he was not going to admit that to her. She had already been nagging him enough. In truth, this was one of the tightest spots he had been in for quite some time. He found himself in a chair back to back and bound to his client, the seemingly unsatisfiable Ms. Sinclair. They were trapped in what could only be described as a room sized cage that he could only guess was in the corner of some warehouse in one of the many less reputable neighborhoods of Chicago.
“I hope the two of you are comfortable.” their host and captor interjected.
Dirk just rolled his eyes again. He hated sarcasm, especially from overly smug lowlifes. When it came to smug lowlifes Eddie “the Rottweiler” Torrio was a prime example.
Eddie continued, “Do you know what happens next?”
Dirk, let out a slightly amused sigh, “We get to play with your pets right?”
Eddie earned his nickname by how he chose to dispose of people who defaulted on their loans, snitched, or otherwise were a threat to him. Eddie had two mean Rottweiler's that he had trained to kill.
“Yes Mr. Sullivan, you get to play with my pets. Perhaps they will teach you a lesson about sticking your nose in my business.” Eddie taunted, as he motioned with a sick smile to the remains in one corner of the cage, “Your associate, I am sure already learned this lesson. This is often my favorite part, but I must bid the two of you farewell. I have a social engagement to attend.”
Eddie struck a match and lit a large candle. Above the candle was a rather narrow rope. Dirk’s eyes followed the rope upwards to a pulley system, and from the pulley system ropes led to two small gates, which caged Rottweilers were being positioned next two by a couple of hired thugs. When the rope burnt through, the gates would drop and the dogs would be more than ready to pounce. Eddie is a real sick bastard, thought Dirk. He did not just kill people in a truly gruesome way, but he enjoyed making them suffer in the waiting for it.
With the dogs in position and waiting impatiently, Eddie and his goons left. Cathrine Sinclair began to whimper, believing that the end was near. Dirk interrupted her crying, “It is not time for a pity party yet, sweetheart. Can you pull my coat sleeve tight?”
Unsure what the game was, Cathrine complied and the tautness on the duster’s sleeve gave Dirk enough leverage to twist his arm and break the razor blade that he had sewn into the coat through the fabric. Dirk continued explaining what he was doing, “This may come as a surprise to you, but I have been in situations like this before. I try to always be prepared.”
While he was talking, Dirk was doing his best to move his arm to have the blade cut through the rope. Fortunately, for Dirk he worked faster than the flame, and he had them free just before the dogs were released. Dirk did not have a lot of time to read himself, as he heard the rope snap, and the gate doors clang open. Cathrine moved to the back of the cage and the two dogs charged at Dirk. He grabbed the chair he had been restrained in. The first dog lunged for his throat, and Dirk swung the chair wildly. The chair connected with the animal and shattered from the impact. Dirk did not have time to congratulate himself as the second dog was already upon on him. As it had been trained, this Rottweiler also went straight for the throat. Unarmed and defenseless, Dirk put his arms up in a futile effort to protect himself. A couple of long seconds later, Dirk was mildly surprised that he was still alive. He looked at his feet at the second dog and the pool of blood that was beginning to form. Assessing what had happened, Dirk looked around and noticed the hidden blade from his jacket was bloodied. Dirk released his tension in a sigh, unable to believe his own luck. The overzealous animal had slit it's own throat on Dirk's blade. The first Rottweiler began to stir again, feeling more confident Dirk took one of the legs from the fractured chair and beat the dog until it stopped moving.
Dirk stopped and catching his breath triumphantly said to Cathrine, “See I told you that you could trust me.”
Dirk was not surprised, when she did not respond to his wit. He shrugged it off, and moved to examine the corpse in the corner that Eddie had referred to. The man was nicely dressed, as one would expect out of a college professor. His throat had been torn out, as one would expect from the now deceased rottweilers. As Dirk assumed, wallet and identification had been taken. However, in the inner coat pocket he found a handkerchief with the monogram GD. George Daulton. This was the man that Cathrine Sinclair had hired Dirk to find. Dirk took one last look over the body for anything that might be of interest. He was not a cobbler, but something about the dead man’s left shoe caught his interest. Dirk knelt down and examined the shoe more closely. The heel on the left foot was made of a different material than the right. Following a hunch, Dirk pulled and twisted the heel to reveal it was false. The heel came off and revealed a small key and a number on a slip of paper
Cathrine had been squeamishly staying back from the grisly scene meekly asked, “Did you find something?”
Standing up, Dirk answered, “Well this is definitely your college professor and this looks like a key to a safety deposit box.” Dirk paused for a second and then headed to move the dog cage out of the way before continuing. “I am sorry for your loss Ms. Sinclair. I wish we had found your friend under better circumstances, but it is over. We need to leave now though, may I escort you home?”
Completely unsure how to respond to his candor and the weight of everything she had experienced over the evening, Cathrine stammered, “What do you mean it is over? What about why? What about about the safety deposit box? Don’t you want to know what is going on?”
“No.” Said Dirk simply without looking back.
Damn it. Yes, I do. Dirk thought. My old man always said I was to curious for my own good.
“I thought you said I could trust you!” Cathrine Sinclair shouted with an accusatory tone.
