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Feb-11-2009 11:40

November 5, 1934 - New York - The Tricky Mister - close to midnight

“You want me to rob a bank?!?” said Joey in surprise, suddenly realizing his voice was a little louder than he would’ve wanted to. He quickly scouted the room and was relieved to see no one seemed to have heard him. The Tricky Mister wasn’t really crowded on that late week night.

His interlocutor though didn’t seem to bother much about this situation. He was a middle age slim man in a dark pin striped suit, sitting relaxed across the table with both hands crossed in front of him. His tie was straight, his jacket fully buttoned up, his hair posed a clean arrangement on a side. A short and perfectly cut mustache was framing a slightly prankish smile, as his eyes were thoroughly scouting Bane’s reactions. Although his attitude was loose, he seemed to be the kind of man who always likes to keep himself sharp.

After a short moment of silence he slowly lowered his look, shaking his head in an almost imperceptible move, miming a disappointment gesture. “Mr. Bane” he continued in a low voice “that is…’come si dice’…” snaps his fingers “ILLEGAL!” He rose back up his eyes. “We are not asking you to do anything against the law, but only to acquire the possession of some documents that actually regard US. It just happens that these papers are currently stored in a safe deposit box inside the National Bank and since we have already attained this piece of information, we believed it would be helpful to pass it on to you, in order to make your work easier. However you will decide to retrieve these documents, it is entirely up to you.” He stopped, straightened up his back and took a sip out of the wine glass he had ordered. “Exquisite flavor, Mr. Bane, you should give it a try.”

“Ya, well…I’m more the whiskey type of man. Now…Mr…”

Feb-15-2009 15:46

Day 1 - November 6, 1934 - a bit past midday - Joey’s apartment

Bane was breathing hard from the effort of walking in his current condition and from the loss of blood. “Damn…he messed me up pretty good” he grumbled. “How the hell am I going to rob a bank jumping around in one foot?” He looked at the note in his hand and then lifted his eyes at Rose. “Fix me up a whisky on rocks, kid.” Rose started heading towards the kitchen. “On second thought…” he continued “…forget the ice. Just bring me the whole damn bottle.”

Rose stopped a bit looking back over her shoulder as if she was going to protest, but then she appeared to have decided against it. “As you wish, monsieur.”

Bane took a thirsty gulp from the bottle and then poured a bit over his bandage. “Damn, this was an expensive suit!” said him looking at his ripped off pants. He took another gulp and rested the bottle close to him on the couch, still holding it by the neck. Rose sat down on a nearby chair, hands on her knees, waiting for him to address her again.

After a few minutes of silence she decided to speak up: “Monsieur, you have been so kind to me. If there is anything I can do for you…”

Bane looked at her as if he was awakening out of a dream. “Well, actually…there is.” He straightened up his position on the couch and continued. “Look here, kid…I am…messed up in a tricky situation. I need some help with it.” His eyes then felt upon his wounded leg. “Especially now, under this condition…” He took another gulp. “The less you know, the safer you are, so I’m just gonna give you the basics.”

Feb-15-2009 15:46

He reached his chest pocket, took out Mona’s picture and handed it to her. “This is an old friend of mine. Her name is Mona McGregor. I am supposed to do a certain job, or else she’s gonna end up as fish food on the bottom of the river. She’s currently being held up by the mob. Now here’s the thing: I’m almost certain that I won’t be able to do this job in time. This means I have to find her…and fast. I need to grab her out of their hands.” He grinned in pain while attempting to set his bandage straight. “This is…dangerous for a child, but I figure that if you’ve managed to survive so far, you will do fine. I need you to scout the city a bit...and especially a few locations.” He pointed towards a desk by the window. “Bring me a pen and paper, kid.”

Rose watched him silently as he was writing down some addresses. “Check out the one at the docks first. They are a few safe houses that the mob’s using…as far as I know, anyway. Lay low, try not to raise suspicion.” He stretched his arm intending to hand her the paper and then stopped. Pulling it back he wrote another address on the back. “Go here first” he said. “It is a pool parlor downtown. Go in and ask for ‘Whispers’. Tell him you come from me and give him this.” He reached his neck and pulled out a small medallion. It was a bullet…one looking as if it was shot and hit a wall or something. Joey handed it to her along with the note and continued: “He owes me a big favor. You give him that and he’ll know I’m in trouble. Tell him to move his arse in here fast. I’ll be waiting for him.” He took another gulp. “Now be gone, kid. And don’t be spending the night outside. If you don’t find anything, come back. You’ll try again tomorrow.”

Feb-15-2009 15:47

Rose got up aiming for the door. “Will you be fine, monsieur?”

“Don’t worry about me, kid. I’ve lived through harder wounds than this.” As she was just about to leave he stopped her. “Kid…put on the worn out coat that you were wearing when I met you. You’ll look a lot less suspicious in it.”

Rose made a grimace of disgust thinking about putting on that rag again, but he was right. She picked it up and left.

