The ghost and his siren lover watched from the cold darkness of the room as their hostage lost his strength, his life slipping away with every passing second he was left to dangle in the chains and bleed uncontrollably from his many wounds. The entire room was icy cold, the air heavy with dust, mold and fresh blood. If the two ghosts were capable of feeling anything beside rage it was possible they'd be nauseated by the scene that they had willingly created.

'He is resilient.' The siren complimented as Egon clung to life despite his devastating injuries. 'His death would affect his friends greatly.'

'He is... fortunate...' The ghost still wheezed despite his voice growing stronger. 'His friends are... loyal... I was not so... lucky...' Taking the sirens hand in his own the ghost delved into his their shared past. 'I had only... you...'

'We had each other.' The siren whispered softly. 'No one will tear us apart again.'

The ghost glared at Egon with its burning red hot eyes. 'Then soon he... will have to leave us...'

Egon never moved. His body was as still as the room was dark.

'It is for the best.' The siren decided. 'He and his friends will come for us, imprison us, divide us.'

'I will not... allow it...'

Raising her hand again the siren transformed the fingers on her hand into five sharpened bone daggers. 'I offer this one final chance,' the siren called out from the darkness to Egon. 'name your allies and I will be quick and merciful with your death.'

Mustering the fading strength left in his body Egon lifted his head and stared blankly with one eye into the darkness. Responding in a low, hoarse voice barely above a whisper Egon made his final decision. "I name... myself."

Continuing the search for the identity of mystery woman and the fate of 'The Apprentice' on that fateful night in 1937, Peter surrounded himself in piles of aged and worn newspaper articles, while Ray and Winston pulled up every digital file on public record revolving around all of the criminal activity that tore through the city during the deprave decade.

Ray mindlessly scrolled through the numerous articles while Winston read through each line quickly but precisely. Scratching at his healing hand through the dirtied and loosened bandages Ray did his best to endure the extreme pain that overtaken his hand as a result of neglecting proper care. "Anything yet?"

"Nothing." Winston replied with just as much dreariness in his voice as Ray. "How about you Peter?"

"Hmm..." Peter tossed aside a handful of the newspaper clippings when an old photo caught his attention. "I think I may have found something..."

"What's that?" Ray asked as he happily tore his tired eyes away from the bright display screen to look at Peter over his shoulder.

"Check out this photo printed in 1936." He tossed the referenced photo over to Ray who clumsily caught it with both hands. "I think those two make a lovely couple, don't you?"

Ray smoothed out the newspaper on the desk while Winston leaned into take a look. "Hey, you're right! That's 'The Apprentice', and that must be his 'lady friend'!"

Winston agreed. "She sure looks like it. She's hanging onto his arm and smiling like she just walked down the aisle."

The photo that had been uncovered by Peter showed a group of infamous criminals standing outside one of the many illegal gambling clubs that had been owned by 'The Executive'. Aside from the leader himself four other members of his gang, including 'The Apprentice', were gathered around their leader with brash smiles and arrogant postures. On the far left side of the photo stood 'The Apprentice', a man with a strong chin, dark hair that was slicked back under a fedora and dark eyes stood tall as a young beautiful woman, leggy, blonde, blue eyes, ruby red lips and a figure to envy hung from his offered arm.

"She must be the woman that got 'The Apprentice killed!" Ray decided eagerly.

"But who is she?" Winston pointed back to the photo before returning his attention to the display monitor and the article on record. "There aren't any names for any of the people in the article."

Peter leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. "Must've been taken secretly by a news reporter. But I bet someone as attractive as she was wouldn't be overlooked by anyone else in the area. She had to have been a mini-celebrity in her own right."

"I bet you're right," Ray stared at the gorgeous woman in near awe. "she must've been somebody important. An actress, a singer or a-"

"Dancer." Winston replied firmly. "I found her!"

Ray looked over Winston's shoulder to check out the display, while Peter casually stood up from his chair and strolled over to take a look as well. "You found her? What's her story?"

"According to this," Winston began the summary calmly. "the woman's name was Olivia Hale. She was an accomplished dancer, singer and took part in several Broadway plays back in the day. Ms. Hale," Winston continued. "had grown up poor on the streets of Chicago and honed in on her natural talents to make ends meet. She moved out here to New York, moving into a hotel room to live after finishing school and found some moderate success before the Great Depression devastated everything she had ever worked for. She had apparently made a deal with several criminals in exchange for money, but it looks like 'The Apprentice' chose to treat her more like a friend than a tool. What a guy."

"Ah yes," Peter dryly interjected. "true love. Finding that one person you just can't bring yourself to take advantage of."

Ray shook his head as he absentmindedly toyed with his bandaged hand. "Well, now we know who she is and where she came from, but what happened to her the night 'The Apprentice' was gunned down?"

"Apparently... Nothing!" Winston sounded rather disappointed. "All records of her end on that night! It's like she and 'The Apprentice' just... disappeared."

"Or ran away from home." Peter suggested casually.

"Maybe they eloped?" Ray offered his own opinion on the matter. "They could've skipped town, got married, changed their names... You know, vanished after the gang turned against them. They'd have to find a place to hide! Like some kind of witness protection or something."

Peter put a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Hey wait, Winston, you said our oh-so-lovely mystery woman lived in a hotel?"

"Yeah, that's what the article said." Winston confirmed. "She lived in the top floor corner penthouse of the old 'Baltic Hotel' over in Queens. The Baltic used to be the most luxurious hotel in the entire city before the Sedgewick and others like it were built." During his explanation he had scrolled back to an article revolving around the hotel and its sad past. "Just like our mystery woman the hotel fell on hard times during the Great Depression and shut down in 1938. It's been abandoned ever since."

"Gentlemen," Peter confidently put his hands on Ray and Winston's shoulders firmly as a moment of triumph was at hand. "we have our destination."

Ray's eyes widened with fear for the safety of their missing friend. "If you're right and Egon has been held captive in an abandoned building for so long..." He trailed off and looked down at his bandaged hand, ignoring the pain that had flared up ever since he began working. "Let's just hope we're not too late!"

...to be continued...