Azrael the Unmentionable
Disclaimer: Well we all know this cookie breaks. I don't own any of JE characters. I don't own Washio or Asakura. Giggles if you happen to know where these two come from I am sorry. In my own twisted way I am being bad. Judge Pepper come for a Dr. Pepper can. Moose well I had a relative nicknamed Moose. I forgot what Morse was borrowed from. I also have no control over Azrael aka Angel of death, aka Grim Reaper. I've had the point made to me twice.
Anyway this is what you get when I try to think of an Unmentionable I would like to write with for a challenge. I know the Grim Reaper. WTF? He's not been done, I don't think. I gotta go back and read VoSP make sure that wasn't him. Oh well, he just seems like it would be fun to write with.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Race Track
Today was the prefect day for betting at the race track. The weather was warm but not to warm. Rain from the night before washed away any lingering dust from the race track. An off day there was no real races happening, just some friendly betting amongst a few of the owners as they let some of their finest stock strut their stuff.
Among the horse owners a local Trenton judge, two business men From Tokyo Washio and Asakura, a less than well known mob boss aka Moose Morse, at least they think he is a want a be mob boss. And a few very plain looking people toss in apparently for good measures, most likely assistants. Also present and betting the owner of Vincent Plum Bail Bonding, and an aged rather meticulous man to whom seems ceaselessly to scribble and erase from a book. Scribbling at the track didn't make you stand out. Having a large golden staff snuggled in the crook of your arm while you do so, does make you stand out.
Dropping dead in the Burg is nothing. You go to the big maker in the sky via lot of things. My grandfather Mazur went by a ½ lb bacon, a day habit. Then again back in my grandfather's day most took exit stage right through the mafia. Today rate exchange for dead to living is balanced out same old way. Over weight, mafia wantabes, and well bad gambling bets. Which is the way the number of fifteen is about to decrease to ominous thirteen.
Vinnie flung his hat off yelling several inventive Italian swear words at his horse of betting choice. "Stupid nag, hurry the hell up your gonna lighten me by a small fortune. Hey whatda? No turn around go the other way. Noooo. I'll see you off to the glue factory you beast."
______________________________________
The Office
Lulu swung through the office door ahead of me. Her latest flamboyant style 'a screaming cherry red vinyl zippered vest with matching mini skirt' two sizes to small. Though I had to admit those hipster FM boots were the shit in that dazzling glossy white shade. Connie looked up, to dazed to reply. Lulu of course thought she was just awe struck.
"Told you. See didn't I tell you. Yeah. Connie thinks this is just the shit, this outfit. Now if my main man could see me. Girl, he'd rip this shit straight off me. Get some of this." She jutted her hip sharply to the right. Causing a dumbfounded, speechless Ranger to duck for cover before something blew a part all that under- pressure vinyl Lulu was strutting.
"Shit, to much PSI." Ranger excused himself as he squeezed between me and the door jam. "Babe." And he was gone. Damn I would like to have just vanished with Ranger, or at least escape with him before that ripping noise coming from Lulu didn't stop until she had totally busted out all over.
I was certain when she picked me up this morning there hadn't been that much cleavage hanging out.
"Hmph, Don't know bout no PSI, I do know bout CSI."
'Yeah uhm bout that PSI-." Connie began to explain to Lulu about 'pressure per square inch', but then thought better of it when Lulu leaned forward and a couple of the teeth from her zippered vest snapped off and ricocheted around the office.
"So where's Vinnie?" Lulu ask peeping over file cabinets and Connie who was blocking the little weasels place of sanctum. "Wanta see if he won me anything? He's supposed to bet on my horse, Big Beautiful Broad."
Oh yes Connie and I snicker about that.
"Oh, about that."
Lulu arched a finely plucked brow. "I'll squash that dog turd, if he betted on the wrong horse."
