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Feb-17-2011 13:11

New York at night can be overwhelming to your senses if your not used to it. Thats how I felt tonight, as I did on occasion. I was taking a stroll down the street when I began to hear a pleasant sound. At first I couldn't identify the sound or even it's location but it shortly became clear to me.

I had unknowingly stumbled into the newest city development, Storyville. In an attempt to mimic the famed New Orleans district, some politician or other had suggested a city revitalization project and so this neo-Storyville was born. In the NY Storyville, the jazz and liquor flowed all night long. The political powers that be had intended for this to be a center for the arts which it was, but it was also a haven of sin. Booze and women of the night were not unfamiliar to those who frequented the Storyville streets this late in the evening. Gangs also constantly loomed, waiting for drunken marks to pick a pocket or land a black jack.

While I had not intention of imbibing since I never consumed alcohol, I did want to find the jazz club that was producing that soulful sound. I began walking in the direction that I was fairly certain the sound was coming from when a woman emerged from an ally.

"Hey honey, you need some company? I'll make sure you have a good time tonight." She was almost yelling in a drunken or otherwise altered state.

"Gratitude for the offer but I got a fight coming up and women weaken legs y'know." I replied.

"Oh, a boxer are you? You must be some big tough guy, huh? Come over here and show me how tough you are."

"I'm not half so tough as you I'll bet, but I gotta run before that jazz band quits pla-" She cut me off mid-sentence.

"Get this fool, boys." Without a sound, four mean looking gentlemen emerged from the darkness of the alley. They were toting brass knuckles and stiletto knives. The closest guy had a huge grin which I found unsettling. Suddenly mister smiles up front pounced.

Mar-16-2011 13:49

As we made our way into the city center I knew exactly where to go. Inside the city center there was a cigar shop owned by one Paul Consolini. This place was where most of the bosses would hold private meetings after it was closed for the public. Meetings were usually held twice a week to report. Tonight just so happened to be one of the nights. Dona Isabella Santenelli would arrive first, followed by two more unnamed bosses from the neighboring cities.

"We're early," I said as we walked in.
Paul Consolini was built like a rock. The muscle structure on his body could be seen through is $200 Italian hand made suit. "Hey, how you doin?" He said as the door shut.

I turned around and locked the door. "Your closed for the time being. We got some questions to ask you."

"You're nuts," he said, "now get out of here before I blow both of youse away." He reached under the desk and pulled out a pump action shot gun.

Attached to my right wrist was a custom made spring loaded mechanism that I simply called The Springer. The Springer was holding a .22 caliber North American Arms revolver; a tiny 5 shot revolver that could, in the right hands, inflict a considerable amount of damage. With the flick of my wrist, I activated the springer and the gun, in a blink of an eye appeared in the palm of my hand ready to fire.

"I dont' think so," I said. I fired one shot that the man's hand."

"AAAGGHHH!" He screamed as he dropped the rifle.

"Mr. Consolini," I said, "I really dont' like doing this, but I think you would have some information my friend here and I need. So you going to talk?"

Mar-18-2011 01:39

"You shot me you son of a -aaah!" The large man in the fine suit didn't get to finish his sentence before Ed put the barrel of his revolver into the wound where a palm used to reside.

"Cyril, this is Mister Paul Consolini as you might have inferred. Say hello Paul, be friendly to your new acquaintance." Ed twisted the revolver causing Consolini to scream and curse up a storm. "Guess he isn't in the mood for introductions." Ed said with a little chuckle. I took this time to grab up the cut down pump gun and get it out of arms reach from the slightly disgruntled Consolini.

"Quit twisting that freakin gun you lunatic! I'll tell you whatever you want just please stop!" Ed stopped for a moment. He considered briefly what he would ask and how to proceed from here.

"Paul, we have some questions for the guests you plan on entertaining later this evening. We need to find out some information and we don't want to try and play rough with any faction bosses like we had to with you. We want you to facilitate a little question and answer session with some of the bosses." Ed said with authority. I stayed quiet because I was sure Ed knew the score better than me in this matter.

"Not on your life. Just because you got the drop on me doesn't mean you'll leave here alive. I got big friends in the factions. They'll see you shot me in my own shop and they aren't gonna be answering no questions... they're gonna be burying you in a shallow grave." Paul said with a self satisfied smirk. Ed looked at me and I at him for only a moment. In this instant, Consolini dove behind his thick oak desk. Ed fired a shot and it would have been a killer had it not been for the thick desk. Consolini popped out from behind the desk with a colt 1911 and put the sights on me. I dipped behind a fancy grandfather clock. The shot missed but the .45 slug jumped right through the clock like it was a piece of newspaper. I was in a bit of trouble.

Mar-18-2011 01:59

Ed knew killing Consolini would put the brakes on our questions to the faction leaders so he put one of the .22 bullets through Conolini's thigh to cripple him. I don't know if it was adrenaline or pure rage but the little bullet ran in and out of his leg without Consolini seeming to notice. Consolini put another round through the clock. The bullet smashed through the face and crushed all the tiny gears that let it keep such accurate time. It missed my own head by three or four inches. Ed fired two quick shots emptying his revolver. One shot landed in Consolini's side and one round bounced off a marble bust on the desk. The shot in Consolini's side would be painful later but certainly not life threatening. I was in enormous trouble. I popped out from behind the clock to see if I could bum rush consolini before he could shoot me. No such luck, with a smile his brought the gun up towards my head. No shot fired. I saw the shell casing caught in the slide, a stove pipe jam. I seized the opportunity to smash Consolini with a one two combo right on the jaw. It hurt him but he didn't drop, the guy had a chin like a cast iron cooking stove. Then Ed brained him with the butt of the shotgun that was previously laid against the wall. That put Consolini to sleep in a hurry.