Upon remaining alone in the room, Joey started again to speak his mind out loud: “There’s only one possible reason for J.C. to do what he did. He must be in on it…robbing the bank. He wanted me out of the way.” He looked back at the piece of paper Rose had handed him. “He’s also not a stranger to Barresi. Hmmm…well…J.C….we need to have a chat. But this time it will be one in my terms.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his revolver. “You might’ve wanted just to wound me, but I ain’t gonna play with you…partner.”

Feb-16-2009 02:15

JC scaled up the fire escape two steps at a time, with a bottle of the finest Macallan single malt scotch in his hand. The air was crisp and dry this November afternoon, JC wondered when it would start snowing in New York. Snow was already an inch thick where he left Kristen; he wondered how she was holding on. He knew he needed to finish the job quickly, get paid and return to her. Kristen couldn’t wait.

Joey’s apartment was on the fourth floor. JC slowed his pace as he reached the landing, and stalked quietly to the large window by the back door. He peered inside; Joey was sitting on the couch looking furious, with a revolver in his hand. JC checked his own guns in his holsters, but decided to leave them there for the time being. No use making a bad situation worse. He was quick enough to get to it if necessary. JC took out a thin wire and began to pick the lock.

Although enraged, Joey’s keen sense of hearing didn’t diminish. He knew someone’s behind the backdoor, and focused his attention on it. His gun was aimed at the handle. Three knocks were heard, before the door flung open. No one was at the doorway.

JC, with his back to the outer wall beside the now opened doorway, called into the living room, “Hi again, old partner. Something for your wound.” He held out the bottle of scotch whiskey at the doorway with his left hand so that Joey could see it. Joey fired a shot and the bottle shattered, broken pieces of glass scratched JC’s hand. JC pulled back.

Feb-16-2009 02:16

“Jeez! That was an expensive bottle of Macallan!” JC exclaimed. It was money JC couldn’t afford.

Silence.

“What did you want me to think, Bull?” Removing glass bits from his hand, JC fought the natural urge to pull his gun out, and continued, “You suddenly showed up and said you knew I was in town, and went all cryptic about a bank job you had to do, which I MYSELF was commissioned? Wouldn’t you find it strange? These are hard times Bull, if you’re lucky enough not to notice!” JC sighed, “I’ve just been to Barresi’s and straightened the whole thing up. We’re both in it.”

Suddenly Joey showed up at the doorway and pointed the gun at JC’s temple. His face was pale from the stab wound. “Go ahead and shoot,” JC smirked, “Kristen’d be dead without this commission money anyway, and then there’s no point for me to go on living.”

Feb-16-2009 17:34

Joey stood there for a moment, as if pondering the idea of actually putting a bullet through J.C.’s skull. He was still furious about what happened and he was also never a church door, but even though he had a harder temper to control, one thing that he was surely NOT, was a cold blooded killer. He couldn’t pull that trigger even if he wanted…not under those conditions anyway. He also knew J.C. might be his only ticket out of this mess.

“I don’t believe you want to use that weapon, Bull…” J.C. posed a large smile. “Too many eyes around here and also…you might come to the conclusion that I’m more use to you alive.” Bane was still staring at him, thinking of his next move. J.C. continued: “Listen, Bull…I’m sorry about what happened back there in that alley, but you do know that stab was only meant to hurt you, no? You can’t really believe I tried to kill you, partner.” He slowly turned his face around towards Joey, who was still silent. J.C.’s voice started again, now slightly softened: “You have to understand, Kristen…”

“Don’t serve me one of your cheap melodramas!” Bane interrupted him in rage. “I know you too well to believe you…and even if it would prove to be truth, I wouldn’t give a dime about it. Now take out that piece and hand it over. SLOWLY!” Bane wasn’t sure what he should do, but knew he needed to control the situation. “And don’t forget the blade” he added.

J.C. didn’t like the idea of surrendering his weapons, but he knew Bane too well to actually believe he was in any danger; thus he decided to comply. Upon disarming him, Bane took a step back. “Now come in. And don’t make any sudden moves. Considering the wound you gave me, I might just pull this trigger by mistake, you know…”

Feb-16-2009 17:35

J.C. stepped in, still shaking pieces of glass off his sleeve. “Ok, now…are we just going to stand here, or do you plan to offer an old friend a seat?” He smiled again. Bane pointed towards the couch, then headed slowly to an armchair somewhere in front of it. He dropped down hard, showing he wasn’t handling his wound very well. He picked up the bottle and took another strong gulp out of it.

“You’re gonna let me die of thirst here, Bull? Come on, hand me that bottle.” He stretched his arm towards Bane but was stopped by the cold sound of his revolver being armed.

“Sit down there and listen, J.C.” Bane’s voice was getting slightly softer as his face got paler every second. “I ain’t in mood for any of your stories and this here ain’t no social call. Answer my questions straight and you might end up walking out that door on two feet.” His eyes were getting visibly blurry, as his hand was slowly dropping down from the weight of the gun. “Now you said you…were hired…to…” With that Bane has passed out, dropping the whiskey bottle on the floor.

