The Chicago Outfit

The September sun shone brightly over Chicago as the glass towers glistened along the water front. Down below, in the concrete canyons, felines of all types went about their business. If St. Louis was the gateway to the West, Chicago was the capital of the Midwest. Asa Sweet paid close and careful attention as the boss of his boss summarized the failures of that summer.

"Ten of my associates dead, including the best detective in the Outfit, and you have nothing to show for it. No body, no trail, nothing. Nothing after three months!" Antonio spat at Asa Sweet. "Do you know how many wives and mothers have been hounding me this summer? Their fathers, sons, and brothers all want to come down here to St. Louis and tear the city apart looking for your ghost. So, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Asa wasn't leisurely smoking like usual. In fact, he was as professional as he could possibly be. One wrong word, one wrong move, and he'd likely be thrown out the window of the 12th floor office onto the Chicago street below. He had been called up to the Outfit for a meeting with his bosses. Taking a deep breath, he approached these criticisms calmly. "Mr. Lombardo, I too have lost good men. Eleven, if you count Mordecai Heller-"

"Yes, and let's not forget about your Heller problem. Do you honestly think it is a coincidence that Mordecai vanished the night this all went down?"

"He was likely killed along with everyone else. No one who may have survived the massacre in the Sable quarry ever reported to me again, I can assure you of that, sir."

"Well, regardless of the details, we at the Outfit can't help but question what use the Marigolds are to us if you are undermanned…"

Two of Lombardo's associates stepped forward, but Tony held them at bay. "…however, we all know that Moreau was obsessive. That kind of stuff gets you killed in our business. He was the one calling the shots and it clearly backfired on him. Your business skills are still useful to the Outfit as well. Capone is pleased with the money you've been bringing in, so we've had a discussion…"

Lombardo then motioned for a cat to join the meeting. Dressed in a plain grey suit, his expression was neutral, yet the eyes were calculating the world around him. The tall cat pulled the cigarette from his mouth and deposited the ashes in the tray on the table before taking a seat between the two cats. Lombardo waited until his guest was seated before continuing. "…Asa, we've decided that your best use for our organization will be to continue managing the Marigold Room. Do what you are good at and keep the money rolling in. Bringing Saint Louis to heel will fall to a fellow Italian. This is Alphonse Palazzolo, head of "The Green Ones" and the only man left in St. Louis with the resources to control the city's liquor trade."

Al tipped his hat at Asa. "Mr. Sweet." The cat greeted.

"Al…" Asa acknowledged. This was unwelcome news, but at the moment if he squealed about the deal, he made with Ethan there would be hell to pay.

Lomabardo seemed pleased that the two knew each other. "Ah, so you two are affiliated. Good. Palazzolo has been taking care of some business in town and is ready to get back to work in St. Louis."

Al couldn't help but fill in the details to his colleague. "A couple of my partners thought it would be a good idea to split and form their own operation. Tony Russo and Vincent Spicuzza dug their own graves trying to go after Capone. Now we just need to deal with the leftovers in town, including some rogue associates of Hogan's and Egan's old gangs."

"You'll have to be careful of the leftovers, Al. In St. Louis they have a way of… persisting. I can speak with experience on that."

Al lit up a cigarette for himself before putting his lighter away. "It's a tough business, Asa. Back in the early days all a man had to do to keep himself in business was bribe a cop or two and keep clear of everyone else. Those days are gone now, and we've got the submachine gun to thank for it. Luckily for you, we're all on the same side. My boys will keep the streets safe for Marigold to operate, and in turn we all get a little richer."

"Of course…" Lombardo added. "We've still got the problem of this ghost Moreau kept bringing up. If St. Louis is going to be brought into the fold, that one especially must be eliminated."

Al smiled as he pulled the cigarette from his lips. "Not to work, sir. I've already got a man on it. I've got some business to settle here in Chicago, but I'll be in St. Louis by Friday morning."

