New Business

I didn't answer Mordecai's question, instead tightening my grip on the pistol and getting ready for whatever trick this might be. Sure, we had worked together behind the scenes months ago, but to my knowledge Mordecai had betrayed everyone he had worked with in the past. Why would he be different now? As we stood there, seven paces apart, Heller grew annoyed at the standoff.

"Is the gun really necessary?" He asked.

"You're a dangerous man, Mr. Heller. If you're here for the Ghost of Charlevaux then you better have a good reason."

A hand then gently placed itself over the top of my barrel. Having gotten over the initial shock, Mitzi stood next to me and tried to ease the tension. "Put the gun away, Ethan. He's not here to harm us."

"How do you know?"

"Hon, if he intended on icing us then he would have already did so. Now please, before anyone does get hurt."

"…fine." I lowered my gun but kept my eyes locked on Heller.

"Thank you. Now perhaps we can discuss things like civilized gentlemen. Perhaps alone?"

"No, not alone." I insisted.

"This hardly concerns your… friends. You, Mitzi, and I have business to discuss."

I stood firm though. "No. Rocky, Freckle, and Ivy are part of the Lackadaisy crew. Any business you have concerning me also concerns them."

Ears flattening in annoyance, Heller gave in. "If you insist."

Turning around, I leaned in close and gave Bella a peck on the cheek. "Why don't you take Alena and Riley with you to a booth. This shouldn't take long."

"So we aren't going home?" Riley asked, frustrated that she had to stay up so late.

"Sorry Riley, but this shouldn't take too long. Boys, Ivy, let's hear what Mr. Heller has to say."

Freckle raised his hand to get my attention. "But I don't want to keep—"

"I know, Freckle. You don't owe Heller anything, but you should know what's happening even if you don't want to be part of it."

Wick, Zib, and the band were now paying attention. I could hear Sy and the others whispering from the stage. Their voices all carried fear. Wick was more stoic in his mannerisms but still caught my arm as I passed him. "Ethan, why is Mordecai Heller down here?"

"I don't know but stay with the ladies and my sister. If anything goes sideways, get them out through the freight elevator."

Wick nodded while grabbing his cane and top hat. Taking our seats at a large table just off the bar, Mitzi waited for everyone to get settled before asking the big question. "Something big must be happening to get you to come down here, Mordecai. What business do you have with my crew?"

"As Ethan can attest to, after the incident in the gravel pit, I boarded a train bound for Chicago. Ethan's information on Drago was most helpful."

"You mean?" Mitzi asked, hopeful that Atlas' killer had been taken care of.

Mordecai shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mitzi, but Drago didn't pull the trigger. Still, his interrogation yielded a lot of information. Atlas' murder runs deeper than I ever suspected."

Though I didn't have any connection to Atlas, the identity of his killer had come to mind now and then. Mitzi brought him up more often than I was comfortable with so it was a frequent thought. "I don't want to be rude, Mr. Heller, but it's well past my sister's bedtime and mine and pretty much everyone else here. So do you know who his killer is or not?"

Mordecai glared at me for a second, but I held my ground. "I suppose it is late. No, I don't have the identity of the killer worked out. Drago only knew him by an alias. But I did get a name of the one who ordered his assassination."

"Who?" Mitzi asked, longing for an answer to a question that had troubled her for so long.

"Tony. Apparently, it was the mafia that wanted Atlas gone."

"Tony?!" Rocky exclaimed before erupting in laughter. The dots connected for me as well and I soon joined him.

Mordecai gritted his teeth while Mitzi glared at us both. "I fail to see what is so humorous about this development."

I tried to catch my breath to explain, but Rocky beat me to it. "His name is 'Tony'? An Italian mobster named 'Tony'? Well that narrows it down, doesn't it?"

Mitzi was about to scold the both of us. "That's… a good point." She then turned back to Mordecai. "The suspect list would have to be a mile long for someone named 'Tony'."

Mordecai thought about it for a moment before continuing. "That is a problem, isn't it. I hadn't considered how common of a name that is for Italians."

