Lakefront and Mrs. Grey

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Chapter One

Bad Debts

It was the morning of August 10^th, 1924, Kathleen Grey was sitting quietly at the ferry's stern when the altercation occurred. She herself was nearly invisible in the thick fog, hardly making a sound as she read the New York Times by the light of a porthole behind her. Thus those whose job it was to insure their masters privacy failed to notice her danger, thinking her perhaps deaf when she ignored their approach. On the front page of her paper was a large piece about a certain rising star reporters shocking suicide. It seemed that he had leapt out of his offices sixth floor building, his failed liaison with a certain popular young lady was suspected of being the cause. That story hadn't interested her, for she knew the truth of that fall. Having eased the unconscious body over its balcony herself. What had interested her were the few stories regarding her destination, the small lake harbor city of Lakefront. Lakefront was a small city that had just weathered a rather nasty gang war. One who’s very action had brought in both state and federal enforcement officers into town. Now things were calming down, until the want-to-be’s made their moves. It had been truly a crippling war to those involved, leaving only the small fry still standing, and not many of those after the Feds finished their sweeps.

'It's probably a mess' she decided, turning her attention to a small story about some gang killing in Lakefront's Chinatown. 'Dozen or two wanna be gang lords. All trying to build new gangs, carve out new territory. Most of the professionals dead or left for greener pastures. Lotta killings gonna be needed. Lot..." An odd sound caught her attention. Slowly folding her paper down she peered over its edge through the thickening fog, towards the ferry’s stern railing less than fifteen feet away.

She could barely make out the three figures who stood there. One looked to be a willowy blond in an expensive dress. Young. Too young to be out on deck with only a single male to protect her, to old to be told what to do. Beside her stood a tall, well built man in a suit that had to cost a couple of C notes, though she could not make out either’s features from her position. An obviously much older, Chinese dressed man faced her. Some vagary of fog and like abruptly highlighted his features like a photograph. Yes, Chinese certainly. But it wasn't her business, and this certainly wasn’t her territory. Best to keep out of this if she wanted to keep on breathing. Only a fool crossed the Chinese on their own territory, and as far as the Irish woman was concerned, all ships on the Great lakes were their territory. Still, now that she had shown interest and captured the watchers attention there was no reason not to pay attention. As a potential witness she'd be a target, so somehow she would have to make it known to the winner that she could, and would keep her own mouth shut.

"No more Fong. Not a damn cent" the tall man growled. Kathleen noted his right fist appeared clawed, beginning to ball as his anger grew. "I've paid your loan off twice over. The wells dry." His words told her which side to take as if he’d autographed his stupidity.

"There is final payment. Twenty thousand. Due tomorrow" the older man whispered. His accent tagged him as old Chinese. "You pay on time?"

"Twenty... That's what I borrowed. I don't have that kind of money, not one me. Even if I did I wouldn't give it to the likes of you. Get a lawyer you old chink and we'll settle this in court!" A blade appeared in his hand then as though by magic as he spoke. Kathleen sighed and reached under her skirt. Drawing her weapon she pulled its slide back, letting it snap forward harshly in the relative quiet. Its metallic sound cut through the fog like the knife in the young mans hand. Turning to face her the knifeman looked at the black mass pointed at him, all three really seeing her for the first time. Kathleen shook her weapon side to side, then pointed it towards his blade. With a curse he threw the weapon overboard. Satisfied now that both sides were probably equal, she set the safety on her weapon, leaving the round chambered as she replaced it into its custom holster. Finally, as if she were bored of the whole thing, Kathleen pointedly returned to her paper.

Fong said something next, but the ferry's bow mounted fog horn erased his words. Kathleen had gotten used to the mournful sound, as every five minutes it sounded to warn other ships where the ferry was.. Before her hearing fully returned the two were already arguing, she knew from the younger mans stance that it would come to blows. 'Pay him' she thought, noticing shadows appearing from around both sides of the ship. 'Promise him anything, give him anything, even the girl. Or your dead.' But the proud angry young man couldn't hear her thoughts. Instead he took a swing, his arm pulling far back, telegraphing a blow any child could avoid.