Three hours later Asa was looking out the window of the lounge car on a southbound train. His body yearned for nicotine and Asa happily lit up a cigar. Ethan Kelly had crippled his operation back in June, but he couldn't completely fault the kid for protecting his own. The real blame lay with Adam Moreau, but he paid for his arrogance with his life. Despite the setbacks, he did have some leverage over Ethan. All he would have to do is spill the beans about his identity and the people he is protecting. But as Ethan put it, that option was a suicide pact. If he squealed to his superiors, Ethan would kill him before any hitman could snuff him out and his demonstration in that quarry was more than enough evidence of his capabilities. This was indeed a dangerous business.

Both he and Ethan would have a common goal, to keep the events of that night and the details of their agreement a secret from those who pulled the strings for the mafia. He'd need to call Ethan as soon as he was back in his home turf.

Welcome to St. Louis

Isabella waited patiently for the others to arrive in the café on the campus. Though it was the first day of school, it was her last year and there was already so much work to be done. Reading through a textbook dutifully, she only looked up when a familiar voice called out. "Bella!" Waving in response, she put the book away to make room at the table for Ivy.

"Already hitting the books?" Ivy asked as she sat down, water in hand.

"Being stuck in the city is killing me, Ivy. I'd rather be teaching kids out where Ethan lives. The district is still looking for instructors."

"Speaking of, have you seen the house lately? Calvin and Ethan have been a well-oiled machine building up the farmstead."

"I can't say I've had a lot of time. When I last saw it, the house was still being framed."

"Well, it's got pinewood floors, plaster walls, new electrics, and three bedrooms. Freckle gave me a tour last week."

"Damn… I guess Ethan's been busy too."

"Yeah, well he's excited to get you moved in there. He doesn't admit it openly, but I can tell."

Isabella could hardly believe it had been three months since she and Ethan had their first proper date. While he didn't tell her that night, Ethan did come clean about his involvement in the speakeasy several days after. He had also confessed to her what his past was really like. It was a shocking as it was sad to know what he went through before coming to St. Louis. And yet, despite Ethan's fears there was a strength there that she could sense. He proved himself to be fiercely loyal to his friends as well, even giving Calvin and Rocky a place to live.

But their schedules didn't overlap very often, and that put a strain on both of them. Ethan had a farm to build, a speakeasy to protect, and a family to care for. Isabella had her classes, tutoring, and her teacher training to attend.

"Hello? Did you zone out again?" Ivy asked, waving a hand in front of her friend's face.

"Oh? Sorry. I was thinking about Ethan."

Ivy squealed with joy at this. "Ethan does the same thing about you!" She exclaimed. "All my friends are falling in love! Now we just need to find Rocky someone."

Isabella almost spit out her coffee. "Rocky?! Now there's a challenge."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I like a challenge. Everyone deserves someone. Also he gets in the way of Freckle and me a lot, the poor guy is clearly in need of some company."

"So considerate…" Isabella said sarcastically. "I know the boys are close, but Ethan always makes sure that Rocky has something to occupy himself with. Maybe instead of roping some poor girl into a date with a bootlegger you and Freckle could talk to him?"

"The problem is Rocky looks up to Ethan. You can see it in his eyes. But Calvin is his baby cousin. The same tactics just won't work."

"All I'm saying is don't get someone else wrapped up in this problem needlessly. Trust me, it's a small problem anyway. Now, I believe we were meeting the newest member of our little crew?"

"That's right, what time is it anyway!?" Ivy exclaimed.

"Almost 11 o'clock" Isabella replied, looking at the clock in the kitchen. "She should be here any minute—"

"And she's walking through the door right now." Ivy said as she pulled a third chair from a nearby table.

Isabella looked up just in time to see the young freshman walk through the door. Her brilliant autumn-red hair was trimmed in a modern style while every hair on her had been carefully brushed into place. In her arms was the heavy load of books every new student had to study from for general classes.