"If you had Drago at your mercy, why didn't you get more information out of him?" I asked.

"There were… complications." Mordecai then revealed a scar that was dangerously close to his neck. "He had to be neutralized before he could gain the upper hand."

Finally able to speak, I raised my hand to pause the conversation. "Okay, so you found out some Italian guy named Tony ordered Atlas' murder. Now, I am sorry Miss M, but unless your old associate has brought in anything concrete or substantial, I doubt any of us will be of use in tracking this mystery killer down. Come on guys, let's go home."

"That's only one of the reasons I came here. The other involves you, Mr. Kelly!" Mordecai said, voice raising in intensity. Sensing that perhaps his seriousness might be justified for once, I sat back down. "Okay, and what's the other thing?"

"After I got off the train in Chicago, I decided to offer my services to a powerful boss in the city. I reasoned that if Al Capone's gang were backing Marigold that I would be safer to join his main rival, Joe Aiello. While you've been busy this summer tying up loose ends, I have been working to build a relationship between certain St. Louis operations and Aiello's family."

Now I was interested. "So you want us to join? You know we're not exactly a big-time operation."

"That's right, and the same is true for most operations in the city. If the Green Ones can take out their main competition in town, then it will only be a matter of time until the small outfits are eliminated."

"And you think we can help?" Ivy asked with confusion.

"No. I do not require the services of… children. Nor do I require help from a musician that regularly lights himself on fire. But the Ghost of Charlevaux would have utility."

"So you just want me then?"

"Yes."

"I don't know Heller…"

"This is going to be an alliance of smaller gangs. With enough competent people we could run the Green Ones out of town."

I looked around the table and noted everyone's faces. Mitzi was split on the opportunity. Joining an alliance was what Hogan had recommended but at the same time anything I did would draw unwanted attention to us. If the Green Ones figured out that "children" were the backbone of our operation then they'd likely strike Lackadaisy first since it would be the easiest target. There was also the issue of Freckle wanting to leave this life behind all together.

"Sorry to waste your time, Heller, but my place is here. These children need me here. This crew is a package deal. The last time I left this place unguarded your former associates ransacked the speakeasy and nearly had us all eliminated."

"And if you recall, everyone made it out thanks to our plan." Mordecai retorted.

Rocky, for his part, wasn't about to let Mordecai gloss over Viktor's death. "Is that so? I'm sure Viktor's daughter over there would be charmed to hear the details of her dear father's demise."

"Daughter?" Mordecai asked before looking across the room at Wick and the ladies sitting near the exit. His eyes widened when he recognized Alena's facial features. She was younger and far more beautiful, but unmistakably related to Viktor.

"Viktor never told me."

I stood up and faced Mordecai eye to eye. "He didn't tell you because he didn't trust you enough. Not to mention you two worked with each other for years. Did you ever ask?"

"It hadn't crossed my mind…"

"Ethan, I only knew about Alena through Atlas. Viktor never told anyone." Mitzi interjected.

"Ah, but he did tell someone, Miss M. He told me! He told Ivy too." I said, momentarily making eye contact with Ivy. "He asked me with his final breath to find her, and I'm sure if he had another five seconds of life, he would have asked me to protect her too."

The table was quiet as I waited for a response, yet Mordecai said nothing. "I mean no offense, Mordecai, but I don't trust you. Did Santino himself want me or was this your idea?"

After a momentary pause, Mordecai sighed. "Santino wants allies, but coming to you was my idea."

"You can let Santino know that Edward Hogan sends his regards. If he were interested in protecting my crew in exchange for my services, then I'd consider it. But I'm not leaving my people exposed, not again."

"Disappointing…" Mordecai finally gave up. "I'll see myself out. The offer still stands if your change your mind."

"Don't keep the light on." I quipped. Mordecai paused on the way out. "Alena, is it?"

"Yes? Who are you."

"I… worked with your father. We had our differences, but he was a good man."

