The Streets of Saint Louis

by jjw2795

September has come after an eventful summer. The Lackadaisy Crew has once again found their feet and Ethan Kelly has started a farm. However, a gang war within the Mafia threatens to upend the city even worse than a destructive tornado. The boys will need to come to terms with their past and find a way to survive the mean streets of Saint Louis.

23. Father's Day

Legacy of Death

"And then he hid in a plant from the two ladies!" Mitzi laughed as she retold the story of Lackadaisy's glory days.

"Ooh, and you remember the St. Patrick's Day of '23?!" Reuben offered up another tale. "One of the boys… oh, what was his name? He challenged Viktor of all people to see who could keep down the most liquor."

"Oh yes, Viktor wouldn't do it initially. But the fool kept prodding and prodding. I didn't know whether he was going to throttle man or outdrink him."

"Then Viktor did both!" Reuben exclaimed, cackling as he threw himself back on the couch before wiping away a tear. "I'm going to miss that man." He said while Wick and Ivy sat next to each other in silence, taking in the old stories.

"Miss M, you'll never guess what we discovered!" Rocky exclaimed as he ran inside, dirty from head to toe.

"My word, Rocky, what have you been up to?" She replied with concern.

"Oh, nothing much really. Just a bit of grave excavation and a few other victimless crimes."

Wick raised his hand and tried to protest. "The maid will be quite furious if you track mud all over the house."

"Don't worry, Mr. Sable, he's going right outside." I said, stepping in behind Rocky. "But we did find something important tonight. I talked to Hogan earlier, and based on what he told me and Rocky's brilliant idea, we found out that the guy who tried to kill us was Luke Kennedy."

"Luke Kennedy? He tried to kill you? He's been dead for years. No one has seen him here or in Kansas City, and now you're telling me that he's after you?!" Reuben yelled after almost choking on his own drink. The jubilant cat was gone and replaced by a serious and concerned father.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" I asked.

"I could ask the same, grave digger."

Mitzi stood up and got between us. "Ruby, this is Ethan Kelly. Our resident, uh… weapons expert."

"He kills people who try to hurt us." Rocky corrected while Mitzi slapped her forehead. Reuben didn't seem particularly pleased. "I gotta say, he seems like a downgrade from the last one. At least Heller knew how to have some class."

I growled. "And a pipsqueak like you ought to know when not to run his mouth."

"Ethan!" Ivy yelled.

"What? We've been working our butts off and I come back here just to get insulted by some nobody!"

"That nobody is my dad!" Ivy said. "See the resemblance?!"

I looked back and forth between them a couple of times before realizing that she was telling the truth. Mitzi looked away from us in embarrassment. "…and this is Reuben Pepper. An old friend of the family."

"I thought you were coming later in the week."

"Yeah, well when a father gets a letter from his daughter's college saying she's been out past curfew, its only proper that I catch the first train into town."

"And Reuben, you remember Rocky…"

He shifted his eyes to the grey tabby next to me. "Ah yes. The one who wore pancakes as sleeves and lit himself on fire…"

"That only happened… twice… that you know of." Rocky defended, looking away.

"Oh Rocky, I know far more than you think. I know everybody, remember?"

I shook my head. "Alright, I suppose we got off on the wrong foot."

"Nonsense, friend. I guess this is as good a time as any to address the big question here. Ivy, Mitzi, when were you two ladies going to tell me the truth?"

"The truth? What truth would that be, exactly, dad?" Ivy shifted in her seat.

"Oh come on, honey, do you really think I can't figure it out? You and Mitzi have been dropping hints all over the place. You come here to St. Louis to go to college and go dancing every other night at a gin joint. At least that's all I hope you've been doing, because it sure wasn't running the till at the café this semester. Spending my money on frivolous dresses and makeup and whatever else is one thing, but you're here to get an education and sort out the next stage of your life, and I will not have my daughter throw away her life over someone else's dead dream."

A silence filled the air, but I felt compelled to do my part in smoothing things over. Clearing my throat, I spoke up. "Sir, I can ex—"

"explain? Yes, I'm sure you could. But this is between me, Mitzi, and my daughter. I want to hear the truth from them, not you. So why don't you and Rocky get yourselves cleaned up? And Wick, if you don't mind…"

"Right, yes, of course. Come along boys, this is a family matter that doesn't involve us."