This was a wonderful turn of events! Ed and I stood in the cigar shop office. The place had bullet holes and torn up clock pieces, not to mention the bloodied and unconscious owner on the floor the bosses were expecting to greet them. "A fine damn mess we got now Ed. How are we gonna get these bosses to not kill us, nevermind chat with us." I said without much hope for the outcome.

"Relax Cyril, there may be hope yet. We'll have to work fast, the bosses will be here soon." He grabbed the slumbering Consolini by the legs and I followed his lead and grabbed the arms.

Mar-22-2011 23:43

"If this plan doesn't work you realize they are gonna plug a thousand holes in us with the choppers." I said to Ed through my tightly clenched jaw

"Yeah, well we better pray it works Cyril." He looked pretty nervous himself. We were waiting on dona Santanelli. We had cleaned our suits up and removed Consolini from the front room. He was tied up and gagged pretty tightly but he was gonna be alright aside from a horrendous headache. We had something like a plan but it was pretty dicey.

A car door shut loudly outside of the store and we tensed up knowing who would be strolling through that door waiting for Consolini who would never show up. three ugly thugs walked through the door and stopped promptly in front of us. They looked aggressively at us but they didn't point any of their thompsons at us which had the big drum magazines full of bullets ready to shred us. Dona Santanelli walked through the door last.

"What the hell is this? Who are you and where is that fool Consolini?" She wasn't happy and the goons were looking ready to do some work with the tommys.

"My name is mister Carlyle and I am a close associate of mister Consolini's. This is my bodyguard, mister Banks. Regrettably, mister Consolini can't attend tonight as he is involved in pressing business. He asked for me to welcome you and offer you anything you may want or need while in his establishment." Ed was smooth but Santanelli didn't get to be the head of a crime syndicate by being overly trusting.

"Yeah, thats real likely. Consolini should be here. Nothing that peasant could be doing should be more important than my piece of mind. I suspect that I might just have my boys here take care of you. I never seen you in my life and I don't trust people I haven't met. Wait a minute, I think I recognize you. Big boy, did you used to be a big shot boxer and had a champ belt at one point? Yeah, I remember you, I actually won a good chunk of money on you in one of your title fights."

Mar-22-2011 23:47

This was a step in the right direction, but we weren't out of hot water yet. The dona had recognized me from my fights and better yet, she had won money betting on me.

"I'm glad I could've come through for you dona" I said with a tone of respect that didn't have a hint of the disdain that I felt for this criminal.

"Yeah, you're okay. What the hell does Consolini think he is doing leaving me to get babysat by some hood and a punch drunk pug. He has some nerve. Well I figure my boys don't need to kill you fellas but you better get the hell out of here before the other bosses get here. I don't think all of them could have won money on you.

Mar-23-2011 19:42

When my dear friend Edward Carlyle contacted for help with an interrogation, I was a bit skeptical about doing it. He and a man named Cyril Banks needed information about The Fangs of Cerberus. I myself had never heard of them but I had done some research on them when he told me about them. But when they brought me an unconscious man by the name of Paul Consolini, I knew I could make him do what they couldn't and make him talk.

I sat in front of him in darkness while a single small light bulb dangled in front of him. He was tied to a chair His right hand had a small hole in it from being hit with small caliber bullet. He started to come to and wake up.

"Ugh.....where.....where am I?" He asked out loud as he woke up.

"You're in a place where no one can hear you scream." I said to him.

"Who are you?"

"My name is not important. But what is important is your information about the Fangs of Cerberus."

Silence filled the room for enough time for me to light my cigar.

"What do you know?" I asked as I blew the smoke into his face. He coughed from inhaling the smoke.

"I don't know anything!" He said.

"Don't lie to me, Mr. Consolini," I said, "it will only make matters worse."

"Who are you, you son of a-"

He was interrupted by me pistol whipping him across the face. "See what I mean? If you don't talk each method will only get worse!" I moved my cigar closer to his cheek. With out a hesitation I burned his face with the cigar and he screamed in agony.

"Now tell me what you know!" I yelled in his face.

"Fine!" He screamed, "I'll tell you all I know. Just please let me live."

"Maybe," I said. "Just maybe..."

Mar-23-2011 19:49

"The Fangs are a small off group of Cosa Nostra. Mostly found out west near the city of Los Vegas in Nevada. Bugsy Seigal did some work with them and Luciano never knew about it and its a good thing that Seigal got whacked before Luciano found out about it." Consolini explained. He continued, "I'm not quite sure who they are but I know they're very shady about who they do business with. Most of them work in law offices as lawyers and judges. Its pretty smooth for them to do that, if you ask me-"

"No one is asking you!" I said to him.

He got quiet again and i took a long drag off of my cigar. So that was it. They were in Vegas. I'd always heard of the city but I had never been there. I wouldn't be surprised if there was an Italian community that ran the city either.

I left him in the ware house that I had placed him in, just two miles out side of the city. He would be found sooner or later. I had to tell Ed and Cryril what I found out.