Chapter 2.3
September 18th 1990
Sitting in the dark, the shadows cast across the expanse of concrete as the street lights burned bright in the distance, Office Harry Marsh sat patiently as he awaited the arrival of his 'client'. Anxiety beginning to kick in he reached out, his heavy police jacket ruffling as he did so, grabbing the steering wheel with both hands and twisting the tightly wound leather cover until it began to burn. Drumming his fingers and continuing to chew his gum, Harry craned his neck around, checking the side of the car for Tiffany, remembering the last time, her little trick almost setting fire to Harry's groin as she assaulted the car window with a sudden burst of energy.
'No sign.' He thought to himself as he lifted his left hand, twisting his wrist and allowing the sleeve of his jacket to expose his watch, his eyes narrowing as the old retinas struggled to focus.
'Nearly out of time here sweet thing.' Harry thought once more, lowering the driver side window and tossing his tasteless gum outside, turning his head the other way and looking out through the passenger window, the never ending darkness of the concrete maze unsettling to his eyes as Harry casually returned to face front.
"BOO!" The voice screamed in his ear, the open window offering no protection whatsoever.
"Jesus!" Harry grabbed his chest and jumped a mile, a deep breath as he turned instinctively to face Tiffany her face lit up in glee as she began to laugh, bending over as her face sat next to his, the low cut top practically allowing her breasts to fall free, jiggling hypnotically as she laughed.
"Not learning Officer Marsh?" She chuckled as she stood upright.
"You trying to give me a god damn heart attack?" Marsh began to calm down as he let go of his chest, taking a look around to make sure the commotion had passed unnoticed. "Get in! Now!"
Walking across the front of the car, Harry sank back into the soft leather of the driver's seat and found his eyes mysteriously drawn to Tiffany as she began to walk down the side of the car and across the fender. The headlights illuminated the curves of her remarkable figure as time seemed to freeze, Harry's brain capturing each and every frame as his eyes washed over every inch of her voluptuous body. From her cute, yet slightly untidy blonde hair, cascading just below her shoulders, the ends flicking out randomly, a life of their own, Marsh 's eyes flowed further as he sat up a touch. Admiring her generous chest, the low cut dress leaving very little to the imagination, he stared briefly as her breasts wobbled, the tight fabric holding them in place as she walked. Allowing his gaze to drop even further, Harry took in the glorious sight of Tiffany's long, amazing legs, her well toned thighs as with every stride the short dress revealed more, riding up with every step and exposing inch after inch of peachy skin, ending abruptly as the hood of the squad car spoiled the view. The sound of Tiffany's heels clicking constantly against the solid concrete floor sparked a stirring in the old man, a feeling long forgotten as he began to feel the onset of an erection, nowadays a thing of the past as the vision of unbridled beauty made its way around the front of the car and approached the passenger door leaving Office Marsh breathless. He couldn't help but casually allow his eyes one final look as Tiffany yanked the car door open and stepped inside one leg at a time, the perfect flesh on display begging to be touched, kissed, caressed and fondled as Harry was snapped from his daydream by the sound of the car door slamming shut. He looked into Tiffany's face and shook his head slightly, trying not to lose focus.
"So..." Tiffany started as she turned to face him, her back up against the window of the car door, her lips full and tender, glistening in the dull glow of the squad cars cockpit light as she spoke.
"So what?" Harry replied, snapped from his trance.
"You have it?" Tiffany asked.
"That depends." Marsh pulled a cigarette from his inside pocket, placing it between his lips and lighting it, his hands cupped around the end. He held the packet out to Tiffany, but she waved it away, she had more important things to deal with.
"Depends on what?" She was beginning to get agitated.
"You have my money?" Marsh asked, taking a drag from the glowing cigarette.
"You have my package?" She responded, she wasn't about to let Marsh gain the upper hand.
"Look Miss Valentine. We could be here a 'very' long time. No money, no package." Harry let his eyes leave Tiffany for a second, wandering around the exterior of the car.
"Wait here." Tiffany snapped after a matter of seconds.
Opening the car door and disappearing behind the many concrete pillars, she returned seconds later with the sports bag freshly retrieved from beneath her bed. Climbing back in the car, Tiffany held the bag over Harry's lap, dropping it suddenly, the weight making Harry flinch. As his pupils dilated, Harry grabbed the zip of the bag and began to slowly expose the wads of cash waiting within before Tiffany's high pitched voice split the night air once more.
"Where the fuck is my package Harry?" She asked, her patience wearing thin.