The matter may not have involved us, but we could hear bits and pieces of it throughout the house as the argument waxed and waned. At one point I checked the clock and saw that Ivy was going to miss curfew again, but shortly after Bix showed up with a car and Ivy was escorted into the vehicle with a note in hand. She didn't look up at me or Rocky as the car drove off. Soon we heard footsteps approaching from the stairs. Reuben looked tired, but still had enough fight left in him for words with us. "You two... I don't appreciate people using my family for any of their schemes."

"Schemes? What schemes?" Rocky asked.

"Don't play coy with me, boy. Now I know how you got that scar on your head. And as for you, weapons expert."

"I have a name."

"I don't care. Ivy is not some weapon Mitzi lets you use. My daughter has been shot at and nearly killed a half a dozen different ways, thanks in large part to you two. At least Rocky gets the excuse of having brain damage, but I dare you to give me an excuse. So go ahead, try and explain why involving her in any way was a good idea."

"Reuben, right? You know, if it weren't for me and Rocky, she would be dead."

He scoffed at the comment. "You know, my good friend Atlas said the same thing to me once. In fact, he said that a lot. All the more reason for me to tell you both to stay the hell away from my little girl! She's gone back to her dorm, note in hand explaining why she's late. Ivy is not your pawn. Understood?"

Rocky looked down in shame, I held my ground. Something Reuben didn't much appreciate.

"I feared Atlas, Ethan. But not you. I won't let her become part of his legacy of death! If you have any respect for me as her father, you'll leave her the hell out of this war you've gotten yourself into. Now, it's been a long day and I need a shower." And with that he moved on and closed the door down the hall. Taking a deep breath, I shook my head.

"It has been a long day."

"A long week." Rocky added.

"Well, I'll go check on my kid. You better check on yours. You think you can get them back to school tomorrow?"

"You bet. And I'll make sure our home isn't still crawling with goons from the enemy camp."

"Just stay out of trouble, okay? I don't think I could pull off a rescue like that twice."

Dead Men Walking

"What do you mean they're missing? How hard could it be to watch an empty farm?" Vito asked, pouring himself a morning whiskey. His brother and their hired gun didn't have much for an explanation.

"Something did happen to them, I'm sure of it." Luke said. John added to it. "Maybe we didn't get the ghost after all?"

"I shot him in the face. You saw the guy fall into the river, right?"

"Yes, but maybe he survived?"

"Don't be absurd. I'm sure if we went back out there or hired one of the local rivermen to search the water we'd eventually have the body."

"Perhaps, but some men are hard to kill. I'd think you of all people would know about that, right Henry?" John said between gritted teeth. Something Vito took notice of.

"Ugh, what's got into you today, John? You've been acting like this all morning around him."

"That's because I don't like working with people who lie to me. Did you know that his name is—"

"Luke Kennedy?" Vito asked.

"What? You knew!"

Vito rolled his eyes. "Of course I knew. That's why I hired him, John. But he's made a lot of enemies so his identity was part of our agreement."

"But… I get that, brother. Why keep this from me? I'm supposed to be your right-hand man."

Vito sighed and put a hand on John's shoulder. "You are my right-hand man. But this kind of knowledge is supposed to be confidential. How did you figure it out, anyway?"

"He asked me… rather forcefully. He had been suspicious for quite a while." Luke added.

"Well, look John, I'm sorry for not telling you. Tight lips keep people alive in this business, you know that. But I'm going to need you two to keep working together, understood."

"Very well." John said, leaning back. "But no more lies, from either of you!"

"Agreed, brother. Now, with or without Elias and Matt, I have a task for you."

"Oh?" Luke said, leaning forward as Vito produced a pocket map of St. Louis.

"The Russos and Santino's outfit have joined forces. According to a contact I have on the inside, they are planning to ambush and steal a truck convoy of our best liquor outside Orchard Farm later this week. It will be just like that attempted ambush from a while back. I need you two and a crew to stake out the location and make sure all that booze gets to the destination."

"Say no more, Vito. We'll get it done." John said, standing up.

"And as for the ghost, if he were to make an appearance, make sure he stays dead this time, got it? We've already wasted enough men on him."

"A half a dozen in as many minutes. Don't worry sir, I doubt anyone could walk away from a Mauser bullet in the head."

"Ambush, huh? Well, this is quite the development." Ulysses commented as he meticulously took notes on his desk with Ransom sitting across from him and Jim standing in the corner, looking over the string chart which covered the entire wall. "A lot of things are starting to fall into place." The officer commented while sipping coffee.