Isabella also saw the wheels turning in Ivy's head and wanted to put a stop to it before—

"Hi Alena!" Ivy greeted the new student. "I was just thinking—"

"Ivy, no. Bad idea, drop it." Isabella warned, but her advice fell on deaf ears.

"Think about what?" Alena asked as she sat down. Isabella just shook her head as Ivy continued undaunted. "Now that you're in college, we decided to help you get a date and so—"

"Do not include me in this, Ivy Pepper!" Isabella demanded. "And Alena, dear, you certainly don't need to go on a date if you don't want to. Especially for some hairbrained—"

"A date?" Alena asked, confused. "But I just got to St. Louis." Isabella sensed something to grasp onto. "Yes, exactly! See, Ivy? She just got into town. Don't make her endure Rocky for a whole evening!"

"Hey, you don't know Rocky like I do. Trust me, there's more to him than you imagine."

"The inner machinations of that cat's mind are not something I dwell on." Isabella huffed. "So, putting a pin in crazy ideas for the moment, how are you getting on, Alena?"

"This city is wonderful!" She exclaimed. "Mother told me she didn't want me in St. Louis, but I am so happy to be getting to know more about my father. I just wish he was still here."

Isabella didn't know Viktor very well. She had heard many things about him. How tough and strong he was, but also how dedicated and caring he was. Ethan had shown her a picture once, and the resemblance was uncanny. There was no question that Alena was Viktor's daughter. Ivy had taken Alena under her wing, but this time she was taking the big sister role a little too far. Isabella would have to let Ethan know about Ivy's plan so that he could put a stop to it before any feelings were hurt.

Meanwhile, Ivy looked at the clock on the wall and recalled that she had a lunch date between classes. "I will work out the details later, but for right now I've got a lunch date with Calvin, and he should be arriving in three… two… one…" Ivy pointed at the glass window as a blur or orange fur rushed toward the door and in came Freckle, out of breath from running.

"See you, ladies!"

"Alright, goodbye Ivy. Tell Ethan I'll call him tonight." Isabella said as Ivy walked over toward her boyfriend.

Ivy wrapped herself around Calvin. "Aw, you poor thing. Running all this way just for me?"

Calvin tried to speak between breaths. "Couldn't… wait…" He said, smile on his face.

"Well don't you worry about having to exert yourself anymore. It's only 15 minutes by streetcar."

"Where… is it?" Freckle asked as he was led out of the café by the hand.

"Oh, just a little Italian deli in 'The Hill'…"

Gioia's Deli

Sitting right off Daggett Avenue was the small restaurant known as "Gioia's". Ivy had wanted to visit there forever as the area was one of the few places in St. Louis she hadn't explored. Her father never took her to St. Louis' version of "little Italy" but never mentioned why. Freckle, for his part, was just happy to be going somewhere with a wide selection of Sandwiches.

The two were soon eating at a booth next to the window looking out at the busy street corner. It felt familiar, yet so different from the Little Daisy Café that was no more. The intersection was certainly busier though, with people milling about in the street, shopping at various small booths in the park across from the café. Decorations were already out for the Feast of San Gennaro, but especially the red, white, and green Italian flags that seemed to be draped from every window.

"Isn't it nice to have a date in such a romantic place?" Ivy asked.

"Mmhmm" Calvin hummed as he swallowed a piece of his sandwich. "And good food too."

Freckle looked out in the street and immediately spotted a young boy that looked a bit like himself pointing at some toys and games in a booth. His mother, though hesitant, picked up the lad and brought him closer to see the wooden toys. Their shared embrace made his mind wander back to his mother.

"Something wrong?" Ivy asked.

"Oh… no. It was just… I wish my mother would reply to my letters."

"Poor boy." Ivy said as she leaned across the table and pecked him on the cheek. "Has she still not replied?"

"No. It's like I don't exist…" He mumbled. "When I decided to come with Ethan that night, I didn't think she would be so mad that she would ignore me for three months."

"Well, I for one am glad you decided to rescue us… for obvious reasons." Ivy replied. "But maybe we should go see her?"