Allowing a smile to develop, Harry turned back to Tiffany and simply nodded to the back seat of the squad car, Tiffany following his movements and craning her neck around, the black garbage bag resting on the back seat for all to see. Swinging her left arm over the back of the passenger seat, she fished the bag from the rear of the car and dragged into the front, noticing Harry's eyes were now fixed firmly on the bag joining Tiffany as the anticipation began to bubble over. Holding it up in the light, Tiffany's lips arced in an electric smile as her eyes grew wide in exhilaration, the evidence tag wrapped around the opening to the bag as Tiffany grabbed it and held it up to read.
'BARCLAY CASE
NOVEMBER 88 – CHILD'S DOLL
FULL FORENSIC INVESTIGATION TO CARRY OUT'
Suddenly gripping the tag and curling her fist around it, Tiffany viciously ripped it from the bag before discarding it and carefully separating the thin, plastic opening, peering inside for a second before reaching in and grabbing the contents. Gently removing her hand, Tiffany was amazed. This wasn't what she had expected, not at all. It was the body of a Good Guy doll, no mistake, but what the fuck had happened to it? It was practically destroyed, charred beyond recognition and missing two limbs and its head. The torso of the doll had several cavities across it, stuffing protruding from what looked to Tiffany like bullet holes. As her face changed from one of delight to a more confused and angered expression, she cast her other hand back into the back and fished around once more, but it was no good.
Empty...
"What the fuck is this?" She snapped as she looked straight into the emotionless face of Harry.
"It's what you asked for." He replied calmly. "It's the doll. From the Barclay case."
"No Harry!" Tiffany began to raise her voice as she threw the empty bag into the rear of the car, the doll torso still gripped tightly in her other hand. "This is half a doll!"
"But that's all that's left." Harry held his hands up, an effort to calm Tiffany down.
"I didn't pay you fifty thousand dollars for half a fucking doll you prick!" Tiffany spat. "There's no voice cassette! No head!"
"But..." Harry began, but Tiffany was far from finished.
"This isn't a doll! This is a piece of fucking trash you pathetic cunt!" She carried on, the insults rolling from her lips as she began to get more animated by the second. "This is fucking useless to me! How in the fuck is he supposed to talk to me? Tell me what happened that night? How Harry? Tell me how!"
Seeing her gradually slide from angry to upset, Harry held a hand up and tried to get his head around what Tiffany was saying exactly. He was concerned, what the fuck was she talking about, talk to her? Was she for real?
"Wait a second..." Harry whispered as Tiffany sank back into her seat, tears welling up in her eyes, gliding across the smooth cheeks beneath as she tried to blink them back. All this time, money and work for nothing.
"What?" Tiffany's voice was barely audible.
"You really believe that shit?" He asked, bewilderment possessing him. "You really believe the spirit of Charles Lee Ray was inside that fucking doll? You're crazier than I thought. I mean, jesus Tiffany! You talk like you and he were best fucking friends or something. It's pathetic!"
"What?" Tiffany's head snapped upwards and fixed on Marsh.
"Yeah..." Marsh carried on. "I mean this is the problem. It's women like you, young women, that should be grateful Mike Norris put a bullet in that son of a bitch."
Marsh had no idea the reaction to expect, so it was fair enough that he found himself defenceless, his cigarette dangling from his lips in terror as Tiffany surged forward, dropping the charred remains of the doll into the foot well as her arm shot out, the hand wrapping itself around Marsh's throat as the finger nails sunk into the baggy flesh of Marsh's neck.
"DON'T YOU TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!" Tiffany bellowed fiercely, her face inches from Marsh's as her lips parted in an animal like snarl, the perfect, early white teeth behind clenched shut.
"..." Marsh gasped for air, Tiffany's grip tight enough to cause more than a touch of discomfort.
"I happen to know Charles Lee Ray 'very' well, if you must know." Tiffany's voice grew softer, quieter as she spoke. "Do you get my drift Officer Marsh?"
"..." Marsh tried to reply, instead managing only a slight nod as his eyes began to glass over, staring straight into Tiffany's face.
"In fact, if you must know, he fucked my brains out the night before he died." Her voice was almost a whisper now as her eyes moved over every pore of Marsh's face. "Is that close enough for you? Officer?"
"..." He tried to talk, but his airway was restricted, there was no chance, he was beginning to feel faint, whether through lack of oxygen or fear, he had no idea. Suddenly he managed to take a quick gasp of air as Tiffany's fingers loosened a tiny bit, Marsh seizing his chance and trying to reason with her.
"It's... The best... I could do..." Marsh struggled. "The rest... Was taken... To Play Pals!"