"Thank yo-"

"He would not want you to be here. I suggest honoring that wish." A cane between the two interrupted Heller as he took a step forward. His eyes moved from Alena to Wick. "Mr. Sable…"

"…Mordecai." Wick tipped his hat. "You were here for Ethan, not the ladies."

Mordecai continued on his way and slipped out the door, letting it shut without scarcely a sound.

"Ethan, you're shaking, hon." Mitzi noted.

"It's… been a long night. Let's go home." I said, brushing off the adrenaline. My mind relapsed back to a memory of when an especially skilled German soldier had us cornered in a trench. But in hindsight Mitzi was right. Someone of Mordecai's skill would have killed us all before we could react.

"I think that's a good idea, Ethan." Wick said as he stood up and offered a hand to Alena.

"I've never seen anyone with the guts, or lack of sense, to get in Mordecai's way like that." Mitzi said as she walked over to Wick with the last drink of the night.

"Gentlemen conduct themselves with honor, Miss M. That and I do believe this coffin varnish is called liquid courage for a reason."

As figures filtered out of the speakeasy, a Leica camera burned through a roll of film. Behind the lens a cat in his early thirties snapped away while a rookie deputy wrote down notes. One cat caught the camera man's attention and he was sure to get a clean image of his main target.

"I thought this place shut down. At least that's what the sergeant said."

"Apparently it's back in operation, and Mordecai Heller himself has graced it with his presence." Ulysses replied. "Three days we've been following blood trails; I should have known this guy was involved."

"Should we nab him?" Jim asked.

"No. The department is compromised, we don't know who Heller is working for and who is on his boss' payroll. Arrest him now and we lose the element of surprise. But this is still an opportunity for us. If the Lackadaisy is alive and well, it could be an easy way to get a man on the inside. At least it would be easier than infiltrating one of the Sicilian factions."

"Well I don't know about you, Ulysses, but I'm only on the clock until 3 a.m. So if you have what you needed—"

"Yes, we'll get going. Just don't start the car until those people are gone. It's critical that we stay hidden."

Just then one more group caught Ulysses' attention. Six adults and one child. The last one stopped and looked up at the street light, illuminating his face perfectly. Using the last shot on the roll, the agent captured the likeness of a grey tabby with a notch in one ear and a violin in hand.

Where do we go from here?

The mid-morning sun poured in through the window and right onto my face. I would have been content to lay there with Isabella curled up beside me, but a rather lively discussion from downstairs found its way up the stairs and down the hall. Rocky and Freckle were more like brothers than cousins, and sometimes that meant settling an argument. Growling in annoyance, I resigned myself to meeting the day. Sliding my arm out from under Isabella's head, I found a clean shirt and pants before going downstairs. Whatever this was had better be good because it had been a while since I had the chance to spend a night with my Bella.

"What we're doing is dangerous Rocky! Criminal! How long until one of us gets killed?!"

"We won't be much of a crew without one of our main guns, Freckle! What we have works, cousin. Ethan gives us a perimeter, Ivy drives the car, I secure our bounty, and all you have to do is look threatening. You're good at that when you put your mind to it!"

"I do a lot more than that, Rocky, and you know it!" Freckle was getting angry now. "I've dug graves for you, I've killed people for you. I even walked away from my Mother for you!" Now there were tears forming in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how much I miss her?"

Rocky looked at him from head to toe and back. "Yes, I do know."

"What's with all the racket, boys?" I asked while half-stumbling down the stairs. "We got two ladies upstairs trying to sleep."

"He's right, Rocky. Can we please not yell? I just wanted to talk."

"That's more like it, let's take this out to the barn, shall we?" I suggested, putting on shoes.

The sun was now shining through the open door in the back of the barn. We lacked animals or livestock but at least the structure was up. For now it doubled as the garage… and apparently a conference room. Sitting down in the back of the farm truck, I propped myself up against the wood side while Freckle found a comfortable spot in a pile of straw. Rocky contented himself with hanging from the wooden frame of the livestock stalls.

"Okay Freckle, I said I'd listen and for once we're not going to be interrupted."

"I-I just want to get a regular job. Something where I do have to commit so much crime."