"Indeed. I'm quite certain that this Ethan Kelly would be a major key to bringing the criminal organizations of this city to their knees." Ulysses said while reviewing his notebook. "We just need to pin him for something, but if you can witness a couple of murders and a few other crimes we'll have enough to make sure he stays in the slammer the rest of his life… unless he cooperates."

Ransom scoffed at the idea. "Somehow, I doubt Ethan Kelly is going to cooperate."

Ulysses didn't seem to mind though. "Then he's a fool. Sooner or later he's going to get caught and if what you say is true, he hasn't been paying any of the cops off. Just another bum running liquor and killing people."

"That cat is no bum. Normal people don't get shot in the face and live to tell about it. It's almost like something is protecting him."

"I thought you said a bullet got caught in the receiver of his gun and all Ethan got was some shrapnel."

"Yes, but what are the odds of that? I'm a gambling man, Ulysses. That kind of luck isn't something I would ever count on."

Ulysses waved off the remark. "Well, it won't matter to us anyway. Ethan Kelly could be a valuable asset, but right now he's a terror on the town. Every cop and criminal are talking about this ghost. If nothing else, when we nab him and the crew, it will make national news. And we'll require your testimony, of course."

"My testimony? And arresting the whole Lackadaisy crew? That wasn't what you recruited me for, Ulysses. It wasn't part of the deal."

The agent stopped writing and looked up from his notebook. "Our deal is that you supply information so that I can catch the criminals who have taken over this town. At the time, I didn't realize the Lackadaisy was hiding such a dangerous murderer."

"But Rocky—"

"Is an accessory to murder and a host of other crimes." Ulysses then leaned back in his chair and pinched the brow of his nose. "You know, I was under the impression that you didn't care about that boy."

"I… don't. Or, I mean, I'm not supposed to. I barely know him! But he's hardly a danger to anyone. Rocky hasn't hurt a fly since I started spying on them for you."

"Then perhaps with a good lawyer and a lenient judge he'll get a light sentence. Either way, Rocky isn't my problem nor is he the big prize here. Heller is who I really need. But if you decide to spoil our little arrangement, I highly doubt the Lackadaisy gang are going to let you keep your head. So for your own sake, I suggest continuing to do your job until I say otherwise. Now, was that everything you had to share?"

Ransom gritted his teeth. "Yes…"

"Excellent work as always, Ransom. I'll arrange for a taxi to—"

"Actually, I have a personal appointment with a physician nearby. I'll walk there."

"Suit yourself. Good day, Mr. Rickaby."

After Ransom was safely out of the room, Ulysses and Jim went back to business. Jim refilled his coffee before commenting. "You know, I haven't been on the force very long, but even I know a rat when I see one."

Ulysses looked up from his desk. "What, Ransom? Of course he's a rat, he's been ratting to us on a crew that includes his own son."

"Don't you think that could be a problem? What if he does alert them to our investigation?"

"Are you saying I shouldn't have brought up Rocky Rickaby? Because sooner or later that conversation was going to happen."

"No. What I'm saying is we shouldn't let this be the reason your investigation fails. Even if they do kill Ransom, once you lose the element of surprise, they can melt right back into society without anyone being able to follow them."

"Then we throw Ransom back in the slammer. Once our newest informant starts pulling his weight, we won't need the old crook much anyway."

Jim disagreed. "I don't think that's going to help us in the long run, sir. But you wanted Ethan Kelly to help us, right?"

"Of course! He's been in the middle of this mess. We just need to hit him with enough evidence of murder that he'll comply."

"Perhaps we should pursue that route sooner rather than later? Such as after this ambush that they are planning. Catch him alone on the street, question Ethan, and maybe tell him about Ransom ourselves?"

"Shit, shit, shit!" Ransom steamed as he smoked a cigarette in the waiting room. This wasn't good, he had to tell someone about the hammer which was going to come dropping down soon. But the fed was right, if he spilled the beans then he could only imagine what Ethan or Mitzi would do to him. But there was no use in worrying about that right now, first he had to get an update on his prognosis. The medication he got was helping him function, but some days were getting harder. He just wasn't feeling right since that night he fled across the river with his son's crew.

"Ransom Rickaby? The doctor will see you now." A receptionist called from the window. The resulting appointment consisted of the usual stuff. Questions, looking at his limbs, heart rate, listening to complaints, testing, prodding, poking, the whole works. All the while the doctor remained calm and clinical, writing notes and checking his reference manual. After twenty minutes, a conclusion was reached. "Well, sir, I've got some bad news for you."

"I figured that regarding cancer there is rarely good news."

