Lakefront and Mrs. Grey

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Chapter Thirteen

New York

Kathleen carefully closed and locked the company safe before she left work. What with salaries paid, there was less than ten dollars cash left. Not counting the change for the register. That was kept in a different safe. One even the owner didn’t have a key for. She looked around the tiny office, realizing that she had become used to it already. It had been hers. Her little Kingdom in the world. Now? Now New York waited, and her punishment for her husbands actions. Kathleen held no hope of surviving, she just hoped that she wouldn’t start begging before it was over. She had her reputation to keep up after all.

Stepping out of the tiny office she locked her door, then turned for the back door. The servants door came a thought in her mind. Her people had been servants and property to the English for several hundred years, their country itself enslaved. For much longer than the blacks had ever been slaves to those yellow hearted bastard’s. She found Pat waiting at the back door. “Good, need tah leave these with yah” she told the waiting woman, placing her office and backdoor key in Pat’s hand. “Ben nic knowin yah.”

She started to leave, only to have Pat grab her arm, turning her so they faced. “I’ve enough money fer two. Tah Los Angeles” the Scotswoman said.

“Ahn noh enough tah eat on when we goh there. Noh Pat. Not yah. Ahm noh gonna drag yah into this. Noh this.”

“Then drop your stupid accent and kiss me” Pat demanded. That Kathleen gladly did, and more.

Midnight found Kathleen stepping out of a taxi in the warehouse area. A scent of water, oil and dead fish heavy in the moist air. “You sure dis is dah place sister” the driver asked.

She looked up at the old warehouse, checking the number on its corner. Only then giving the driver a smile as she dropped a five spot in his lap. “Yes. This is the right address. Thank you.”

“You says so” the driver answered. She listened as he shut off his ticker, then drove away. A five spot, for a trip that should have cost a buck and a quarter. Both of them knew what was going on. He wouldn’t be picking her up from here. No, maybe a meat wagon, if anything was left to find. But no taxi. His last words as he drove away had been the beginning of a prayer. Not that God looked upon her kind any more.

She walked towards an open door, her low heels making a sharp klick on the brick road. It was taking everything Kathleen had to keep her from running. New York was waiting. By now they knew everyone she knew. Unless she wanted to read of half a dozen messy deaths, she would have to go through with this. Not that it would matter. She could run to China, and someone would one morning find her gutted body laying in a ditch. It was simply a matter of time, and she didn’t like to live in this kind of fear. Get it over with, that was all that kept her going. Even though she wanted to do nothing but run.

There was a key in the door, as she had expected. Closing the door behind her she used the key to lock that portal, then carrying the heavy brass key in one hand she walked towards the only light within the building. It was a long walk, the entire length of the building. There she found a long table, with three men standing behind it. A single light glowed down, putting everyone into a bright pool of light.

Looking to the man on her right she nodded in greeting. “Been a while Roger” she said. “How’s the foot?”

“Still hurtin little” the gunsul answered. “Doc says nother week.” His hand though never drifted from his holster.

“That’s good to hear. I know Sandy is waiting to go dancing again.” She turned to the man on her left, again nodding in greeting. “Lefty. You still losing in poker?”

“Yeah. Never learn will ah” the bearded man agreed.

Settled with the two gunmen, men she’d known for years Kathleen raised her hand, dropping the brass key. It rang as it hit the table. Her purse followed. “Guns in the purse, better search me now.” Lefty was the one who moved to preform that task. He was a knife man, never carried a gun. After a careful search he returned to his place. “Nothin boss” he reported, returning to his place.

Kathleen smiled at the third man. “Phillip. Its been a long time. Why were you sent? Because we used to be lovers?”

“Probably” the third man agreed. His voice carried no trace of accent, exactly as Kathleen’s. When she didn’t want to that was. In Phillip’s case it was breeding and education. In Kathleen’s, practice. “I would not put it past our employer. Lucky Louie has that sense of humor.”

Kathleen allowed herself a tiny smile. “Yeah. He does. So, did you find Tommy?”

Phillip nodded yes. “Within two hundred feet of where he jumped. Fool broke both his legs. He was ice cold when we found him, still holding that case.” He lit a cigarette, puffing a moment. “Every missing penny was still in it, but Tommy being dead upset poor Doctor Gisborn. You know how he gets.”