"No need, Big Beautiful Broad almost did that for him." Connie shuffled files until she found last weeks paper. "Wanta see the article, made it above the fold, front and center."
______________________________________
"Stephanie." Vinnie bellowed from his office. "I have a recovery for you or should I give it to someone else?"
I looked at Connie. "Vinnie doesn't sound happy and from the looks of the front page- yeash. He get hit by a horse?"
"Never mind him what happened to the judge and my horse?" Lulu croaked looking closer at what had to be a 72 font on the papers front page, and the couple of generic poses of Trenton's Judge Pepper.
Connie opened her mouth to make another comment but Vinnie stormed out of his office in a whirlwind of fury snatching the paper from three very slack jawed women.
"I said, do I need to give the job to some one else?"
"Harry Hammer find out bout, well." I fished around searching for the right words to inquire about what he might have been into to get so banged up.
"Hell, no he doesn't know. Do you want this damn job or not."
"Yeah, but first what happened to you?"
Vinnie did some graphic Italian signs. Connie in turn snapped out her mother of pearl stiletto, and Vinnie settled down enough to enlighten us.
"I am telling you prefect day for little side betting with owners. Judge Pepper was there, two Tokyo businessmen, Moose Morse and of course the usual low life assistant of an assistant."
"The Moose Morse? The very same one couldn't find his ass from a hole in the ground?" Lulu interrupted.
Vinnie gave her, a go to hell look. To which she returned with more heat.
"There was about twenty of us there betting. The race was winding down-"
"Paper says there were only fifteen of you and two died so that-"
"Lulu." Vinnie cut in, "I was there let me tell the story."
"Hmpt."
"Anyway the race was winding down; last turn horse coming long fine. I was doing well, bout to roll in the dough."
Connie gave him you're a lying sack of shit look, but she didn't interrupt.
"And out of the blue stupid horses, bolted, turning running back into the oncoming horses. I'm like fucking hey and bam the stupid ass Moose whipped out a gun, shooting the entire fucking place up. Raving lunatic swore up and down. Old man who'd been there scribbling and then erasing shit snapped that big cane out like a scythe and ripped into Judge Pepper. But I saw Pepper and EMT said dropped dead of a heart attack."
I wondered if he'd had to share an ambulance ride with said judge but I figured I would fish instead.
And." I inquired.
'And." Vinnie snapped back. "During that time, all the dog food on hoofs bolted through the fence, knocking me down and the few people still milling around that didn't scatter like coach roaches when lights flip on. Moose apparently was amongst them."
"So this has what to do with me?" I fished for another hint.
Vinnie narrowed his one good eye at me, the other just a large swollen black spot.
"You see this old man here?" Vinnie slapped a folder open. The mug shot was of an elderly man, in a plain meticulously kept suit.
It made me think of someone Grand ma Mazur would be interested in. He didn't look like a homicidal manic. Not that Elmer the Fire Farter did, but he looked well kept. Hell even his photo seemed to radiate calm, gentleness. He wasn't just out there smiling, but his photo made you want to smile. I bet he was soft spoken, never losing patience.
"He looks so unobtrusive." Connie commented. Even Lulu nodded in agreement. "He must have one of the gentlest souls."
"Shit." Vinnie groaned.
"The Japanese man Ken Washee, Washe-i-e-o. Well what ever the hell his name is swore, he saw him standing over the judges' body with the scythe. And everyone saw him standing over Moose with that damn scythe."
"And uhm let me guess you bonded him out? And this is after you saw him with this scythe standing over Moose."
"The staff is made of solid gold. Hell yes I bonded him out. But now he's missing."
"Don't you think he might be a little dangerous for me?"
"Rangers going out of town do you want it or not."
I shrugged. "What's in it for me?"
"Ten Thousand."
Oh yes, my mouth formed a big O and dollar signs clicked in my eyes. I snatched the folder marked Azrael from Vinnie and signed the papers before the brain swelling he must be suffering from went back down.