"The cancer has spread, I'm certain of it. You said you had trouble breathing when excited or after a period of activity? Coughing up blood is another symptom. The cancer has spread into your lungs. It's terminal, completely inoperable. Perhaps if you had come here months or years ago…"

"I… had other obligations. So cancer in my gut and lungs?"

"These things are poorly understood, I'm afraid. Some types of cancer we can treat. Remove infected skin, carve out a breast from a woman or a piece of muscle from a worker. Often it works, usually it doesn't. But we can't go pulling your lungs apart or your stomach, for that matter."

"I knew already that it was terminal. The first doctor gave me a few months to live, so what's your prognosis, doc?"

"In my opinion, you won't make it past February."

"And how long until I'm bed ridden?"

"Hard to say for sure, but you'll probably be able to function independently for at least a few more weeks. Sometime in January would be my estimation based on similar cases. I recommend getting your affairs in order, take care of any lingering regrets you might have."

"Well, I don't have… I guess I got a few."

"Everyone does, sir. I can also recommend some good hospice care. The Catholic Diocese here runs a good operation, and of course this hospital has a few satellite facilities."

"Thank you. I may come back for details."

"If there is anything else I can do to help you, don't hesitate to ask. For now, this is a prescription for an opiate liquid called tincture. Not very tasty, I'm afraid, but take as much or as little as you need to dull the pain. You're likely to need it in the next few weeks. Come back if you need more."

Walking out of the hospital, Ransom was distraught. Some part of his mind still believed there might be a cure outside the walls of the prison, but one of the best doctors in one of the best hospitals said there was no hope. He had consciously known that now for several weeks, but this was the first time it really sunk in. There was no way to ignore it, deny it, or put it off. In a few short weeks, or a few months if he was lucky, he was going to die and there wasn't anything he could do about it. What he really needed right now was a drink, and luckily, he knew a recently closed speakeasy with a large volume of hard liquor to make him forget the problems of his personal life for a while.

The Girl is Just Like Me

For once, Ivy was actually studying in her dorm. The previous nights' discussion was quite clear, she was not to be off campus helping Miss M or the boys with any more of their duties. Though the more she thought about it, the better an idea that seemed. Lackadaisy was closing down, Ethan was about to wage an all-out war against the Green Ones, Calvin still needed a lot of time to recover, and Rocky was going to do whatever Rocky does. A knock on the open door snapped Ivy out of her thoughts. She swung around in the desk chair and saw her father leaning against the doorframe.

"Quite the little place they got you in. I can see why you didn't want to spend half your time here.".

"You aren't here to bring all that up again, are you?"

"What? No, honey, of course not. Last night I think was productive enough."

"Since when is yelling productive? You never yell."

"At you. I don't yell at you… often. But surely you can see why I'm upset?"

"Yes dad… I know…"

"Tell you what, why don't we go for a walk? I hear there's a very nice garden around here somewhere. Get all the sunshine you can before the weather finally turns."

The pair were soon in the middle of the campus gardens. Most of the flowers had come and gone, but the evergreens, junipers, and other trees still held on. Bushes, oaks and other deciduous varieties were in full display, perhaps the last spot of peak color in the city. Reuben led Ivy to a bench in the middle of the gardens where they would be far enough away from prying eyes and ears. "This is a good spot, isn't it?"

"Dad, why are we here?"

"Because there are things you should know that I don't want others to hear. Now look, I know you're just as tired of me yelling as I am, so I promise I'm not going to yell. But I think it's well past time you and I had a talk about the Lackadaisy."

"I already promised I wasn't going to be hanging out with those boys anymore…"

"I know, and that does put me at ease. It's the nature of this business I don't think you quite understand. Heller, Viktor, Atlas, all of his employees, they weren't your average felines."

"Gangsters? Come on Dad, I figured that out when I was eleven."

"But do you know what a gangster does? Do you know what that life does?"

"Well… there's killing."

"It's not just killing, honey, it's all kinds of terrible things. I started in the business a long time ago, and when your mother and I had you I swore I would not let the choices I've made in life destroy you. So… I took my services out of town and met up with an old friend, Atlas May."

"You knew him that long ago?"

"Of course! And I was quick to name him your godfather. If anything had happened to me, you, your siblings, and your mother would have been under his protection. A few years later Mitzi came into the picture. 'By God, what a woman!' I used to say then. In many ways she is still just as impressive. Smart, cunning, charming, as cool as iced tea in July. For a while there, things were going well!"