Tiffany instantly let go and recoiled back to her seat, Marsh's hands shooting to his neck as he took deep unforgiving breaths, the inflamed imprints of Tiffany's finger nails feeling coarse under his touch.
"Say that again!" Tiffany ordered.
"It's the truth." Marsh turned to her, still drawing heavy breaths. "Another officer delivered it over there earlier on today."
"If that's the case, then why didn't he take this?" She grabbed the burnt, black torso from the foot well of the car, holding it up before tossing it onto the rear seat of the car.
"They didn't want it." Marsh explained. "After the case was thrown out and Karen Barclay was taken into psychiatric care, Play Pals requested the doll back to run analysis on it. The judge granted them the rights, said they had to calm investors, try and repair the damage that had been done. Only things they asked for were the head and the voice cassette. Presumably to see if somebody tampered with either of them."
Tiffany took a few seconds to think, the news a revelation as it sent shockwaves through her work so far. After thinking about the new events, and her next step, she stopped biting her thumb nail and turned to talk to Marsh again.
"I want my money back." She said.
"No." Marsh grabbed the handles of the bag. "Please no. My wife."
"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR WIFE!" Tiffany screamed, Marsh visibly disturbed.
"Please, calm down." Marsh tried to reason with her again. "I noticed something. The guy they delivered the doll to. He's pretty high up. But he's not without his share of secrets."
"Meaning?" Tiffany snapped.
"He's a kerb crawler, for christ's sake!" Marsh blurted out. "He's already been seen twice in the last ten days down Washington Park with the same girl. Besides Reed's Porno theatre. You know it?"
Tiffany nodded. Not the nicest area, full of drug dealers, gang warfare and prostitution.
"He usually takes a different girl whenever he's down there. But I know for a fact he's hot on this new girl. She's only been there a fortnight. He's been paying her for sex. Only her."
"Why are you telling me this?" Tiffany was getting irate once more.
"She's not just a hooker." Marsh replied. "She's an addict!"
"And...?"
"Do I have to spell it out?" Marsh laughed. "Go down there, talk to her, sort her out a fix and she'll get this guy to you. Then you do what you have to! Maybe he'll walk you into the factory in broad daylight. Maybe you'll have to take care of him and sneak in there with his security clearance. I don't know and I don't care, but I 'need' this money Miss Valentine!"
"Sounds like a lot of hard work Marsh." Tiffany sighed. "Who's the girl?"
Marsh grabbed his notepad from the breast pocket of his jacket and quickly scribbled a name, tearing the paper from the pad and folding it before handing it to Tiffany.
"That's her name!" Marsh seemed panicky. "It wasn't me that gave you it. Just please. Give it a try."
"This doesn't look like it cost fifty grand Officer!" Tiffany complained as she grabbed the folded piece of paper, unfolding it and reading whatever Marsh had written before folding it back up.
Harry gulped, if anything, Tiffany had proven this last ten minutes that she was capable of anything, and if what she said earlier about her and Charles Lee Ray was correct, then he was already in danger. Just as he was preparing for Tiffany to fly into rage once more, Harry was caught pleasantly off guard as she seemed to relax and smile, laugh almost.
"Lucky for you I'm in a good mood Harry!" Tiffany turned and threw open the car door, swinging her legs out before standing tall and beginning to walk off, disappearing into the evening, the 'click' of her heels beginning to get quieter and quieter before eventually fading into sheer silence.