Kathleen visibly shivered, she indeed did know how the white haired old man ‘got’ when something went wrong. “All right Phillip. You just scared me into peeing my dress. You’ve had your fun, so lets get this over with.”

Concern filled the mans face. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to frighten you.” He nodded to Roger, who vanished from the pool of light. “Lucky sends you two messages” he continued. “By the way, do we undress you, or will you do it? You know how the good doctor hates his toys to be dressed.”

“I’ll do it” she agreed, though it was one of the last things she wanted to do. As she undressed Phillip continued talking.

“Louie was really grateful that you turned on Tommy” Phillip continued. “That much money, you could have gone anywhere. It might have taken years to find you.”

“And you still would have” Kathleen admitted. “It would just be worse. Adding the years of fear. No, I’m done. I know it. I was just hoping for a bullet. Fast, clean.”

After a while Phillip stood, walking around the table to stand near Kathleen. “Your still a fine woman. Did Tommy ever know?” He reached out, placing a hand on the Irish woman’s now naked stomach.

“No. If he did one of us would have been dead long ago” she admitted. “Gods truth Phil, your worst was better than his best.” She lifted a foot, removing her last stocking. “Now can we get this over with? I’m tired.”

Phillip let his hand wander her body. “Memory, what you were once” he admitted. “What we once were.” Then he looked behind her. “Hello Doc. She’s ready.”

Kathleen turned around to face her killer. She felt Phillip’s hand wander further as she did so. Before her stood anyone’s grandfather. A sixty some odd year old man who had probably killed more people that she had, and that was saying something. “Hello Doc” she said in greeting. “Do your best, I deserve it.”

Doc Gisbon stopped a few feet away from Kathleen, studying her. After a few minutes he made a motion with one hand. Understanding, she turned around. Sometime later he walked around her, patting the table. Releasing a breath she hadn’t realized that she was holding Kathleen made her way to the table, sat, then laid down.

“No crying, no begging?” the elderly man asked. She heard him open his case as he talked.

“Honest Doc? I’m scared out of my mind. But its this, or worse later.” She lifted her arms over her head. Since Roger was busy tying her feet to the table, it had to be Lefty tying her arms. At the moment Phillip was standing in her sight. She looked into her one time lovers eyes. “A gag? Please?”

“Yeah. If you need it” he agreed. “Louie’s first message. ‘You did damn good. I’m proud.’” He looked over to where the Doctor was working, somewhere outside of Kathleen’s sight. “It’s a message you know. People have to know. They cross Louie, even their families pay. Nothing personal, and your still a damn fine woman Kat.”

“Yeah, I understan” she replied. Stress was taking control of her emotions, she was waiting for the first bright blossom of pain. A flash of light was her first warning that photographs were being taken. It was embarrassing, but it did take the edge off.

“Louie wants to know. What are you up to here?” Phillip asked. His hand was where it hadn’t been in months, causing her to grit her teeth.

“Thought I might start my own little group” she admitted. “That furniture store. Take it over, work with the Chinese. They have certain imports, and a need for legal above board markets. Win win.”

“Irish? Working with chinks? Why” Phillip asked.

“Unusual. Feds wouldn’t be looking for it.” Gisbon’s fingers touched her left arm, causing her to flinch.

“Most are begging by now dear” Gisbon said softly. “You make me proud to be your friend. I promise, you will have my best work.”

“I’ll try tah keep up wit yah” Kathleen answered, closing her eyes. Why hadn’t they cut them open already, removed her eyelids she wondered. Why were they letting her close her eyes? Then something broke into her thoughts, even as more flashes announced further photographs. “These for show?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. For show” Phillip answered. “Do you really think that you could do it, up here? This place is a madhouse. No ones in charge and everyone wants in. Everyone wants to be the big boss. It will be a slaughterhouse.”

Kathleen managed a shrug. “It would have been fun to try. I did pay attention to how Louie did things. Start small, keep a low profile..” She hissed as something entered her arm. “Starting Doc?” she asked.

“Oh yes, quite” the old man answered. “I forgot to warn you. Silly of me. You have such beautiful soft skin.”

“Be careful and you can save enough to cover your next book” she joked, though it really wasn’t a joke. She had seen his library.

“You were saying” Phillip continued. Prompting Kathleen.

