Chapter 1

"Our city has sat in the grip of terror for years, but our dedicated police have increased our efforts in combating every issue our community faces.  From petty to the organized crimes that plague our fair city, we will systematically weed out and eliminate every threat to our way of life."  Chief Edgar Higgens paused as the crowd of business tycoons, politicians and high ranking police clapped.  I shifted, uncomfortable as he continued.  His voice faded as I looked around at the faces around me.  I was built for crime scenes and the filthy streets of Chicago, not the fake smiles and deep pockets that filled this room.  I tugged at my bow tie, uncomfortable.

My attention sidled back to the Chief as he built his speech to the reason I was there.  "Of all the hard working officers, there is one who goes above and beyond, one who faces the evil at every turn and stands firm.  I would like to call on Detective Arthur Kane."  He clapped with the crowd as I stood and weaved my way through the crowd to the stage.  My eyes scanned the ballroom as years on the street took their toll.  Was that the glint of a gun?  No, only a lighter and cigarette.  There!  A knife!  No, just glasses.  I worked my shoulders in my tuxedo as I climbed the steps and moved to Higgens.

He extended his hand with a smile, I shook his hand and tried to smile.  He turned me to face the crowd and began listing my completed cases.  When he was finished, he handed me an award and moved so I could speak at the podium.  I cleared my throat and set my speech on the wood, fighting to stop the shaking of my hands.  I opened my mouth to speak, feeling the butterflies in my stomach intensify, when a scream pierced the room.  As everyone turned to the source, my eyes snapped to a figure approaching and my body tensed, butterflies giving way to a rush of adrenaline.

A man stumbled to the stage, gasping and clutching a bloody patch on his side.  He collapsed at the base of the stage as a pool of blood slowly crept from his still form.  Several officers were already making their way to the front of the room and more ran to secure the doors.  I leapt from the stage and to the man, and tried to stop the bleeding.  He grasped weakly at my collar, smearing blood on me, stuttering something.  The crowd was murmuring around us, preventing me from hearing what the man was saying.  His grip loosened and he relaxed, dead.  I looked up at Higgens and shook my head.  Higgens immediately took control and issued orders to the officers and the crowd.

I turned my attention to the man.  I didn't recognize him, he was in his thirties, had dark hair and a well groomed mustache.  I checked the man's wound, it was a deep, elongated gash, a large knife, perhaps.  But a strange clear fluid was mixing with the blood.  I stood as several officers started herding the crowd away from the body.  I pulled one away from the crowd, "Keep an eye on the body and don't let anyone touch it until I get back."  He nodded and stood facing the room.

I looked where the man had come from and immediately saw the trail of blood.  I followed it across the room, careful to not step in it.  I went through a door that led to an empty corridor of the hotel.  I had to slow down to pick out the blood from the carpet; thankfully it was fresh so it stood out more than if it were dry.  It led me to a stairway with a door leading to the street.  The blood started just inside the stairway.  There was a patch of blood on one wall, but more importantly, there was another body.  It was a woman in an evening dress, she was far younger than the other victim.  Her beautiful long golden hair and delicate features were marred by blood.  She had been stabbed repeatedly and violently, almost eviscerated.  I looked out the door, scanning the alley for any clues, but saw little.  I sighed as I returned beside the body; I stared at her dead eyes and pulled out a cigarette.  The door opened behind me and a familiar voice gasped, "Jesus Christ."  I took a long drag on my cigarette and nodded.

Frank Stone stepped around me and knelt beside the body.  Frank was a few inches shorter than I, his dark hair longer than my buzz cut but still short and his thin frame barely filled his tuxedo.  My partner looked up at me, "The one day you get an achievement award, huh?  I squinted past the smoke wafting from my cigarette, but said nothing.  Frank turned back to the body, "The other vic is a bigwig at Greystone, Martin Keyes.  This looks like his daughter."  I sighed, "Damn.  Greystone."  Greystone was one of the largest property developers and construction in Chicago.  They built at least half of the buildings in the city and almost all of the houses just outside of the city.  They were also run by one of the strongest mafia families in Chicago.  Frank stood, "Once they catch wind of this, I doubt we'll get far with this investigation."  I nodded in agreement, they were notorious for their secretive ways, withholding information from investigators of every description and handling things 'in house'.