Leaning back and resting his head against the head rest of the driver's seat Marsh took deep breaths and began to calm down, the severity of the situation beginning to dawn on him as he replayed the last fifteen minutes over and over in his head, the events a blur as the cool September breeze blew in through the open window beside him. Realising he was still sat with a sports bag full of money, fifty thousand dollars to be exact, Marsh felt something he hadn't felt for a long time, and this time it wasn't a flow of blood to long lost body part. It was optimism. For the first time in god knows how long, the future seemed to be looking much clearer as he set about figuring out how to tell his wife that she could face this thing knowing that she would be getting the very best care available. Allowing his hands to run over the length of the sports bag sat on his lap, Harry grabbed the zip and opened it, peering in and rubbing his hands in ecstasy as he plucked one of the many wads of $10 bills from inside, Marie's salvation sitting right here on his lap. It was about that moment, just as he was beginning to picture the future, a good future, that Harry noticed something off. Holding the wad of cash to his face and using the thumb of his free hand to fan the notes he felt his heart sink and his stomach almost empty. The top five notes were real alright. But underneath was some kind of toy town money, either from a kid's play set, or a board game. Although he already knew the answer, Harry dropped the wad back into the bag, picking up a different stack of notes and doing the same to them, the breeze as they rapidly parted under his thumb slamming into his face like a ton of bricks. The same again. The top five bills were legitimate, but after that... Fake. Furrowing his brow, Harry leaned forward and took a good look inside, his face hovering just above the open sports bag, the wads of notes on offer all seeming to be the same. Caught completely off guard, Harry was surprised no end as he felt his hair gripped fiercely, his head pulled back in one fluid motion as he felt the cold, slashing sensation across his throat, the fine edge of the blade cutting his skin to ribbons, over and over again at an alarming, sickening rate. As the adrenaline started pumping, Harry did what any other man would do and gripped his hands around his neck, the blade now slicing into the skin across his knuckles as the assailant took great pleasure in making sure the job was done. Harry's body started convulsing, his body temperature declining immediately as the unrelenting river of blood washed over his hands and soaked the shirt beneath his jacket, Tiffany appearing before him, leaning in through the open window of the Chicago P.D squad car. Turning her head and staring Harry in the face, she gave a little smile and a wink, giggling and lifting her index finger to her lips in a 'shushing' motion as she zipped the sports bag closed and lifted it from Harry's lap. As she stood upright, taking the bag with her, one last thought crossed Harry's mind as he tried his hardest to scream, not a sound coming from his lips. That was never Harry's money. This was all a set up.
As Tiffany skipped playfully away from the car, the soft skin of her bare feet gliding over the dusty cement floor without making so much as a sound, she rounded a concrete pillar and stopped, squatting to pick up her stilettos, her fingers weaving their way around the straps as she threw them over her shoulder as she began walking once more into the dark September evening, throwing her head back and allowing a full blooded roar of laughter to escape as the horn of the squad car suddenly sounded out, echoing around the vacant area under the overpass. Into the night the horn blared as Officer Harry Marsh finally gave up the ghost and found peace. The horn eventually alerting the proprietor of the nearby 7/11, causing him to step outside and investigate the disturbance as the last hope of the Marsh family slipped away.
Just one hour had passed since Tiffany had left Officer Harry Marsh, alone, bleeding to death as blood sprayed from the gaping wound left in his throat. Now as she laid on the couch, the darkness outside the window contrasting with the illuminated interior of the living room, she turned the paper over and over in her hands, unfolding it before jamming it back in her pocket once more. She figured things could be worse though, it wasn't as though it had cost her any money. She realised the irony of that thought and allowed her lips to form a smile, giggling a touch as she heard the living room door open. Looking up expecting to see Evan race in before disappearing again, she found herself pleasantly surprised to find him standing there, flanked by one of his few friends. With greasy long hair and spectacles that reminded Tiffany of John Lennon, she recognised this friend as Sam, one of Evan's friends from the college. With only half of Evan's weight, but twice the intelligence, Sam had a concerned look on his face as he turned from Tiffany to Evan, before returning his gaze to Tiffany, laid on the couch in a relaxed manner. Tiffany turned to Evan, whose demeanour was the exact opposite of his confused friend, his face hanging low as his eyes looked up, a menacing expression stamped across every inch of his body, from his face to his stance as his arms hung by his sides, fists clenched.
"Hello boys." Tiffany had to laugh as she took in the sight of the two pathetic looking friends.
Silence greeted her.
"Is there something you want?" She'd had a long night as it was. She didn't want to add to it.
"You fucking think you're something don't you?" Evan snarled.
"Sorry, I think what?" Tiffany was confused.
"You pull a knife on me again Tiff, and you'd better be prepared to use it!" He continued.
"Oh that..." She started, Evan cutting her off.
"Well I've had enough." He grunted, his arm nudging Sam on the shoulder. "You owe me two weeks rent! Now it's time for me and my friend Sam here to collect."
Sam laughed as he focused on Tiffany, lying on the couch, her flesh barely covered by the little amount of fabric.
"Get 'er Sam!" Evan ordered as Sam tore from his place.
Lunging at Tiffany, giving her no time to move, Sam hurled himself through the air as his hair flew out behind him, every movement a blur as Tiffany acted automatically. Lifting her leg at just the right time, Sam was helpless as he came down, the sole of Tiffany's bare foot crashing into his face as he felt his teeth loosen, the multiple cracks coming from his nose as he closed his eyes and screamed, the pain rippling through his head as blood sprayed from his face, Tiffany closing her eyes as she prepared to miss, luckily opening them to find her foot had landed bang on target. As Evan stood and witnessed, he was dumbstruck, shock evident as he turned to his stricken friend rolling on the floor and screaming as his face began to swell.
