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.