Lakefront and Mrs. Grey

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Chapter Eleven

Taking care of Business

Kathleen watched as the young girl Aimee hurried towards the building she’d selected. A few offices still had their lights on and the note had said third floor. A modeling agency Kathleen’s note had mentioned. They had noted Aimee and wanted to talk to her about working for them, if she were available. With her message clutched firmly in her hand the young blond had blindly run into the trap.

There were no Chinese in this trap, in fact as far as Kathleen knew none within miles. Su Lin had looked upon Aimee and agreed. A trip to Big China, a private conversation between Su Lin and Ai Jing, a little haggling and they had ended with an agreed upon price. Subject to Kathleen delivering the goods without being seen. Kathleen had been surprised at the offered price. Not many girls were worth 1000 dollars upon delivery. Apparently there was a buyer who had left very specific instructions, and after training Aimee would fit his needs perfectly.

“You call, I send truck pick up package” Ai Jing explained. “Marked Hempsons, is dealer used office furniture. We have one of trucks. It was left in China Town many months ago. Empty.”

“Meaning someone owed and that’s how he paid” Kathleen countered light heartedly. “I will pick up the money tomorrow morning, after successful delivery and inspection by your people of the goods.” She stood, noting Su Lin following her actions. “MacGregor’s may be changing management soon. Those who may take over have an interest in dealing with legal Chinese goods. Household goods. Would it be advantageous to bring them here to talk, or should I look elsewhere?”

“Bring. We sell small profit” Ai Jing agreed. “Hard break in legit business outside China Town. Be good start. Moving goods new market. Allow Chinese move around city legal, not be noticed so much then.”

“I will know next Monday. When would it be best to speak with you again.”

Ai Jing thought about that. “You rushing” she realized. “Why?”

“Because New York arrives sometime in the next two days. I probably won’t see Thursday, but if I do, I will be here the rest of my life. I need honest business contacts Ai Jung. As well as not quite so honest contacts. And I need to keep off the police blotter. Even the private one.”

“Ah.” The Chinese woman sipped her drink. “So you pay debts much as can. I like you Kathleen Grey. I not like see you pass on. You useful. Important. You honest. Maybe Grandfather talk New York.”

“Lucky Louie hates you Chinese Ai Ling. You would waste your time and honestly, I do not like the idea of being in your debt. I have seen what happens to those who can not pay such. Better dead that someone’s toy doll.”

“Yes. For you yes. We will see. Then good day Mrs. Grey.”

That had been at lunch. Now it was nine pm and her first job was in action. Later she would deal with the hit she’d been paid for, but Aimee was first on her list. Did it bother Kathleen that she would soon be sending an innocent young girl into a lifetime of slavery and possible abuse? Yes, it did. But not as much as knowing that this one clumsy girl could help insure that her co-workers remained employed. One life stacked against almost fifty others. It was the same with Kathleen herself. She had never really enjoyed her profession, though she was very good at it. Especially when the target was English, or descended from the English. Had Tommy not dragged her from the que at immigration Kathleen would probably have had a rougher life, but a much more honest one. That was the past though, and let God judge her for her actions. The Irish woman was under no illusions as to her destination upon death. No illusions at all.

Aimee had arrived at an office who’s light was on, but a paper sign was affixed to the doors frosted glass. “Please wait. Will return in fifteen minutes.” She read the name on that door. Yes, it was a talent agency. One with a reputation, but nothing could happen to her here that hadn’t already happened at her last employment. She turned to a small bench in the hallway, preparing to sit when she herd the click of leather soles on linoleum.

“Mrs. Grey” she asked in surprise as Kathleen turned the corner.

“Aimee? So this is where you’ve run off too” Kathleen answered. “You have ah letter too? How wonderful.”

After pointedly reading the same sign, one she had placed there herself, Kathleen sat down. After a moment she patted the seat beside her. “Was sorry tah hear you were let go. For five records?”

“It wasn’t tha first” the blond admitted as she sat down to wait. “I was due. Ahm just so clumsy.”

Taking a hip flask from her purse Kathleen opened it. “Well here’s tah ah movie career. Briugh lights, fame ahn our names in lights.” She drank from the flask, or appeared to then offered it to Aimee.

“I really shouldn’t” the blond argued. “Mother says its tha root of all evil.”

“Nah. Close. Buh tha root o’ all evil is men. One small toast tah a future in tha lights?.”

“Men, yes. Okay then. One.” Accepting the flask Aimee drank, a bit more deeply than Kathleen had expected before returning it. “Patty and I used to be.. Well we were...”

“Lovers? She tol me.”

Aimee blushed deeply. “Yeah. Well things. They went South after ah had ah figh with her bout something stupid.” She yawned, covering it easily. “Long day ah guess. Been job lookin. Forgot wha it was. Tha reason we fought.” She yawned again, looked oddly at Kathleen as her eyes closed. Slowly she slipped sideways against the older woman.

