Chapter Four: The Dress Party

Manns finds a surprise in the Belvedere projects...

The Belvedere projects were not for the light hearted. K.R Manns had made various arrests back in the day, and some of the most dangerous thugs this side of town resided in this hell hole. He had his car parked on a street corner, and across the dark humid street was a project building. All these forgotten rocks resembled prisons, he always thought. He would stake out the place for at least an hour. He had his colt .38 at the ready, and was ready to surprise anybody who would crash the dress party up in Eyes apartment. Having the upperhand in this game of cats and mice was a primary step in staying alive as an ex cop and detective in New Harmony. He lit up a cigarette and continued the wait. It was drizzling, and smoke rose from the allies of the run down place.

 Something was strange, he thought. The hussling on these streets never stopped, drug dealers selling to their desperate customers, and women of the night all adorned this place up until the sun rose. But this time, the streets were bare. Save for the occasional drunkie that would tumble his way through the hard, broken concrete. Manns took a flask of whisky from the inside pocket of his spoarts jacket and took a long drink, the alcohol warming up his insides. The smoke and the booze rarely helped his clarity, but this time, he was seeing everything better than he had before. He looked at his watch. One thirty eight am. He had been there for a solid hour and twenty. He had to move. K.R Manns opened the door of his car, and made his way across the broken down street, to the building where the promised dress supposedly resided. Then, Manns knew. He was being watched. There were eyes on every corner, cars he hadn't seen before, parked around the visible strategic points of escape. He was boxed in. 

These fellas were ready to gun him down the moment he retrieved the dress. Just like the ginger had told him. Manns went up two floors, where he had been told to go by Eyes. There it was. Number 203. Manns had his weapon at the ready. He kicked the door furiously and pointed his weapon at the living room. Nothing but a small barking dog, a broken TV, a filthy house and drugs on a coffee table.Then he heard stirring. It was coming from one of the two rooms down the hallway. Manns pointed his weapon at the door. He opened and was quickly attacked by a large figure. The hulking mass of an assailant tried to take the gun from Manns, but he quickly kneed him in the groin and pointed the weapon at his face. What he saw, he didn't expect at all. He was a large man, in boxers and a white pijama shirt. He was balding, and looked like someone who had been good looking and proud in his prime.

 The good living, the drugs had gotten to him, and reduced him to this. He didn't look like one of this Rojas' goons. Manns pointed the gun at him. ´You have about thrity seconds to give me your story if you don't want a bullet in your head junkie.´ ´F**k you man, this is my place! I live here!´. Either this guy was a big fat liar, or Manns was in the wrong building entirely. And he wasn't one to let slip a little detail like this. ´This place belongs to a dead guy called Walter Forster. Maybe you know him as Eyes´. ´I don't know what your talking about!! I- I was hoping to find someone to sell me a little something. But this has been my place for the past week. My dad owns this whole godamn building I swear!´. Then Manns took a better look at the green eyes this pathetic addict had. And the large ears.

 ´I've seen you before. In the paper. Your Phillip Regis's son, Cal Regis, aren't you?´ inquired Manns, not taking the weapon off him. ´Yeah, that's me. Or was me. My  father was too f*****g proud to acknowledge that his son's was a junkie. So here I am. In a dead end project looking for someone with drugs to sell.´ Manns then realized it. The hitmen downstairs knew that this kid was too important to kill themselves, and wanted Manns to end him.  They must've thought it inconvenient to draw other's to the dress, especially the cops, since they were as corrupt and out to get a piece of the action as much as the next gangster. Manns then knew they would be expecting the bullet.

 Manns aimed his weapon at the celing and let off a gunshot. ´What the hell are you doing you lunatic!´cried Cal, as he covered his head from the ceiling's debris. ´Stay put´, said Manns. He began searching the rooms. It took him five minutes of searching the most hard to find places, until he remembered that Eyes wasn't the smartest knife in the kitchen, and he had mentioned leaving it under the matress. Manns lifted it and what he saw didn't surprise him. Nothing. Someone had been there before him. Someone knew about this dress, and the goons outside had no idea that they had already been played. And who was this junkie? nothing in Manns experience was coincidence. These thugs would've gunned down anybody, but for whatever reason, they didn't want this guy's blood on their hands. From an intelligent point of view, as Manns had thought before, calling unnecessary attention to that dress was exactly what whoever was trying to retrieve it was avoiding.

 That person being Rojas, his number one suspect. Why else would he have sent the ginger to kill him? ´C'mere, you sad sack of crap. Me and you are gonna have a little talk, so loosen up your tongue and answer quickly, unless you want my friend Mr. Colt .38 to make another visit´. Cal quickly nodded in agreement. ´There was something very important here, something alot of dangerous people are after. Something that if we don't play it carefully, will get me and you killed. So it strikes me as unprobable that a fella so well connected with dope would have to come exactly to this shithole. The exact same one every wiseguy and two bit crook are circling right now. So why are you here? remember, I don't care if your rich or poor, you don't bleed gold or silver, but red. So get talkin'´.

 Manns spoke through gritted teeth. ´Come on dude I told you, this is my dad's building! I once bought a good line of chop from some guys in this block, that's why I'm here! my old man's dead, and his b***h of a wife took him for all he was worth. She owns everything now, there's nothing left for me but this! drugs are all I have man...She talked about this place a while ago, something about this building in the Belvedere ghuettos, I thought she was gonna tear them down.That's when I remembered! I had to get some of the craziest blow in New Harmony before the b***h tore the building's down! But this place is still my dad's, I don'tcare what some s****y legal papers say! I'm his son, even if he hated me, this place is MINE!´, exclaimed Cal. 

He had began whimpering. Manns could see why his father had seen him as pathetic. Crying in his underwear about losing drugs. There was rock bottom, and then there was this guy. ´Wait a minute... your step mother...why was she interested in these projects?´´The b***h is my age man. She always wanted to srew over my old man, and leave me with nothing. Grade A gold digger. She talked about this place a while back, with some of her friends. Swinger couples or some crap, the hell if I know. But I figured it was to tear this place down´. Manns wondered. ´And what does this dame do with her time nowadays?´. ´She bought a famous club in China town, and performs there. She always wanted to be a singer, the narcisistic b***h. She performs there every friday and saturday´. ´Where?´, asked Manns, sternly. ´Honey Doll's, down in China town´. Manns remembered what Eyes told him. The Italians had mentioned the place. And now the dress was gone, and this broken bum's step mother was somehow involved.

 A dame wanting control over her husband's business, that he could understand, but a dress important to part of the Italian mob?why get into that sort of trouble? it couldn't be good for business. ´Put some pants on Cal. Me and you have a date with the cold wet concrete below´. Manns walked over to the fire escape to check if the coast was clear. It led down into an alleyway, which would lead them to the street paralell to the one the hitmen were waiting at. The light drizzle had become pouring rain. Cal had put on a pair of jeans he found lying around Eyes' room. They had to make their escape. It was now or never.