"Jesus Christ!" Evan screamed at him.
Getting her bearings quickly, Tiffany leapt from the couch, her instincts telling her she stood better chance of defending herself on foot than she did on her back. Sure enough the next wave of attack came as Evan lifted his head and fixed his eyes on her, tearing at her instantly with a roar of insanity as he lowered his head and charged. Thinking quickly Tiffany simply stepped to one side and watched on in horror as Evan missed her completely and ran head first into the glass cabinet, a present from Evan's parents on his acceptance to college, something for him to store photographs, various certificates and keepsakes in. The almighty sound of glass shattering, splintering and falling to the ground as it cut Evan to ribbons, was enough to make a grown man weep. Blood started to spread across the floor as Tiffany turned and examined the scene, chaos and devastation reigning as the two men lay motionless on the floor, their plan to extract revenge lying in tatters. Tiffany walked slowly to the door of the living room, not knowing quite what to think, her mind racing at the sudden onset of violence. Caught completely by surprise as Evan managed to drag himself to his feet, quickly regaining his balance, Tiffany found him suddenly charging at her again as she realised and ran into the hall, Evan throwing himself at her as his arms wrapped around her body tightly. Crashing into the wall, the two of them fell to the floor, Tiffany still struggling to break free as she attempted to stand, Evan quickly following as he grabbed her shoulders and spun her round, his forehead crashing into her face as she felt the hallway start to spin. Stars circling, she dropped to her ass, dizzy from the sudden blow as her vision deteriorated rapidly, the tugging at her shoulders hurting as Evan dragged her to her feet and launched her into the wall, the hard plaster cracking, feeling cold against her back as she gasped, the wind knocked from her lungs as Evan held one, spinning her round once more, throwing her across the narrow hallway and into the opposite wall, Tiffany practically bouncing off it as Evan charged at her again. Thinking quickly, Tiffany lifted her foot and kicked Evan between the legs, her shot causing him to double over immediately, his face the next to feel the fury of Tiffany Valentine as she kicked, this time using her other foot, the blow landing smack in the centre of Evan's face and causing him to hurtle back into the wall behind him. With adrenaline pumping, Tiffany dropped to her knees and grabbed her bag, grabbing her knife before returning to her standing position and charging at Evan as he stood dazed against the wall. Fury gripping her tightly she grabbed his shoulder and pressed him firmly against the now crumbling plaster of the wall, the knife in her other hand slicing through his shirt and into the flesh beneath as Tiffany threw her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Without any time to think about her next move, the sudden influx of fresh air sent her hurtling backwards through time, her eyes closed, her surroundings dark as she found herself reminiscing. The night she had first met Chucky. The alleyway, the tramp, the fear coarsing through her, chilling her to the bone as she witnessed her life flash before her eyes. Then suddenly 'he' had appeared, from the shadows, her knight in shining armour as he dealt with her assailant, no trouble at all as he had wrapped the thin wire around his neck and twisted his hands, the tramp's eyes rolling back as his brain quickly became starved of oxygen. Then her rescuer had spoke. Told her his name, asked her if she was alright. But all Tiffany felt was a rage, burning, rising from deep within as she snapped and took her vengeance. She felt a shiver wash over her as she remembered the way the knife, gripped firmly in her hand, sliced through the flesh of the nearly dead homeless man, the blood trickling from his open wound as Tiffany fell into a trance, the next thing she knew Chucky was walking with her, his overcoat draped across her shoulders as she recovered feeling in her body and walked with him, listening to his words. The more he spoke, the more sense he made as his voice gently whistled through her ears and cast a spell of evil enchantment. Suddenly, Tiffany returned to the present. Feeling her spine tingle, she giggled, the warm feeling of blood spreading across the back of her hand as it began to drip to the floor with a 'splat', the sound becoming more frequent as the blood began to flow. Now, opening her eyes, she stared dead ahead and into Evan's face, pale and ashen, the shock evident as he winced at the pain now beginning to race through his body. Looking down to the knife handle resting in her hand, Tiffany quickly withdrew the length of the blade and watched on as Evan dropped to the hard wood floor, the blood now beginning to spread from the open wound and grow into a pool around his body, still and silent. Coming round slightly, and realising the severity of the situation, Tiffany turned and slipped on her heels, quickly tying the thin straps around her ankles for the second time that night, before heading for the door. Turning for one last time, her eyes registering the carnage left behind, Tiffany smiled and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She couldn't stay here now but that didn't matter.
Things were different these days. Nobody fucked with Tiffany Valentine.
She knew where she had to go next as she flagged a taxi, prising the bust of her dress open and pulling a wad of bills from their hiding place between her breasts.