"And lose out on the excitement and adventure?!" Rocky interjected.

"Yes! God, yes! How is it that you aren't scared of what could happen to us?"

Rocky didn't even hesitate. "Of course I am, but what good does it do to worry about something as inevitable as death? The life we live now is—"

"—terrible." Freckle interrupted. "We can't keep this up forever, Rocky. Plenty of people want us dead as it is."

I had to agree with Freckle on that point. We weren't short on potential enemies. "Even so, Freckle, we are safe out here."

"Until we aren't. What if someone figures out who you are? Figures out Lackadaisy is still running? We wouldn't last a week with dozens of people trying to kill us. I'm worried about what will happen to us when this place is no longer safe, especially now that we're dealing with the mob."

"Hey, we aren't dealing with the mob, Freckle. One guy ruffed you up, I made sure he could never do that again, and now Palazzola is dead at the hands of the Russos. Sure, Hogan suggested we team up with Santino, but now isn't a good time to do that. Not unless I can ensure everyone's protection. So I'm staying out of it, and so is everyone else at Lackadaisy. Things are running fine, so there's no reason to upset the apple cart."

"Yeah, Freckle. All we have to do is keep that liquid gold flowing and stay low."

"Or we get out of the business. Find better work."

"Better work is tough to find, Freckle." I explained. "When I first came to St. Louis that's exactly what I was looking for. Even in the short time I've been here recent developments aren't looking so optimistic for guys like us."

"But shouldn't we try?"

"There's also the issue of Miss M." Rocky added. "I can't just leave her; she gave me a chance to be somebody!"

"She would understand, Rocky. It's not like you couldn't keep playing the violin there."

"Okay, let's not start going in circles guys. Freckle, I understand. If you can find new work, I wholeheartedly support you getting a real job. In the meantime there is plenty to do on the farm before winter sets in. I would feel better having someone here to watch the place. It would let the rest of us do our work during safer hours when even the other gangsters have gone to bed."

Rocky wasn't satisfied though, and his own fears were starting to show through. "But—"

"Rocky, we can't just force Freckle to keep doing a job he doesn't want to do. We've got enough people to keep the liquor coming so perhaps this is the right time to exit the business."

"Well, I for one was not expecting to be disappointed this early on such a fine Saturday, but if that's what you want, cousin..."

"Look at it this way, Rocky. We always need someone guarding the home front. And Freckle, we can still work out a way for you to get a cut of the profits. Keeping the cars running is perfectly safe work, but without Viktor this crew has been hard up for a mechanic."

"I'm glad you at least understand, Ethan. I was worried I'd have to leave here,"

"Nonsense, Freckle! You've done more than anyone could be asked to do and I'm glad you're here. Now, shall we get a late breakfast going?"

"I believe the word is "brunch", Ethan." Rocky said as he landed on the ground. Of course, two steps later he managed to trip over himself and land face first in the dirt.

"Brunch, huh? Never heard of it."

"Oh it's wonderful, Ethan. It means pancakes for lunch!" He said, picking himself up.

"I see. Hmm, sounds British. Well, brunch it is then. I hope we got enough plates for five."

"Six." Freckle said while admiring the clouds cruising above us.

"Six?" I asked, confused.

"Ivy is here too."

"She is? But where'd she—"

"I slept on the couch!" Rocky said as he caught up.

"Oh. I guess I was too tired to notice. Well, I guess I can't call you a kid anymore." I teased him while slapping Freckle on the back and giving him a wink.

"What do you mean? No, oh no, we haven't done that."

"Yet. You haven't done that yet, cousin." Rocky said with a smile on his face, speeding toward the front door and the kitchen behind it.

"Well, that went better than I expected." Freckle said to himself, but I still heard him.

"I guess if you ever needed proof that Rocky loves you, that right there is all you need."

"If I had tried to leave five months ago, he would have had a breakdown."

"Maybe all our reassurances are starting to have an effect. I'll keep an eye on him though, you just worry about building the life you want, okay?"

"Yeah. I don't say enough how it's been good to have you with us, Ethan. Rocky could have driven us all off a cliff by now."