Standing carefully Kathleen let the blond slide first to the bench, then heavily to the floor. Producing a knife she jimmied the doors latch, opening it, then taking down her note. Returning to Aimee she simply dragged the girl into the office, closing its door behind them. Inside was a heavy footlocker, a prop Kathleen had found used as a table. Opening it she had removed its contents, which turned out to have been mainly various articles of women’s clothing. On impulse she had carefully folded, then stacked them on the agents desk. There was plenty of time after all, no one would be here until at least until eleven. Undressing Aimee she carefully folded and stacked those clothes as well, dropping the girls purse into an over flowing trashcan, complete with the faked letter. A little over half an hour later Aimee, now bound, gagged and sealed in the locker, Kathleen picked up the nearest phone. Thirty minutes later a certain footlocker was en-route to a certain address in China Town. While she had waited Kathleen had carefully hidden that stack of clothing in the top of the offices coat closet. Let this agent be accused of Aimee’s vanishing.

Leaving the flask behind in one of the desks drawers Kathleen headed back to MacGregor’s. As Accountant she now had a key to the back door, though Patty was completely unaware of that fact. It had been in the safe, in a tiny drawer behind several records. It was now time to deal with her next target.

One disadvantage of almost every building on a block being five stories tall, was that a person could walk from building to building almost without ever leaving the roof. Now wearing a set of oversized coveralls she had borrowed from the basement, Kathleen made her way to a rooftop shed she had been told about. There, its weathered padlock hanging open, she found a bolt action rifle and three rounds. Taking the rifle she made her way to a point directly across from the local police station. That building was of grey stone and only three stories tall. Her target was on the third floor, four windows from the left most corner. Taking out a photograph she had found with her weapon Kathleen studied it. Her target window was carefully circled, impossible to mistake. Setting a brick on the photograph she made her way to the other side of the block. It was time to sight in her weapon.

She selected a darkened window on an opposite building, moving far enough back from the edge so that her weapons muzzle flash would not show. There were always gunshots at night. Parties, murders, people blowing off steam. Settling down on the gravel roof Kathleen took her time. Her first shot hit to the right and down. After careful adjustment and a ten minute wait she fired her second round. The pane she had aimed at shattered, but still a bit to the right. It would have to do. Anyway, she well knew how to correct that error.

Below her she could hear yelling, a police whistle sounded occasionally but it appeared more confused than anything else. Walking calmly back to her original position she settled down. Her target was a nervous middle aged smoker. It was only a matter of time after all.

Inside his cell a certain accountant sat on his bed, worrying about the future. Federal Agent Hammer had promised to move him to Hawaii. There he could get a job as an accountant and build a new life. All he had to do was go to court and tell all he knew. He knew from personal experience that none of the Mob went to Hawaii. They had their own criminal element. One not happy about an outsider trying to move in on their action. He would be safe there, as long as he kept a low profile, and from pictures he knew the native girls were very pretty. Having one or two of them share his life would be paradise enough.

He nodded in greetings to a police officer that came to check on him. There had been gunshots a block over. Nothing really important. The Police simply wanted to make certain that their prize package was untouched. Monday couldn’t come soon enough for the nervous man. Shaking slightly he pulled out a fag, slipping it between his lips. He wasn’t supposed to show a light at night, but how much trouble could a single smoke be? Besides, he’d done it all the time since getting here, and nothing had happened. Pulling out his zippo he lit up, dragging on the white cylinder with obvious pleasure before leaning back against the wall. Just after taking his third big drag on the rapidly vanishing tobacco a bullet tinked off one of his cells bars, tumbled, and slammed into his chest. He died on the way to a hospital, his chest turned into a shattered wreak by the tumbling high speed bullet.

While the police ran about in confusion Kathleen carefully, but quickly crawled back from her firing position until she was certain she could not be seen. Having the heights made it impossible for the police to get a shot off at her, even had they known where she was. Carefully salting her secondary position with used cigarettes (one still burning) and a crumpled Lucky Strike package, the Irish woman first made her way back to replace the weapon. Once it was in place she locked the well oiled padlock, then returned to MacGregor’s. Securing the steel roof access door behind her she made her way, with no real hurry, back down to the basement where she returned the overalls, washed carefully in the sink that was there and donned her selected dress. Finished, now certain that no one could suspect that she had been the assassin, Kathleen headed for the employee door. Having done this many times before she was in no way bothered by the hornets nest that she stepped into just outside the building.

Still her starched grey dress proved good camouflage. It was obvious that she hadn’t been crawling about on the roofs, and as there was no smell of gun smoke. So no one bothered to take a second look at her. She wasn’t even rounded up with ‘the usual suspects.’ But once she returned to her room Kathleen let of a long sigh of relief. Her target, who had turned out to be the missing MacGregor’s accountant, had proven a near impossible target. That was, until he leaned back and took a long drag on his cigarette. Her only worry had been that she would have hit one of the iron bars hard enough to damage or deflect her bullet. Then Lady Luck smiled upon her again, and that was beginning to worry her. Every since Tommy had left her in the lurch her luck had been good. It was almost as if she could do no wrong. Yet it couldn’t last. Well, if she survived New York’s visit she’d lay low for a while. Very low. Undressing she joined Su Lin in her bed. At least somer pleasure could be taken tonight.