Ivy couldn't tell where he was going with the story. Everything sounded great so far, just like the golden years of the Speakeasy she remembered.

"But… money and power change people. Or, more accurately, those things reveal what's inside. Your uncle Atlas did many great things in his life. A mover and shaker in this town! But in time I came to see a different side of him. He was ruthless and ruthlessly efficient. Sure, I shook guys down for debts, got a couple of sweet rides out it too! But Atlas? Guys who didn't pay up disappeared. You could say it was all part of the business, but that wasn't even the worst part."

"What was the worst part?"

"Atlas used people. He used everybody. It was like he was in a chess game against the competition and we were all just different pieces. The more valuable people like Heller, Vasko, and myself were treated with some care, but there were an awful lot of guys who were mere pawns. Ivy, the reason I don't want you involved in the speakeasy is that I don't want you to be used in the same way that Atlas used everyone."

"But Dad, Mitzi wasn't using me! She was doing everything she could to keep this place alive, and I volunteered to help out."

"No, you think you volunteered. But I suppose I can't blame Mitzi too much, because she was getting desperate. She had Viktor and Rocky at one point, right? One and a half men taking on the whole city for her. It was suicide and she knew it. It's just amazing to me that Viktor was the one to bite the dust and not Rocky. That kid barely has any sense."

"Then you don't understand them, Dad. Sure, Rocky is kinda goofy, but he doesn't have a bad bone in his body! That night of the tornado, he took in this little boy and has been protective of him ever since. Then there's Ethan, where to begin? He's saved my life, Dad. Only a few days ago he held off the Green Ones just to give us time to leave! And he survived!"

"Be that as it may, I don't think I want you in St. Louis anymore. When the school year is done, I would rather you come back to Kansas City, or maybe pick a different college. Just look around town, the whole place is going nuts with gangs fighting in the street! I know you're smart enough to realize just how dangerous this place is, which is why it still baffles me that you want to be here despite all of that. Why?"

Ivy looked down and noticed a butterfly, one of the last of the season, floating up into the air and making its way south to better pastures. "What if I told you I found someone?"

Reuben was taken off guard by this. Until now she hadn't mentioned a love interest! "Really, who is the lucky guy?"

"His name is Calvin. Same age as me, but he's more of a… handyman."

"Does he know about this… other life you've been living?"

"He does. He doesn't want to be part of 'the business'. He would rather write, read, build things… and he's got emerald eyes as green as Ireland! And he's the sweetest man I've ever known."

"You're too much like me for your own good, you know that, right?" Reuben said with pride, hugging and kissing his girl on the forehead. "I'd like to meet him, but I need to catch the evening train tonight. Why don't you take him out to Kansas City for Christmas? I'm sure your brother and sister would love to meet him."

"I will, dad. Does that mean I can stay in St. Louis?"

"…we'll see. That hinges on whether you can stay out of trouble for the rest of the school year. Now, have you had lunch yet? There's got to be a good place to eat around here."

Deal with the Devil

"And why are we here, exactly?" Mordecai asked as we got out of the car. "This is too close to the Marigold operation for my liking."

"You wanted to know who killed Atlas, right? Well, something tells me our mutual friend might know a thing or two about that. Besides, I've got some questions of my own for the big guy. And speak of the deal, he's appeared right on cue."

Mordecai's glasses reflected our target, Asa Sweet. "How did you know he comes to this café every day?"

"He always asked to meet here. Eventually I figured out its because he shows up anyway. Now, shall we go get our answers or what?"

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Sweet?" The waitress asked with notebook in hand and wearing a broad smile.

Asa looked up from the menu and pulled a cigar from his mouth to speak. "Miss Wescott, did you enjoy the Ozarks?"

"They were wonderful, sir. Great to get out of the city and enjoy the fall colors."

"I'll bet." He said, smiling back. "Anyway, I think I'll have the usual if you don't mind."

"Of course, sir. Care for some coffee while the food gets going?"

"Sure, doll. Thanks a lot!" Asa then unfolded the newspaper he had tucked under his arm and turned back to the sports section to review his wins and losses. Horse races were still going on, football was now in mid-season, and baseball was finished until spring.

"Care for two more, Asa?" A familiar voice said as he felt someone sit down across from him in the booth. Rolling his eyes, he put down the paper. "I do have quite the afternoon if you don- oh, Ethan, my boy! To what do I owe the pleasure? Wait, who's—"

"Hello, Mr. Sweet" a tall cat dressed in black said as he stood like a statue above the table. "M-Mordecai! I thought you were—"

"Dead? Or that Moreau might have taken care of me after all?"