"Well, the feeling is mutual, Freckle. There are few people I'd trust more to keep Riley safe when I'm not around."

Cajuns on the Run.

Life was quiet in the country store. Just outside a small collection of residences known as "River Aux Vases", the little store didn't have many customers. The shopkeeper kept himself busy with the daily repairs that were required for this worn-out building. While dusting shelves, a fast Ford pulled up to the single gas pump outside. The bell rang as the shop door swung open. In walked a strapping young cat with a red bandana around his neck and a green vest holding back all his white and grey chest fur.

"Afternoon. How many gallons?"

"Oh, 'bout eight or nine." He said, looking around the shop. "Nice little place ya got here."

"This old shack? Ha, hardly. The thing is halfway falling apart. Anyway, eight gallons will be two dollars."

"Of course, sir." He said in a deep baritone while the shopkeeper flipped the switch on for the pump. Outside a young woman with a peculiar outfit started pumping gas into the car. "And who's the young lady outside?"

"That's jus my sister." The cat said in response. "Say, you got cigarettes?"

"Right over there, sir. You must have come up from the South. Been down to New Orleans when I was a young lad like yourself, I never forgot the accent."

"Well, we hail from there, but we's been bummin' around these parts all summer. Tryin' to find work where we can."

"Yes, well… that can be difficult out here in the sticks." The shopkeeper felt a little uneasy. Something wasn't right, but nothing obvious. Looking past the man, he could see his sister assembling something in the backseat. Squinting his eyes, he realized that what she was wearing around her neck was jewelry made from… bones. He and her locked eyes through the glass and he realized in that instant who they were.

Sensing this, Nico laughed while pulling out his revolver. "I think the gas is on the house, and these cigarettes."

"Now just wait a min—" But the revolver's barrel was shoved right between the man's eyes. Nico narrowed his and growled. "I've killed for less, now fill the bag."

Doing as he was told, the shopkeeper emptied out the till. It was full of his week's earnings. Cigarettes, money and some medical supplies all found their way into the burlap sack. Mercifully, the cat backed off with his gun. "Thank you kindly, monsieur." Ducking out the front door, the cat slid across the hood and quickly got in the still idling car. The shopkeeper held his chest, his mind still catching up to the fact that he had just been robbed. Thinking the danger had passed, he turned around to call the police on the telephone. But just as he picked up the earpiece a flash of metal caught his eye. Pointing out the back of the sedan was the cut-down barrel of a machine gun. The store clerk jumped out of the way as thirty caliber bullets shattered the front windows and wreaked havoc on the store's interior.

Laughing manically, Serafine dumped her magazine into the store as Nico threw his car into gear. Riding on adrenaline, the two sped off down the road. Nico shifted into the Ford's highest gear as Sera slid down into the front seat. "Get anything good, brother?" She asked while digging around for a cigarette.

"Oh, enough to get us by. Shouldn't be wasting out ammo though."

"Oh come now, Nico, I's just havin' some fun! Besides, we can always rob another farm, maybe Maitre will send us another police after us, they always got some good hardware."

An hour later and the pair had made enough tracks to lose even the best tracker. Taking a narrow two-track down to an isolated pond up in the hills, the Savoys parked their car in a hidden cove well away from anyone who would be looking for them. However, as they walked toward their camp, they saw another car parked just a little way down the trail. "What the?" Nico question. "Looks like we got company."

Sera loaded up the BAR again and checked her revolver. They might be living off the land, and the people, but they were still well equipped to deal with intruders. Sneaking around the car, each sibling took one side and checked it over for any indication of who the owner might be. All they found was a Missouri license plate.

Continuing silently and with extreme caution, they soon picked up the smell of campfire smoke. Someone was daring to use up their hard-won supplies! Now angry, Nico pushed onward until he was a few feet from the canvas tent. He could hear someone tending to the fire but the large wall of canvas kept the intruder hidden. Motioning for Sera to take the flank, Nico snuck up to the tent and then quickly went around it. The sights of his revolver rested right on the head of a well-dressed man barely older than him who was sitting on Nico's stump he used as a chair. Cigar hanging from his lip, the cat didn't even bother to make eye contact or react to having a gun pointed at him.