"Where to Miss?" The cab driver asked as he turned off his light and looked in the mirror, Tiffany sliding in and closing the door behind her in a hurry.
"East Roosevelt Road, the subway station there." Tiffany spoke as she looked into the unforgiving cold Chicago night. "And be quick about it!"
Reaching the station and hopping quickly aboard the subway train, Tiffany turned as the doors slid shut behind her, the engines of the cart whirring into life as the wheels screeched and the train headed down the green line. Tiffany's stop? Washington Park, as she remembered the words of Chicago P.D Officer, Harry Marsh.
"He's hot on this new girl. Only been there a fortnight. Paying her for sex. Only her. Not just a hooker. An addict!" She could see him now, sat in the driver's seat, becoming increasingly concerned for his new found wealth as he scribbled her name in his note pad, tearing the page and folding it before handing it to Tiffany. "Go down there, talk to her, sort her out a fix and she'll get this guy to you!"
Taking the folded paper from her jacket pocket and opening it up, Tiffany glanced at the name once more. It may take time, but by the sounds of what Marsh had said, this girl hung around the Washington Park area, the red light district on East Garfield Boulevard. Reed's Porn Theatre was as seedy an establishment as one could hope to stumble across, which was probably the reason the girls descended upon the place every night. Not one to complain about the dozens of girls hanging around his business night after night, Dominic Reed probably relied upon them to bring in fresh business. Nevertheless, she had to try and get down there, find this girl as quickly as possible. It may lead to nothing in the end, but she'd kick herself if she didn't at least try and get inside the Play Pals factory, find that head, the voice cassette. Looking up as she sat on the hard, plastic seat she felt a feeling of somebody watching her, turning her head and finding an old man sat a couple rows back and facing her from his seat along the side of the otherwise empty subway carriage. A toothless grin, covered by a face of dirty, matted facial hair, Tiffany noticed the old man to be smiling at her. In her peripheral vision, something seemed off, as Tiffany allowed her eyes to drop slowly fall over the khaki rain coat, covered in stains, some the result of numerous nights spent sleeping rough. The others, the result of 'accidents' of some kind in the trouser variety. As she soaked in the haggard figure sat behind her, her eyes reached the groin section of the man, his hands buried deep in his pockets as his long coat flapped up and down, his grunting only just audible over the humming and chugging of the wheels of the train. With not a sound emanating from his direction, the look on his face told a sick story as his eyes followed her body from the top of her head to the very bottom of her spiked heels.
"For fucks sake!" Tiffany whispered as she turned her head to face forward, the masturbating vagrant behind her serving only to irritate her as she folded the paper up one more time and replaced it in her pocket. Crossing her legs and pulling her jacket closed around her torso, Tiffany prayed to God that she'd reach the East Garfield stop quickly, the time on the subway train indicating it was almost 11pm.
Soon enough, Tiffany heard a groan from a couple rows back as the tramp gently stood and began to stumble down the other end of the train, opening the door into the next carriage, the noise from outside getting slightly louder, quietening down as the door slid shut once more. Shaking her head and starting to laugh, Tiffany howled to herself as the train rocked along, the announcement signalling her stop up ahead as she felt the wheels underneath start to slow to a steady halt. What with Officer Marsh, Evan and Sam, what the fuck did a masturbating tramp have to worry her so much? Standing and grabbing the pole running along the roof of the carriage, Tiffany made her way to the doors as the train pulled into her stop and slowly ground to a halt, the doors quickly sliding open as she stepped out into the bitter night. Her legs felt the freezing breeze more than any other part of her body, the short dress perhaps not the best idea she'd ever had. Heading along the platform Tiffany reached the staircase in no time at all. Reed's was about 4 blocks west of her current location, which wouldn't have been a problem. But this was Washington Park, and as she reached the bottom of the steps and rounded the corner onto East Garfield, she immediately spotted trouble. Two rival gangs were arguing on the street, one gang surrounding the other with their cars as the two 'leaders' traded insults as they pulled guns from the backs of their pants. This was looking to be a no go zone, as Tiffany quickly sunk backwards into the shadows, her eyes flitting across the street and attempting to locate a safe route through to Reed's. The only thing coming anywhere near was an alleyway, but for all Tiffany knew, there was just as bad a scenario awaiting her that way. But with no other option available, Tiffany decided to take it, in one pocket sat the written note from Officer Marsh, the other sat her trusty knife/nail file. She peered from around the corner and down the street at the two gangs, way too busy turning on each other to notice her as she tried to quickly sprint across the street and into the alleyway, turning right as she did so and heading behind the rows of shops and drug dens. It was quiet, albeit for the sound of a couple arguing somewhere, up ahead as the voices began to grow louder. Not sounding like a usual domestic, Tiffany pressed herself to a wall, the voices seeming to come from just around the corner as she listened in. One thing became very clear, this wasn't a couple. This was a hooker, and her pimp. Slowly, Tiffany edged to the corner of the wall and peered around, the woman backed into a corner as the man twice her size herded her in, his shadow growing on the wall behind her as she began to plead, beg.