Freckle thought about how that might go before quickly deciding that facing his mother's wrath wasn't something he wanted to experience. "No. I don't think I can do that. Is there a bathroom here? I need a minute."

"Of course, Calvin." She said, holding his hand before he left. "Just don't forget we're all here for you."

Staring into the mirror above the sink, Calvin saw his reflection, but it wasn't quite him. At least, it wasn't who he used to see himself. The usual features were still there. Orange face, round ears, fluffy cheeks. But in three months he had become every bit the criminal he had once wanted to pursue and lock up. He had killed people, buried bodies, smuggled in contraband, and fought with street thus from downtown to Defiance.

Some would say that Rocky pushed him into this life, his mother being one of them, but the truth was part of him wanted to live this life. He was free for the first time, a young man finally able to start making a life of his own. His life had danger, adventure, love, and all the things that he had read about in the numerous novels still back in his old bedroom. There was no doubt that he had come a long way from being his mother's golden angel and Rocky's baby cousin. And yet, something was missing. Despite it all, even Ivy, he wasn't happy.

Back in the booth, Ivy was minding her own business when the bell jangled behind her. At first, she thought nothing of it, but oddly the deli seemed to grow quiet. A shadow loomed over her as customers looked on, communicating only in whispers. A young, baritone voice took her by surprise.

"Well hello there, Bellissima. What's your name, doll?"

Ivy looked up and her eyes met with those of a tall, handsome Italian cat that seemed to be in his early twenties. His suit was well-made, and his hair was slicked back. This was no working-class joe. Though his features caught her eye, something about him felt… off. "Uh, hi. Can I help you?"

"Can you help me?" He said, a smile on his face the whole time. "A name would certainly be helpful."

The dots connected in Ivy's mind really quickly. Though outwardly smooth, this guy had only one thing in mind and she sure wasn't going to give it up. He seemed to have come from money, though, so perhaps she could use that angle. "You know, my father isn't exactly a steel worker. I don't think you'd want to get on his bad side."

The cat cackled at the thought. "Oh, that is adorable. But unless your father is Costello, I'd say you're fair game. Now, what part of town are you in."

"J-just the university…" She replied, looking around to see if anyone would come to rescue her from this creep. But everyone else had a look of fear on their face and they were quickly back to minding their own business. "Dammit, Freckle. Where are you?" She thought.

Just then, someone tapped the cat on the shoulder. Turning around, he looked down to see a small orange fluff ball glaring at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, is this your gal?"

"Y-yes. Now please leave her alone." Freckle asked, but the guy wasn't impressed.

"Va al diavolo!" He shot back. "The Kerry Patch is about three miles back that way, paddyhat."

Freckle stood firm. He didn't have a gun, but between the police department and Ethan, he had some practice for just this kind of situation. Now the guy was getting annoyed. "Sweet Jesus, you really are dense, aren't ya. Maybe this will convince you—"

The stranger went for his gun, but no sooner had it left the holster that he found himself alleviated of it. In one smooth motion Freckle had grabbed the gun, cocked the revolver, and had it pointed right under the cat's throat. A low growl reverberated throughout the deli as his finger twitched on the trigger. "Imeacht gan teacht ort!"

Though not a pushover, one look in the cat's eyes convinced the stranger that he had better not risk it. Raising his hands, the man backed up toward the door and found his way outside. Freckle continued pointing the gun at him until he was sufficiently outside the building before closing the door and breathing a sigh of relief. He hadn't gone crazy, though his instincts almost got the better of him. Ivy immediately jumped out of her seat before hugging and kissing him. "Wow, who taught you to intimidate someone like that?"

"No one." He replied before remembering that he still had the man's gun. Turning around, Freckle also noticed that all eyes were on him now. He should feel victorious, but these people seemed less certain. Pulling out enough money to pay for the food, Freckle went up to the counter and gave the cashier both the money and the gun. In return he got a confused look from the middle-aged cashier.