Fong didn't move. He simply waited until the bone crushing blow descended. Only then did he twist his body away from that fist. There was a loud snap as the arm shattered. Another unseen move and Fong stood over an unconscious body. Shadows moved forward as the woman started to scream. A hand covered her mouth, holding her several minutes, until realizing she was helpless she calmed down. Again interested Kathleen lowered her paper, folding it with a sharp snap, telegraphing to all who watched that she was fully aware of events.

“You have money” Fong asked the girl. She shook her head no, staring down at her companion on the deck.

“Can get money” Fong asked politely. Abruptly the hand vanished, allowing the girl to talk.

“Robert spent all he had. Most of what I had. I have some, in my bank. Not quite half of what you want. I will have much much more later, a trust fund. But I cannot get it until I am twenty-one. It is a trust fund” she repeated.

“Your are now” Fong asked softly.

“Nineteen, next week” the girl admitted. “He is my brother.”

“That too is unfortunate.” Some kind of signal passed between Fong and the two behind the girl. A dark cloth bag suddenly went over her head. Before she could scream one of those shadows struck her. Amused Kathleen waited, watching as the unconscious woman vanished into a swirl of shadows, then later as the fog horn bellowed again, the unconscious man too vanished. His body going over the rail, down eventually into churning blades that would leave nothing but fish food. Snapping up her paper she started reading again.

"You did not try to help him?" a gentle voice asked a few moments later.

Fong she decided. "Wasn't my business." she answered as she lowered her paper again, folding it carefully before setting it on her lap, thus making her weapon almost impossible to get too quickly. It was a move not missed by those standing before her. Fong had to be eighty she decided. Two young men stood to each side of him, his bodyguards obviously. "Selling the woman, or getting payment from daddy?"

Fong flickered his fingers and his men vanished. Moving slowly he sat on a chair beside Kathleen, noting she did not flinch at his closeness. "Young ones. They do not understand business any more. Her father has no money. Her brother a wastrel. It is too long a wait for her money. She is not worth a tenth that amount. Such a waste."

"Rough" Kathleen agreed, tapping her paper. "Live and learn."

"Or do not live long" Fong added. "You are going to live Lakefront?" He failed to mention her slight assistance in evening the odds. Not that it would have mattered she'd decided, not the way he had handled events.

"That's where this boats headed. I’m almost broke so I guess so. You?"

"I have family business there, a wedding. Then back home to Los Angeles." He stretched, bones popping. "She will make an excellent addition to my grandsons collection. Perhaps she will survive long enough to repay her brothers debt. Perhaps not. It is unimportant. Unless you have an interest?"

"Sorry, she's cute yes. But I'm not attracted to peroxide blonds. Even if I was, I've nothing like twenty grand and I'd not like to be in debt to you. Like I said, its none of my business."

Fong blinked, seemed to think for a moment. Then, slowly, as if in great pain he stood. "Perhaps, when you feel you need work, you might see my granddaughter. She needs the help of one with your skill. Her card." He held out a small business card which Kathleen took, holding the pasteboard gently.

"Thank you sir. Perhaps I shall. Good night Mr. Fong."

"Good night.. Mrs Grey." He left her sitting, watching him. She was stunned, she hadn't said who she was and she was traveling under stolen identification. Even her hair and eyebrows were temporarily dyed black. Certainly she was known in New York, but this was the Great Lakes. So how did he know? Her letter to Lucky Louie could not have reached the Boss Man as yet. With Fong knowing, that meant others may too. How long would she really have before the visit occurred. Kathleen wanted two months before her neck opened to spill her own blood. At this rate she would be lucky to see the next sunrise. She was still trying to figure it out three hours later when the ship docked.