"Now I'm gonna ask you one more time." He spat at her, his neck muscles bulging as he spoke, his thick jaw wagging visibly from behind his shaven head as his arms shot out in a questioning manner, the denim jacket tightly gripping his biceps.
"I've told you I don't know Johnny!" The girl began to weep. Standing at about 6 feet tall, Tiffany figured she'd be nearer to about 5' 7' without the heels. Hispanic looking, with the skinniest figure and the longest legs Tiffany had ever seen, she was attractive for a working girl, her thick brunette hair quickly pushed away from her face, flowing long locks falling every which way as her thick, full lips moved in abject desperation.
"And I've told you BULLSHIT!" Johnny snarled as he grabbed her and pushed her into the corner, the girl screaming as he manhandled her, his vice like grip too much for her arms.
"Johnny, you're hurting me baby!" She pleaded once more.
"Then tell me Gee." He calmly whispered. "Where's my fucking money?"
"I gave you it all. It was all there!" Tiffany figured the girl must be telling the truth. Either that or she had a way better pain threshold and was one fine actress.
"No it isn't Gee." Johnny released her as he began to turn away, pace backwards and forwards behind her, the alleyway stacked with boxes, planks of wood, oil drums, offering no room for him to move up and down.
"You've gotta believe me." She begged as she took a step forward and reached out, grabbing his jacket sleeve gently. Without a word of warning, Johnny spun and swung his arm, the back of his hand catching her square in the cheek, knocking her from her feet as she fell into the corner of the alleyway, mice and rats scurrying away in fear as she landed.
"YOU THINK I'M FUCKING STUPID?" He screamed.
"No." The girl began to sit up, the palm of her hand held flush against her bruised cheek, her short dress torn along the side as she landed roughly.
"Then tell me." Johnny asked as he squatted before her, hands held together in prayer as he attempted to remain calm. "You were a hundred down the other night. You're already fifty down tonight. Where the fuck is my money you lying piece of shit whore?"
Tiffany had heard enough, stepping from the shadows as Johnny stood, the girls eyes glancing her but refusing to focus, not flinching as she watched Tiffany approach and grab a long plank of wood, resting across two oil drums just behind Johnny as he stood and raised his foot. He was just about to unleash a hailstorm of kicks as Tiffany brought the wood crashing down across the back of his head, the plank splintering into two pieces immediately and crashing to the floor as Johnny fell, hitting his head on the hard concrete as he did so. Dropping to her knees, Tiffany pulled the knife from her pocket and raised it high in the air, about to fetch it crashing down, until suddenly, she felt something around her wrist. Looking up, she noticed it was the girl, now stood beside and gripping her arm tightly.
"No." The girl cried. "Don't kill him!"
Stunned, Tiffany turned to Johnny, beginning to squirm as he came to his senses, his head shaking as he tried to clear the stars no doubt circling his head and clouding his vision.
"I'm not gonna kill him." Tiffany smiled as the girl released her wrist. "I'm just gonna slow him down. Run, now as fast as you can."
With that the girl raced to the opening of the alleyway, the street light filtering through as she stopped and watched as Tiffany brought the knife crashing down on the back of Johnny's calf, the bloodcurdling shriek echoing through the night as voices instantly hollered out into the night, telling whoever was making the noise to keep it down. Standing and running as fast as her heels would allow, Tiffany caught up with her new friend by the entrance to the alleyway, stopping as they both turned to see Johnny start to stand, the blood pouring from the back of his leg as he spun and fixed his eyes on them, the wound in his leg slowing him as he limped after them, gradually picking up the pace.
"Now." Tiffany motioned to the street. "GO!"
