Chapter 13 Bad for Business
South Chicago April 8, 1929
The car bounced up and down on the streets of Chicago. Andre drove by streets he would normally never come within a mile of, but this was hardly normal. The headlights of the car lit up the dismal scene, boarded up homes and businesses lined the streets, and the alleys were covered in dirt and grime. The street was dilapidated and the poor suspension in the car made that painfully evident. A light rain had started up and was making the already poor road evermore dangerous.
"So where is this place anyway Rouliani, we've been driving around here forever." Rouliani ignored him, as he was busy with his nose in some kind of book. Andre shoved him to get his attention.
"Hey! Wake up! Where am I supposed to go?" Rouliani closed up the leather-bound book and smacked Andre on top of the head with it.
"Shut it, take the next left, I'm making sure we weren't tailed." Rouliani went back to his book and continued to study it.
"What is that thing anyway?" Andre asked. Rouliani had been leafing through it for nearly a half hour and had hardly blinked since opening it.
"Call it my little black book, it is what I use for record keeping, that and it makes for easy accounting. Andre snuck a peek inside and saw the names and descriptions of people, animals, services and other nefarious deeds. It made sense as Rouliani was one of the best smugglers Andre had come across.
"This turn?" Andre asked, referencing the upcoming street. Rouliani looked up and took off his glasses.
"Yeah, that's it" The car turned down the street and it looked a mess, boxes and crated were piled on either side in no particular order and the ground was wet from the rain. There was one thing that looked completely out of place here. A well built and customized luxury car. The exclusive vehicle had all of the modern amenities from fine Italian leather to what looked like supercharger. It was the pinnacle of luxury and was anointed in a flashy cherry red paint job.
"What a car. What is that, a Morgan?" Rico said as he took in the machine.
"If you want to gawk at somebody else's car then go to a damn car show we have work to do." Andre said, rather annoyed. Rouliani walked up to a metal door and knocked twice. A slit in the door opened.
"Mary had a little lamb." a voice said from the other side.
"Its fleece was gold." Rouliani said back. A series of clicks and knocks on the other side gave a hint of the security on the other side. When the door opened it revealed two men with trench coats, likely concealing body armor, both also held a shotgun in their hands with the barrels leveled out the door on the other side. Rico made a small noise when he saw the weapons pointed at him.
"Easy gentlemen." Rouliani held up a hand. "These men are with me." The shotgun toting guards exchanged a look and lowered their weapons. "Good, now will you three kindly follow me down?" Rouliani led them inside. There was a narrow stairway heading underground, Tony had a hard time getting his heavily muscled frame down the confined space. At the bottom of the stairway was what looked like a small rail with what looked like coal cars on it.
"It used to be a coal transport system so they could heat the buildings in the Loop. I arranged this little offshoot to transport something altogether more profitable." Andre flipped on a flashlight and shown the light inside of the car. Inside, no less than a hundred glass bottles reflected the light back at him, the amber liquid inside casting a warm glow. Rouliani snatched up a bottle and pulled off the cork. He lifted the bottle to his lips and tipped it back slightly.
"Ah, best we have, want a sip?" Rouliani held out the bottle to Andre.
"I'm good." Andre returned. Rico however, accepted the bottle and took a swig of the whiskey. The skinny man coughed after the liquor flowed into his mouth, the swig of the alcohol burned wonderfully all the way down.
"My is that strong!"
"180 proof, and about bucks twenty a bottle. This gentlemen, is liquid gold." Farther down the tunnel, a loud bluster could be heard. Followed by the sharp sound of a slap in the face. A man ran out of the darkness with a bruise developing on his face. Who came next was none other than Capone, Andre had a short look of contempt sweep over him then he quickly returned to normal.
"Burned to the ground? The whole damn place burned to the ground?" Capone bellowed. He stared Rouliani in the eye and smacked him with the back of his hand across Rouliani's face. The signet ring on his one finger cut into the poor man's cheek, leaving a gash behind. "Do you know how much we had in that hole?" Rouliani began to answer but Capone hit him in the gut. "Don't talk till I say so! Guns, money, booze, you're stupid animals. Millions of dollars of product, all of it burnt or in the hands of the damn cops!" Capone hit him again, doubling Rouliani over; next Capone kicked him in the gut and knocked him into the side of the wall. Capone produced a pistol and pointed it in Rouliani's face. "Do you know how much you are worth to me? Less than the bullet in this gun, so I'm not gonna shoot you like some dog. Take him away." Capone's bodyguard wrestled Rouliani off of the floor and dragged him down the dark tunnel. Andre began to walk after him.
"Hey where do you think you are going with him?" Capone stuck the handgun into Andre's face, stopping him in his tracks.
"Mr. Zacherov, don't you even move you Ruski piece of crap. You are not family, the only reason you three haven't eaten a bullet yet is because I know that those dogs you got escaped and are wandering around town. I want them back, and you are the best at what you do. So get going, take Rouliani's car before I change my mind."
"I just wanted to tell him this." Andre hit Rouliani in the chest, making the sort Italian gag. "That is for being an ass."
"Aright that is enough, if anybody is gonna pound the piss out of this dumbass, it's gonna be me." Capone turned away, but before he did he pointed to the ground where Rouliani was before, there was a small pool of blood there. "And somebody clean this up!" The gangster stalked down the dark passageway and Andre looked at the small black book in his hand. He slipped it into his jacket without arousing suspicion.