I can't help but roll my eyes. "Yeah, I got that part," I say dryly. "What can I do for you, Miss Monroe?"
"I need you to find someone for me." She steps further into my office as she rummages through her purse for something. Behind her, I see Stella looking at me. She gives me a smile. I raise my eyebrows. You're leaving me in here with her?
She mouths, Behave yourself, before closing the door.
Monroe jumps as the door squeaks shut. But she finally has something in her hand. She hands it to me. It's a photograph of a young man. He's wearing glasses and a decent cut suit. What interests me more is that it's only half a picture. It's been torn in two. He's carrying a small pistol in the photo. I look up at her. "And who might this be?" I ask her.
She inspects my chair that I have for clients to sit in, trying to see if it's flea-infested or something, I suppose, and finally decides its safe to sit down. "That is my boyfriend, Danny Messer," she explains. "He's a little taller than me, blonde hair, he's got blue eyes you could lose yourself in..." she stops.
"Why is the picture in half? His old flame next to him?"
"It's him and some...business associates," Monroe replies. From her tone I can tell she doesn't approve of whatever...business, her boyfriend is in.
"No offense, sweetheart, but he doesn't exactly look like the Fifth Avenue type," I tell her as I study the picture. I am picking out other things in the picture, like the type of gun he's holding and the background of the picture.
"He's from the Bronx," Monroe replies. "Obviously, my family doesn't approve."
"So, why am I lookin' for him?" I ask her. "Daddy threaten him for tryin' to court his little princess? He run off and now you're tryin' to find him so you can elope?"
Monroe looks at me, clearly annoyed with my attitude. "Danny works for Sonny Sassone."
Sassone. I narrow my eyes. That's a name I know. Sonny Sassone, he's like the Al Capone of New York City. He's got his fingers in everything. The cops have been tryin' to bust him for runnin' a bunch of speakeasies and brewin' his own booze, but they can't pin anything on him. I also suspect he's makin' more than just alcohol. He's a ruthless son of a bitch, something I know all too well. "How'd he get messed up with Sassone?" I ask.
She crosses her legs, and her skirt slides up her leg just a little. Enough so I notice. "He had a job at his uncle's linoleum factory until they went under. Danny was looking for work. He just thought he was running errands, you know," she says. She looks up at me and smiles sadly. "That was how I met him. He shared a cab with me one night...we hit it off right away. My father, of course, didn't approve of him. But there was something about him, he had a...a dangerous air about him." She's blushing now. Kid's in love, that much is obvious. "Anyway," she continues, "as is what usually happens, he got in too deep. He found out about what Sassone really does when the speakeasies close at midnight."
"So what happened then?" I ask her. I have a feeling I have an idea. Obviously, Messer stumbled onto something he wasn't supposed to see, Sassone found out, and decided to make him disappear.
"Danny turned into a rat," Monroe says.
Ah. Wasn't expecting that.
"He was going to go to the police and tell them everything," she tells me. She's starting to cry, pulls out a handkerchief from her clutch and dabs at her eyes. "He said he wanted to-to do right by me. Do something that would make me proud of him." The tears are fallin' like Niagara Falls now. And I ain't much good at this whole comfortin' a woman thing. She looks up at me. "He was supposed to meet me last night...but he never showed up. He's never been late to see me, and he was going to go to the cops today. I haven't seen or heard from him. I've gone to all the places he might hide out, but haven't found him yet."
She surprises me, this Fifth-Avenue girl. If this Danny Messer is lower class and workin' for Sassone, then the places he might hide out are about as far from Fifth Avenue as you can get. She's startin' to impress me now.
"So why don't you go to the police?" I ask her. I know the Chief at Precinct 6. Taylor. He's a good guy. We butt heads occasionally, but I got nothin' but respect for him.
"Please," she scoffs, in a tight voice that shocks me. "The police won't go looking for one gangster. As far as they're concerned, my Danny is buried in a field somewhere." She leans forward, puts her hands on my desk, and looks me right in the eye. "Sir, I know that he is still out there. He's smart, he's got street sense. And he's not dead. I would know," she says, her voice breaking again. "I-I would feel it."
Taylor and the NYPD are probably right. "Her" Danny is probably six feet under somewhere. But I want Sassone. I want him so bad I can taste it. And I've been around Stella Bonasera enough to know that there's somethin' to women's intuition. If I can find this Messer kid, get him in to protective custody, he could maybe blow the whole Sassone ring wide open. Justice would finally catch up with the son of a bitch.
"I'll pay you whatever it takes. I have the money, my father left me his estate-" Money hadn't even crossed my mind yet, to be honest. I'm more concerned with nailing Sassone than anything. I hold up a hand, cutting her off at the pass. "Miss Monroe, I'll take your case."
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