As one, the two girls headed into the street, racing down the row of rundown buildings, the lights in every one extinguished as they heard the scream of Johnny in the distance behind them, emerging from the alley and beginning to pick up the pace, his rage working as an anaesthetic as he ran. Within minutes the girls rounded the corner of the block and ran, Tiffany spotting a shop doorway with a light on, ducking inside and grabbing the girl, just as Johnny rounded the corner after them. Thinking quickly, Tiffany slammed the shop door closed and immediately hit the light switch on the wall, casting the small area into darkness as she locked the door, the two girls crouching by the window as the hulking figure tore past, confused as he screamed into the night. After leaving it a few seconds, Tiffany started to nervously giggle, the adrenaline beginning to subside as the street outside returned to silence, the growling voice dying in the distance. She turned to the girl, who also had a relieved smile on her face. Looking at each other the two girls embraced, Tiffany's new best friend eternally grateful. The silence was of course fractured by the tattoo artist parting the beads leading to his studio as the constant droning of tattoo needles reverberated around the small shop, the buzzing becoming more obvious as the two girls calmed down.
"The hell happened out here?" The tattoo artist asked puzzled, his face littered with piercings, his huge arms crawling in ink.
"Sorry." Tiffany laughed as she turned and flicked the switch, the small shop illuminating magically, the colours leaping from the four walls surrounding them.
"Thank fuck for that." The artist spoke. "I thought a damn bulb had blown."
The girls laughed as they began to look at the various pictures. Snakes coiled round daggers, scrolls with bible verses, animals, crosses, banners with names. You name it, this guy did it.
"So what are you girls after?" The man spoke, crossing his arms.
"Oh we're not after anything." The un-named girl replied softly. True enough Tiffany now noticed a slight hint of an accent.
Tiffany was just about to agree with her as something caught her eye.
"Oh I wouldn't say that." She smiled, lifting her finger and tapping on a picture of a small red heart, the dagger sticking in the left hand side giving it a more 'personal' touch.
It only took 30 minutes. Ended up costing Tiffany $45, but what the hell, she'd been wanting to do it for ages, but never gotten round to it, taking it as a sign, fate working with her for once as she found herself accidentally locked in a tattoo parlour. The artist had been determined to add something else, ideally a flame beneath. Said it would depict Tiffany's "burning love for whoever this Chucky guy was." Now sitting on the couch of this strange girl's dirty, cluttered apartment, Tiffany touched her breast and slightly winced, the tender skin feeling painful to touch. But it was worth it. She had opted to have a name above the heart, the name of her one true love, emblazoned across the top for all to see, a testament to her feelings for Chucky as the knife plunged in. She was just finishing her cup of coffee as the girl appeared in the doorway of the living room, her dressing gown almost transparent against the bright light of the hallway after quickly getting changed and slipping into a hot bath. From what she had told Tiffany on the way over, her name was Gabriella. She'd not been in Chicago too long, running away from her abusive husband back in Florida after they'd made the trip over from Cuba just two years ago. She'd made Tiffany a hot drink as a way of saying thank you, for helping deal with Johnny.
"It's getting late." Gabriella spoke quietly
"Yeah. I should go." Tiffany quietly answered as she placed her cup on the messy coffee table and stood to her feet. She'd been glad of the rest, a chance to get out those heels. Why she didn't own a pair of sneakers was beyond her. They'd have come in damned handy tonight, that was for sure. She bent over and grabbed her heels, starting to walk towards the door.
"No." Gabriella put her hand out and grabbed Tiffany by the wrist. "Please. Stay. I don't want to be alone. Not if he comes looking for me."
"Well I may not be much use without the element of surprise." Tiffany laughed.
"I know." Gabriella smiled, her beautiful Cuban face now sporting a slightly swollen cheek and the mother of all bruises. "But you'd be doing me a favour Tiffany. You can have the spare room, across from mine."
Tiffany didn't seem to need a second invitation as she stroked Gabriella's arm, her eyes falling on Tiffany as she grabbed it and brought it to her face, kissing the back of her hand.
"Thank you." Gabriella spoke, her full lips curving into a beaming grin. "I'll see you in the morning my friend."
With that Tiffany simply nodded and headed down the hall, Gabriella watching her every inch of the way, Tiffany feeling her eyes covering every square inch as she walked, slowly turning and closing the bedroom door behind her. Hanging her jacket over the chair sat beside the bed, Tiffany slumped, sitting on the mattress in a trance for a few seconds, before long feeling a sensation she hadn't felt for a while ripple through her body as things started to look better. Standing and unzipping her dress, she allowed it to fall to the floor before running her thumbs under the waist band of her thin lace underwear and rolling her panties to the floor, kicking them on top of the dress. Climbing into bed, Tiffany reached over to the chair and dug her hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, retrieving Officer Marsh's handwritten note. Unfolding it, she lay back and rested her head against the headboard, her lips smirking ever so slightly, eventually turning into a grin as she read the name on the note out loud and thanked her lucky stars.
"Gabriella!"