Frank continued, checking the alley as I had, "We need to hurry if we want to catch the killer."  I blew a lungful of smoke and corrected, "Killers."  He frowned, prompting me to explain, "The cigarette butts by the dumpster.  Too many for one assailant.  There are also bruises on Mr. Keyes, wrists.  Someone held him while they stabbed his girl, from the looks of his wound, they got him when he was getting away."  Frank rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Didn't get far.  Chief hasn't realized who Martin is yet, but when he does, you can be sure he'll call us off the case.  It doesn't sit right with me, Arthur.  We gotta find who did this."

I looked at my young partner and remembered when I was his age, determined to do right.  Stop the bad guys and lock them up.  Only, in the real world, I've seen most of them walk.  That's the thing with Chicago in 1938, petty criminals are one thing, but we deal with the mob.  I've caught made men up to bosses, and every time, they are out on the streets before I can pat myself on the back.  We got to work, processing the crime scene and gathering evidence.  Once the boys from the department arrived, I head back home to change, my tuxedo was covered in blood.  When I returned, Frank was already back as well, his clean, crisp suit and coat contrasted my own rumpled suit.

When Frank noticed me he walked up to me, flipping his notebook to a certain page, "Right now, we only have one witness, a janitor saw Mr. Keyes stumble in from the stairwell to the hallway then into the ballroom.  He claims he didn't realize Mr. Keyes was bleeding, so he didn't get help or check the stairs."  I grunted acknowledgment and lit a cigarette.  Frank waved the smoke and continued, "Higgens is ordering an official investigation once the scene is processed but told us to stand down once the scene is processed.  Fat chance?"  I nodded, "Fat chance."  We headed outside and once we stepped out into the night, Frank lowered his voice, "I don't like it, but I didn't mention you knew Keyes."

I stared stoically into the distance, "I've never seen Martin Keyes until tonight."  Frank grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him, stating softly, "I'm talking about Alice Keyes."  I should have known he would have figured it out by now.  Alice and I had been meeting regularly for months now.  I had given her my card, and my partner held up my blood soaked card up.  I took the card in one shaking hand.  Franks voice shifted unconsciously from a gentle tone of a friend to the crisp professional detective of CPD, "How long have you been sleeping with the victim?"  I stared at my card, the edges were curled up and somewhat ragged, the bloodstains had soaked in, part of my name set in a crimson background.  Frank repeated the question, my eyes snapped up to his, "I wasn't sleeping with her.  She was- she was a friend."  Frank stared at me intently, trying to determine if I was lying.

Finally he nodded his head and his voice returned to normal.  "I'm sorry, Arthur, I know you don't have many friends.  If there is anything I can do to help," his voice trailed off as the unspoken offer hung between partners.  I felt my eyes harden, "Help me find her killer, Frank."  Frank grinned at me, "Of course, partner."

Reviews

[wagonburner]

Great start. Suggestion, that level of society would have applauded, not clapped. Great job pal, still think you should submit to publisher. Opah

[Carol Cashes]

Hmmm...Dick Tracy or Clint Eastwood? Nope...just Arthur Kane. A man among men. This is very crisp and cleanly told. Very good. I'm intrigued...is there more?

[Servanov]

This was extremely interesting. I enjoy that the type of person our main character is has been established in the very beginning, and does not seem forced in any way. I also enjoy the way the beginning intrigues you to start. This felt very reminiscent of the 1960s Alfred Hitchcock thrillers, which I particularly enjoy. Vey well done!

[wagonburner]

Erm....thanks...i suppose I shall try to keep up with this one.