“Yeah.” A burning sensation was slowly going up her arm, she wondered what Doc was doing. He never used anything but knives and picks. “Low profile. Let the wolfs sort out things between them. Then start picking off the lill dogs one bah one. Buh stop before yer too noticeable.” She pushed the pain away, it wasn’t that bad yet but those flashbulbs were driving her crazy. “Wanna bet how long ah can last afore ah start beggin?” she asked.

“No” Phillip answered. “You think you can do that? Here?”

“Yeah, could have” Kathleen answered. “Maybe. Would’ah been fun tryin.”

An abrupt tug against her arm caused her to look up, though she couldn’t see anything. Then something pressed against her arm, she could feel the warmth of dripping blood. “Gonna bleed me dry like yah did Maxine” she asked.

A sealed glass bottle was held in her sight. A pint bottle. One filled with ruby red fluid. Her blood she knew. “How many” she asked, all emotion gone from her voice. Another flash fired, but she ignored it. Being bled to death was a lot less painful that any other way. She remembered how Maxine had slowly calmed, then fallen into that endless sleep. But she couldn’t remember how many bottles.

“Six quarts Katty” the doctor answered. “Four pints to the quart. That’s twenty-four pints. A pound a pint. Twenty-four pounds.”

Kathleen managed a soft chuckle. “Well Doc, I could use to lose that much weight. Shall we continue?”

“We’re done here Kat” Phillip announced. He made a motion with one hand and Roger appeared at her feet, reaching down to untie her. “Louie said a pound of flesh. He’d settle for blood. That’s all. If you’d fought, it’d been a broken arm next. Your gutsier that me Kat. I give you that. I couldn’t just walk in like that. Not knowing that Doc was waiting. I’d shoot myself first.”

“I thought about it” she admitted. “Couldn’t. Didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger. I really am going to live?” She felt her hands come free, and drew her arms forward. There was a bandage on her left arm, just below the elbow. Moving slowly she sat up. “I’m going tah live?” she asked again.

“Louie’s second message” Phillip said in answer. “Never come back to New York again. Not even passing through. I’d take that advice.”

“So will I” Kathleen agreed. That message had answered her question. She was going to live. She indicated her clothing, carefully folded on a wooden crate. “Can I dress now?”

Phillip laughed. “I don’t know Kat. I’ve always liked you like this.” He looked at the woman sitting on a table, the kind of table no one had ever gotten up from before. “Your lucky Kay. Damn lucky. If we hadn’t found the money...”

Kathleen closed her eyes, images running through her mind. “I’d be dog food. Yeah, I know. So can I get dressed now?”

“You have a way home?” he asked first.

She looked at him, knowing why he was stretching out that answer. They would never meet again, and both of them knew it. “Guess I can call a taxi, if one will come out here this time of night.”

Phillip shook his head no. “Get dressed Kat. We’ll drop you off. Its not that far off our route and the ferry doesn’t leave until sunup.”

Doctor Gisbon closed his case. “Katty” he said. “My granddaughter. She needs a place. Away from New York. Your going to need someone like her. Can I send her to you?”

“She any good?” Kathleen asked, picking up her purse with her right hand.

“I trained her Katty. She’s as good as I am. Maybe better” Gisbon answered.

“Send her then. Whats her name?”

Gisbon smiled. “Angel. Her mother named her. Her last words before she died. I call her Dark Angel.”

“Okay” Kathleen agreed. “I’ll find a job fer her, until I need her real talents. And Doc? If you ever have to really do me? Give me your best. Promise?”

“I promise. But I will not enjoy it. That is the truth. I like you Katty, you’ve always been kind.” He indicated the table. “And you’re the first one not to beg, curse or just cry. You have strength, and I think you’re gonna need it.”

Kathleen leaned over, kissing the old mans balding head. “Yeah Doc. I’m gonna need it. I’ll be waitin for Angel. I’ll take good care of her. I promise.”

Thus it was that Kathleen was released, at the front door of her apartment building. Making her way upstairs she found Su Lin waiting for her.

“You live” the Chinese girl said in poor Irish.

“Lucky” Kathleen answered. “Tired.” She made the way to their shared bed, collapsing before more than stepping out of her shoes. She never felt the Chinese girl undress her, or slip her under the covers. Not even when she joined her, pressing herself hard against the shivering Irish woman.