"Heller, sit down before someone notices us."

"Very well…" He said, sitting at the edge of the booth like a gentleman. A cold demeanor which complimented and contrasted with my more relaxed posture. We had Asa precisely where I wanted him. On the back foot and away from immediate assistance.

The fat cat glared at us both. "So, why are you here? I thought our business was concluded, Ethan. And as for you, Heller, no doubt you've found work elsewhere."

"I have. My new boss' name is Joe Aiello. I'm sure you're familiar with him?"

"Ah yes, the rival to my boss. It seems you weren't listening when I warned you about joining middle management."

"It was a far point, Asa, but at least for the moment no one is trying to kill me… from my own side."

"And that leads me back to my first question. Why are you here, specifically?"

I took off my hat and spun it around to show the hole and faded blood. "I want to know what you desire most. And Mordecai would very much like to kill the man who ordered Atlas' death."

"Oh, is that all? Well, what I desire most right now is to finish lunch and get back to work. And if I were you, Mordecai, I'd drop the topic. Even if you could get close enough to kill the man, it would mark you for life."

"Who is the man?" Mordecai said, lowering his glasses to look his old boss right in the eyes.

"One topic at a time, Heller. I'm afraid that information doesn't come free. What could you offer me in return?"

"How about St. Louis?" I said, looking out the window at the concrete buildings that towered above us, each bigger than the biggest brick building in Butte.

"You'll have to explain that one to me, Ethan. St. Louis?"

"Vito Giannola took your status away, correct? No longer Capone's favorite boss in St. Louis."

"Yes, that was an unfortunate turn in my career. The Green Ones have taken most of our resources, approved by Capone himself."

"I mean to kill Vito, Asa. And when I do, St. Louis will be all yours. Well, at least the half Capone wants."

"He wants it all, Ethan. The moment you kill Giannola you will be marked for death."

"They already think I'm dead. You see that hole there? That's a piece of a bullet which was supposed to kill me. Vito brought in a gangster you might know. Luke Kennedy. I think he and I are destined for a confrontation."

Asa looked between us before laughing. "Ha, even if you could give me this city, I thought our business was concluded. What if I told Capone right now that you're still alive and that Heller is in the city? That would take care of Vito Giannola for me and give me Capone's favor once again."

I could sense Mordecai reaching for his gun, panicking at the idea that Asa would rat him out. I put a hand on his shoulder and shook my head. I still had my ace to play. "You know, Asa, I wonder what Reuben Pepper's reaction would be to finding out that you hired the guy that kidnapped his daughter?"

"Reuben? Since when is he involved in this?"

"Since yesterday when he came to town on the train. As I understand it, Kansas City is looking to get in on the action and I'm willing to bet that a guy with Reuben's influence can put a price on your head. If a game of threats is what you want to play, Asa, then by all means go tell your superiors. We'll meet our fates together."

Asa seemed genuinely concerned about who Reuben could send his way. "Fine! What is it that you want from me?"

"From you? Not much. I want you to stay out of my way. If Vito asks for help, send him the bare minimum. No weapons, no ammo, no resources. Keep your remaining men under your control and out of the fight. Also, Zib's band is in need of some revenue. I'm sure you could squeeze him into the entertainment schedule a couple times a week, right?"

"I have a band at the Marigold—"

"So? Give them a couple days off a week. I'm sure they earned it. Those boys are on the brink of starvation, Asa, consider it an act of charity."

"Ah yes, a charity. How generous of me…"

"See? Now you're looking at things the right way."

Mordecai then cleared his throat. "There is one more thing we require. The name, now if you please."

Asa shook his head. "Are you really willing to die for Atlas? I gotta ask, why? Why risk yourself, your career, everything you've worked to build for yourself just to get the guy who killed your boss? Atlas and I were good friends, but even I could let it go."

"He… Atlas… I owe him for a lot of things. It is my way of paying my debts to him, and that's all I will say on the matter. Now then, I already know that the cat goes by the name of Tony. The trouble is I don't know where he lives or how to get him."

"Fine, its not like I have much to bargain with anyway. You aren't going to like it though. I was in the meeting when it was decided, a terrible decision if you ask me. I begged to try and get Atlas to come join up with me, be allies like we should have been. But… he wanted to stay the course. The man you are looking for is Antonio Lombardo. Tony the Scourge as both friends and enemies call him. He is one man you do not want to mess with. If you kill him, there will be consequences for us all."