Dirk Sullivan annoyed, rolled his eyes and replied“You can trust me. This is just a minor inconvenience.”
If Dirk was being honest, this really was a little more than a minor inconvenience, but he was not going to admit that to her. She had already been nagging him enough. In truth, this was one of the tightest spots he had been in for quite some time. He found himself in a chair back to back and bound to his client, the seemingly unsatisfiable Ms. Sinclair. They were trapped in what could only be described as a room sized cage that he could only guess was in the corner of some warehouse in one of the many less reputable neighborhoods of Chicago.
“I hope the two of you are comfortable.” their host and captor interjected.
Dirk just rolled his eyes again. He hated sarcasm, especially from overly smug lowlifes. When it came to smug lowlifes Eddie “the Rottweiler” Torrio was a prime example.
Eddie continued, “Do you know what happens next?”
Dirk, let out a slightly amused sigh, “We get to play with your pets right?”
Eddie earned his nickname by how he chose to dispose of people who defaulted on their loans, snitched, or otherwise were a threat to him. Eddie had two mean Rottweiler's that he had trained to kill.
“Yes Mr. Sullivan, you get to play with my pets. Perhaps they will teach you a lesson about sticking your nose in my business.” Eddie taunted, as he motioned with a sick smile to the remains in one corner of the cage, “Your associate, I am sure already learned this lesson. This is often my favorite part, but I must bid the two of you farewell. I have a social engagement to attend.”
Eddie struck a match and lit a large candle. Above the candle was a rather narrow rope. Dirk’s eyes followed the rope upwards to a pulley system, and from the pulley system ropes led to two small gates, which caged Rottweilers were being positioned next two by a couple of hired thugs. When the rope burnt through, the gates would drop and the dogs would be more than ready to pounce. Eddie is a real sick bastard, thought Dirk. He did not just kill people in a truly gruesome way, but he enjoyed making them suffer in the waiting for it.
With the dogs in position and waiting impatiently, Eddie and his goons left. Cathrine Sinclair began to whimper, believing that the end was near. Dirk interrupted her crying, “It is not time for a pity party yet, sweetheart. Can you pull my coat sleeve tight?”
Unsure what the game was, Cathrine complied and the tautness on the duster’s sleeve gave Dirk enough leverage to twist his arm and break the razor blade that he had sewn into the coat through the fabric. Dirk continued explaining what he was doing, “This may come as a surprise to you, but I have been in situations like this before. I try to always be prepared.”
While he was talking, Dirk was doing his best to move his arm to have the blade cut through the rope. Fortunately, for Dirk he worked faster than the flame, and he had them free just before the dogs were released. Dirk did not have a lot of time to read himself, as he heard the rope snap, and the gate doors clang open. Cathrine moved to the back of the cage and the two dogs charged at Dirk. He grabbed the chair he had been restrained in. The first dog lunged for his throat, and Dirk swung the chair wildly. The chair connected with the animal and shattered from the impact. Dirk did not have time to congratulate himself as the second dog was already upon on him. As it had been trained, this Rottweiler also went straight for the throat. Unarmed and defenseless, Dirk put his arms up in a futile effort to protect himself. A couple of long seconds later, Dirk was mildly surprised that he was still alive. He looked at his feet at the second dog and the pool of blood that was beginning to form. Assessing what had happened, Dirk looked around and noticed the hidden blade from his jacket was bloodied. Dirk released his tension in a sigh, unable to believe his own luck. The overzealous animal had slit it's own throat on Dirk's blade. The first Rottweiler began to stir again, feeling more confident Dirk took one of the legs from the fractured chair and beat the dog until it stopped moving.
Dirk stopped and catching his breath triumphantly said to Cathrine, “See I told you that you could trust me.”
Dirk was not surprised, when she did not respond to his wit. He shrugged it off, and moved to examine the corpse in the corner that Eddie had referred to. The man was nicely dressed, as one would expect out of a college professor. His throat had been torn out, as one would expect from the now deceased rottweilers. As Dirk assumed, wallet and identification had been taken. However, in the inner coat pocket he found a handkerchief with the monogram GD. George Daulton. This was the man that Cathrine Sinclair had hired Dirk to find. Dirk took one last look over the body for anything that might be of interest. He was not a cobbler, but something about the dead man’s left shoe caught his interest. Dirk knelt down and examined the shoe more closely. The heel on the left foot was made of a different material than the right. Following a hunch, Dirk pulled and twisted the heel to reveal it was false. The heel came off and revealed a small key and a number on a slip of paper
Cathrine had been squeamishly staying back from the grisly scene meekly asked, “Did you find something?”
Standing up, Dirk answered, “Well this is definitely your college professor and this looks like a key to a safety deposit box.” Dirk paused for a second and then headed to move the dog cage out of the way before continuing. “I am sorry for your loss Ms. Sinclair. I wish we had found your friend under better circumstances, but it is over. We need to leave now though, may I escort you home?”
Completely unsure how to respond to his candor and the weight of everything she had experienced over the evening, Cathrine stammered, “What do you mean it is over? What about why? What about about the safety deposit box? Don’t you want to know what is going on?”
“No.” Said Dirk simply without looking back.
Damn it. Yes, I do. Dirk thought. My old man always said I was to curious for my own good.
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