Tom sighed and carefully sat the knife down on the desk in front of him. "Where could she be?" he asked himself, rubbing a hand over his face. "Where could she be?"
Emmeline, Madeline's mother, had been out searching for her every day since her disappearance. She was afraid to go to the police about it, for Emmeline knew that her husband and his buddies were up to no good. However, she didn't want to know exactly what they were into, and she never asked.
Tom himself only left the apartment under the cover of night. He was worried about his daughter, of course, but he couldn't afford to be arrested. The business came before everything else.
Picking up his knife again, Tom sighed. It was time for work. As he stood up, there was a knock at the window. Tom looked out to see Jim, Nate, and Toby standing on the fire escape, and motioned for them to come in. "Change of plans, boys. We can't meet tonight. I got an important hit to make."
"What? You didn't tell us about it before. The other guys are on their way already," Jim said.
"Yeah, boss, you used to tell us when you got hits. There a problem?" Nate asked him.
Tom shook his head. "No, there ain't a problem. There's just been a lot on my mind lately." He took a step toward the door and placed his hand on the knob, but turned around to face the three young men. "You boys stay here and let the others know I'm gone. We'll meet tomorrow night."
Jim and Nate nodded as Tom opened the door and left, closing it behind him. Toby was fuming. "Why does he take all the good hits? I ain't had nothin' good since I got started in this business."
"You have to work your way up, Tob," Jim answered, lighting a cigarette confidently and taking a long drag.
Toby said nothing more, but stood up and left the apartment by way of the fire escape.
Racetrack sat in the lobby of the lodging house, puffing on a cigar. He was giving Madeline some privacy; anyway, he thought it was rude to smoke in front of girls. Madeline hated it.
Mush came into the lobby and plopped down beside Race. "Where ya been, Race? You've been kinda scarce lately."
"Eh, here and there," Race muttered, taking a long puff of the cheap cigar and letting it out slowly.
"Sheez, don't be so vague about it. Ya got a girl or somethin'?" Mush asked, grinning and nudging Race.
"No, I ain't got a girl. I've just been busy."
"Oh...well, I guess I'll see ya 'round, Race," Mush said, standing and heading upstairs.
Race sighed. At least Mush can take a hint.
"Now to th' problem at hand," he muttered to himself. "How'm I supposed to keep protectin' her? She can't live in the attic forever."
He stood and paced back and forth. All this would lead to no good, he just knew it.
Tom walked under the cover of shadows toward Duane Street. He had a businessman to hit, and the job promised big bucks.
"Psst! Tom!"
Toby walked quickly to catch up with his boss. "Who ya hittin'?"
"That ain't your concern. You know you're not supposed to follow me," Tom answered, irritated.
"Ah, c'mon, boss. I can help," Toby answered eagerly.
"No, Tob. This ain't your job." Tom quickened his pace and turned down Duane. Toby stayed on his heels, silent.
"Go home, Toby," Tom said firmly, staring the young man down.
The two had stopped under a streetlight illuminating the Newsboys Lodging house sign, and Tom was impatient to get out of the light. Toby glared at him fiercely, a flame appearing in his eyes that Tom had never seen before. A hatred that craved vengeance.
"Not 'till I get mine, Tom."
Toby stood his ground, staring his boss down. "Toby. Go home," Tom instructed, a bit more gently this time, but still as firm.
"No!" Toby screamed in fury, suddenly running at Tom and knocking the middle-aged man to the ground. As Tom fought the strength of the younger man, Toby managed to pull a blade from his pocket and held it to Tom's throat.
"Who's yer hit?!" Toby asked forcefully as Tom lessened his struggle for fear of death by the blade that was positioned against his jugular.
Tom stared up at the young hitman. I should have seen this coming... Tom thought as Toby glared down at him. Tom had thought from the first that Toby's temper would serve him well, but he'd never feared that it would be turned against him.
Suddenly, a cry penetrated the silence of the night.
"Papa!"
Madeline stood on the steps of the lodging house, terror in her eyes. Tom cast his eyes toward his daughter, thankful that she was alive.
Toby, with Tom pinned to the ground, looked at Madeline with a sickening grin, then drove down upon the blade. A look of horror and despair covered Madeline's face as she watched the gruesome scene unfold before her. She let out a piercing scream and fainted dead away on the steps as her father paled and breathed his last.
Toby looked down at his blood-soaked hands and shirt. Then he cast his gaze at Tom, who stared blankly into the night sky, his eyes glazed, face pale. Shaking, Toby pulled himself up to his feet and backed away several paces, his gaze fixed upon the murdered man.
Racetrack rushed outside, first noticing Madeline's unconcious form on the steps. He gathered her into his arms before his eyes rested upon the horrific sight in the street. Toby, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, stared at Racetrack, then back at Tom. Then, he spun and began to run. Before he rounded the corner, however, Toby glanced back one last time at the dead man who lay on the cobblestones.
Kloppman came out the front door and froze in his tracks. "Higgins...get the police."
Racetrack's head whipped around and he stared at Kloppman. "I can't, Klop. She needs me."
Madeline, who had risen back to conciousness, was holding tightly to Race's shirt, her face buried in his chest. He was rocking back and forth, comforting her as she sobbed. Kloppman looked upon the miserable girl with sad eyes. "I'll get Mush," he said quietly, turning and entering the lodging house.
Racetrack looked down at Madeline. "C'mon, Maddie, let's get you inside," he coaxed gently, pulling her to her feet.
"Don't make me look at him, Race. Don't make me look at him," she sobbed, hiding her face in his chest.
"You don't have to look, Maddie. C'mon, let's go inside."
Racetrack gently led Madeline inside, where commotion was mounting as news spread of the murder outside the building. Mush looked at Racetrack grimly as he left the lodging house, averting his eyes from the fallen man, and ran toward the nearest police station.
Racetrack led the trembling Madeline up the stairs to the attic and helped her lie down. He covered her with her blanket.
"Don't leave, Race, please don't," she cried, reaching up and grabbing his hand.
Race sat down beside her and held onto her hand. "I won't leave ya, Maddie. I promise."