"Are you certain you do not need the gun?"

"Why would I need it?" Freckle asked. "Just make sure that gets turned into the police. Someone will catch the man eventually."

"Okay but be careful. You should not mess with men like him."

"Strange." Freckle thought as the two were leaving the deli. "Say, Ivy, we better get back on the trolley and go home. Something felt… off about that guy."

"I know what you mean, he was creepy. But I think Viktor would approve of what you did there. My dad sure would."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Someone who would protect their little flower would earn their respect quickly. But I think you are right; we shouldn't be in this part of town. I don't like it so much after that."

The pair didn't get too far before Freckle noticed that they were being followed. One cat trailed behind them. Deciding to walk faster, Calvin grabbed Ivy's hand firmly and pulled her along at a quicker pace. However, he soon noticed a similarly dressed cat approaching them from ahead. Just as they got to an alley, someone reached out and pulled them both into the shadows and away from public view. It was a third cat dressed like the other two. Behind him was the stranger Calvin had just threatened. The other two goons closed in and blocked the pair from leaving.

Ivy got mad at being prevented from leaving. "Now wait just one minute! What right do you have to—" A strong hand slapped her hard across the face, knocking Ivy down.

"Ivy!" Freckle called out as he went to throw a punch at the guy who just slapped her down, but he was immediately put on the back foot with a solid left hook from one of the other goons. Now separated, Calvin found himself isolated from Ivy. The stranger walked up behind Calvin. "Not so tough without a gun now, are you?" He mocked before hitting him in the gut. A kick to the ribs sent Freckle to the ground.

Ivy tried to get up, but one of the goons held her down. "You just sit tight and let the men have it out. Better him than you." He said. Ivy found that she couldn't break free from his grasp, so she resigned herself to complying, something the stranger took note of. "Ah, now that's a good girl. Don't worry, no one is dying today…"

He then turned his attention back to Freckle. "But anyone who threatens a made man must be punished. Doesn't matter if you are part of the life or not, it is a universal rule of respect for Cosa Nostra."

Freckle tried to get to his feet, but the man was fast as lightning, knocking him down once again with several blows to his body. Heaving, Freckle relieved himself of his lunch on the ground. The stranger loomed over him. "Now then, a parting gift. And a reminder of why Irish scum like you should stay out of my neighborhood." Ivy watched as the man produced a knife and slashed down in one smooth motion.

The Ghost

Mitzi was putting away the books for the afternoon when the door to the speakeasy burst open. She looked up in horror to see that Freckle was a bloody mess and Ivy had a couple scrapes of her own. "Ethan, Zib! Get out here, quick!" She yelled as she ran around the bar to help Ivy. "Oh, Freckle, what happened dear?"

"I'll explain, Aunt May, but we need to get him patched up first." Ivy said as she shifted some of Freckle's weight onto Mitzi.

"Of course, dear. Let's get him to the lounge chairs."

Zib, asleep as usual, rose from his slumber when he heard Mitzi scream. Few things could get him to move faster than the sound of one of his friends in danger. He ran out from backstage and jumped off the platform, coming to Mitzi's side and taking over for Ivy. "Here Ivy, let me take him from here. What the hell happened?"

My ears perked up from the armory. Something must have happened, an accident perhaps. Getting up with a groan, I trotted down the wet cave hallway into the main room only to see that someone had beaten my brother savagely. "Freckle!" I exclaimed as I rushed to get the first-aid kit. As I ran back over, Mitzi extended her hand. "Give it to me, Ethan, I'll start getting him cleaned up. Zib, go get some warm water and towels. We may need to get you out to the Arbogasts to get stitched up."

Seeing that Freckle was being tended to, I turned my attention to Ivy. "Pepper, you're hurt too. Here, let me see."

"It's okay Ethan, I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that, now please, let me see."

I looked over her face. Besides a couple of bruises, there didn't seem to be any permanent damage. The fear of what had just occurred while on their date must have caught up with her because I could see tears forming in her eyes. I pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, Ivy, you're okay now."