“Damn…” J.C. mumbled…“either I’m losing my soft touch or he is getting old. I didn’t think I messed him up so bad.” He got up aiming again for the bottle. “I guess I’d better help myself under these circumstances.”

Feb-16-2009 17:36

As he was slowly leaning for the bottle the door had suddenly burst open with a powerful noise. The silhouette of a large man was filling up its frame. He took a look at Joey’s senseless body and then he turned his face towards J.C. His eyes suddenly filled with rage…the kind that a rabid animal exhibits in a moment of madness. With a totally unexpected agility for his size, he jumped towards J.C. and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him hard into a mirror on a nearby wall. He started strangling him as he was slowly lifting his body off the floor. J.C. tried to reach for his gun, then for the blade he used to carry, cursing himself while realizing he had just given both away. He tried to fight the stranger off, but his grip was too strong.

As the man felt that J.C.’s strength was wearing off, he reached his pocket and took out a straight razor. He opened it up placing it on J.C.’s cheek as his face slowly turned into a sadistic grin. “Now Whispers gonna cut you a big nice smile, mate. Say good night.” His voice sounded more like the cold murmur of a snake rather than like a human being’s. As J.C.’s sight was starting to fade, he heard Bane’s voice like coming from a dream.

“Yo, Whispers, set him loose! I need him ‘live and kicking.”

The man turned his eyes in surprise. “You are alive, Joey!?! I thought…” He looked back at J.C. “You sure about this? I was just getting to the good part.”

“I’m positive, yeah. Let him go.”

“Next time…” the man said looking in J.C.’s eyes, then let him drop hard on the floor. He headed then towards Joey and helped him straighten his position.

It took J.C. a good couple of minutes to recover. He got up stumbling towards the couch, picked up the bottle on his way and took a long gulp. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and started talking in a gutted voice: “Now what the hell was that, Joey? What’s with this guy?”

Feb-16-2009 17:38

Joey seemed to be feeling a little better now, as his voice sounded more clear. “This is…a real friend of mine. Also…as you’ve already noticed, he is a very devoted one too.” A small grin of satisfaction lighted Bane’s face while looking at J.C. rubbing his neck and trying to recover after the shock he had been put through. “Now open up your ears, as I assume neither of us has a lot of time. Considering a note you dropped and also what you said a few minutes ago, I am assuming you were hired by Barresi for the same job as I was: to rob a certain safe deposit box and deliver its content. The fact that you stabbed me this morning leads me to the conclusion that you really didn’t know about me. Now, one thing I don’t understand about this is…why would he bring me in on this if he already had you? I don’t have any field experience in this direction and also your connections are better. This practically may only mean one thing: I must be here to ensure that you deliver as soon as you get to the merchandise. Hmmm…that makes sense.” Joey was basically speaking out loud, both to J.C. and to himself. “Well…after all, it wouldn’t be the first time you would try selling your loot to the highest bidder.”

“Well now…why wouldn’t I? We’re both in this so…we could split the cash.”

“Actually no, J.C., we’re not. You see, my bid is slightly higher than cash in this business. In order to convince me they’ve grabbed Mona.”

“Mona? Thought she was gone from here long ago!”

“Apparently she’s back. So now, you see…I can’t afford the luxury of having those papers end up in the wrong hands.” Joey stopped for a moment, thinking. “How long have you been planning this, J.C.?”

Feb-16-2009 17:38

“About a week and a half now. Everything’s set. We’re planning to get in tomorrow.”

“A clean job? Like the old days? Who’s in your crew? “Mad” Jimmy? Frankie “Lock”? Charlie “The Gun”?”

J.C. suddenly burst in laughter. “As usual, your information is badly outdated, Bull. “Mad” Jimmy ended up in the mental hospital downtown, Frankie “Lock” is locked down in Folsom and “The Gun” blew his brains into the shower sometime around the middle of last year. Nah…I got a new crew now. And the best thing about it is…they’re expendable…if you get my drift.”

“New crew, you say…I guess it’s good. Well…anyway, since I don’t trust you and you’ve made the unfortunate decision of incapacitating me this morning, I’m gonna send my friend here with you.”

J.C. looked up at Whispers who was standing beside him, looking just as an eagle eyeing his next victim. “Come on, Bull. Let’s be serious. This guy is big and scary…he can attract attention. He will just slow me down. I know we had our differences, but I don’t need babysitter.”

“We’re not negotiating, ‘friend’. You’re walking out of here with him or legs ahead…your choice. He’s gonna be my eyes from now on and also…let me tell you a little thing about him. You see…back in his youth he was the leader of one of the most powerful gangs in New York. Unfortunately he got captured in the middle of a war. They tortured him in ways you can’t imagine. They cut him up from head to toe and in the end…they cut his throat. Now…by some miracle he managed to survive, but was left with the funny voice you have already had the pleasure of hearing. Starting that day he also had developed a strange obsession for blades. Needless to say not even by this day had the police managed to find all the pieces of those guys who brought him in this state. So I have only one advice for you: don’t make any wrong moves with him around. Now…what’s it gonna be?”