"The hell is this?" Nico demanded. Finally the stranger acknowledged him.

"This place is well hidden, good place to lay low in between robbing what I gathered from the local paper is a few rural stores too far out for police to respond. That's smart, I'll give you that Nicodeme."

"How do you know my name? I don't know you."

"Oh, you're reputation and that of your sister precedes you. Truly, I'm a big fan. By the way, you may as well tell her to show herself."

Sera then emerged from behind a tree, gun pointed in the general direction of the bold cat. She didn't want to hit her brother though, so Sera was careful not to get the barrel too close. "You got a lot of nerve." Sera growled.

"Oh relax you two. If I wanted you dead then my boys would have made short work of you by now." The cat then whistled. Three or four men emerged from the trees, surrounding camp. The cat smiled and gestured to the area around them. "See? Now, how about we all put the guns away and talk, criminal to criminal.

"Who are you?" Sera asked as she lowered her weapon.

"My name is Frank Russo, but the boys call me "Weatherbird". Last month my brother, Tony, was killed in Chicago. I've been sent out here to find a couple of Louisianans who I'm told are fearless."

"And who told you we're who you're looking for?"

"Oh, a few members of your former cult. I'm afraid they've dispersed in your absence, but a handful have found their way into the Russo gang."

"So you're from Saint Louis. We don't go back there." Nico explained.

"Ah yes, I believe you suffered a defeat in that old Sable quarry back in June. Well, things have changed. The Green Ones and the Russos are at war with each other. There's an opportunity here for you two to climb the ranks. Maybe even the chance to become the king and queen of your own operations. But the Green Ones need to be eliminated first. Now surely one defeat wouldn't dissuade you two from such a future?"

"It's not the defeat, it's who defeated us, cher." Sera clarified. "We ran into a ghost."

The cat was hardly moved by the explanation. "I've also been told you know who this ghost is."

"You ever hear of Maitre Carrefour?" Sera asked.

"No. Is that the ghost everyone in St. Louis is so afraid of?"

"The lord of the crossroads is a spirit, cher. The ghost who beat us had a more powerful loa behind him. Ogun is the spirit of iron and war." Sera explained. Nico only nodded his head to confirm that his sister spoke truthfully.

"Perhaps we could use a bit of that cajun religion. Whoever this ghost is, he wasn't aligned with Capone otherwise you would have been allies. My gang is beholden to Joe Aiello, Capone's rival. Your ghost would have no reason to come after you if you pledged yourself to my outfit."

"Doesn't mean we're comin' back." Nico said.

"Well, that is disappointing. I guess I'll have to tell Mordecai Heller this trip was a bust…" Frank lied in a last-ditch attempt to convince them.

"Heller? You workin' with that turncoat?"

"Mr. Heller is back in town on behalf of Joe Aiello. And if this ghost joins our ranks, we will have another powerful ally. What we're short of is muscle and firepower. You two have both and we'll pay you handsomely for your services. There's plenty of opportunity in St. Louis, you need only to seize it."

The siblings were staring to waiver in their stance. Always opportunists, the pair could hardly resist riches and a fun time. Still, Frank could tell there was a real fear of this ghost they had fought before. He had one card left to play.

"You know, you'd be living better with us than when you were with Marigold. We accept all kinds of people into our ranks and we're happy to provide quarters that are… better suited to individuals from a variety of backgrounds. It sure beats living out of this tent."

"We need to think about this." Sera said.

"Of course you do! I'm not trying to get you back there against your will! Me and my boys will be waiting in the car. You should know we're on a tight schedule though, so I suggest making a decision quickly.

As the Russo members broke off from the camp and trekked back to the car, Nico looked at Sera. A smile spread across both their faces.

"The shadow and the ghost working together. Now this we gotta see." Nico said.

"If they don't kill us first." Sera replied. "But at least it'll be fun."