Once things had calmed down, I sat next to Freckle to examine him. Thankfully, the wounds he sustained weren't very deep. But he had one long mark along his cheek that would leave a scar. "Okay, someone want to tell me what happened?"

Ivy started. "Well, we had gone to a deli for our lunch date and Freckle had gotten up from the table to go to the bathroom. This creep came into the shop and started talking to me."

"And he beat up Calvin?" I asked.

"Well, not quite like that, but yes."

"I showed him the door. He tried to pull a gun, but I turned it on him like you taught me. He and some of his friends got to us before we could get on the streetcar."

The door to the speakeasy opened once again, this time it was Rocky who stepped in. He took one look around and noticed his little cousin all bandaged up. "Freckle! Oh God, what happened?"

"He was just explaining." I said. "He got jumped after defending Ivy."

"Who? Who did this?" Rocky demanded.

"The cat said he was Elio Giannola." Ivy explained.

"Damn Italians. Can't help but pick on a poor young Irish lad." Rocky said. First he had been down and depressed, but now there was a fiery rage in him I also had not seen before.

"Where did this happen?" I asked.

"A block from Gioia's Deli" Freckle said.

I looked between the three of them. "Alright, I'll take care of this. Rocky, can you drive these two out to the farm and pick up Riley for me? It's about 2:30 right now and I don't want her to have to wait around all afternoon. If Freckle needs stitches, we won't be far from Defiance."

"Come on, cousin. Let's go home. You too, Ivy." Rocky said as he helped Freckle up. "Kehoe is bringing the goods up the river tonight, Ethan."

"Good. I'll take care of this, then come to get you. We'll handle the load together and let Freckle rest."

As the three left the speakeasy, I went back into the armory and loaded up. Mitzi stopped me as I passed the bar on the way out. "Ethan?"

"Yes, Miss M?"

"I can't stop you from doing this, but make sure no one figures out you are from Lackadaisy. Understood?"

"I hear you loud and clear, Miss M. This isn't speakeasy business, purely personal."

The little hole-in-the-wall behind a pool hall was the favorite lounging spot for some members of the local gang. Elio sat at a table playing cards with some of his associates while two of his guards looked onwards. He had just folded and lit up a cigarette when someone entered the room. Looking over at the stranger, he felt the room get cold. It was as if the cat had just come down on a horse. His old hat looked like that of a cowboy, or perhaps an army scout. The trench coat had a few holes in it and hung open like a canvas duster.

"I'm looking for Elio Giannola. I was told this is where he hangs out."

"Right here, friend. Care to play a round?"

The stranger stood still, glancing around the room. "My business is with Elio alone, everyone else can leave."

Patrons and the bartender immediately went for the door, making sure to not get between the two men. "So no card games then? Pity. Boys…" Elio snapped his fingers. His two bodyguards advanced toward the stranger, but as quick as lightning a pistol and long knife were unsheathed. Three bullets went into one cat while another was quickly slain with a long bayonet. Elio tried to get out of his chair and pull his own gun but a fourth shot in the gut sent him tumbling to the floor. Crawling, Elio flipped himself over to find a boot placed on his chest and a barrel pointed at his face.

"Do you have any idea who the hell you are messing with?" Elio hissed. "You kill me, it will only be the beginning for you."

I stood above him, a pistol pointed right at his forehead. "I survived the trenches; I can survive whatever little gang this is."

"Ha. You really don't know, do you? The Green Ones will come for you."

"I don't care."

Elio growled. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm the Ghost." I said, squeezing the trigger. His head splattered across the floor behind him. "And that's what happens when you hurt my family."

Walking out into the clear night sky, I got in the sedan and drove off down the dark street while the police sirens closed in. Taking a turn down an alleyway, I avoided detection by the cop cars. A couple of tight turns later and I was out on a side street a half-mile from the scene of the crime. I didn't know it yet, but I would regret that decision.