Guns Are For Show

Guns Are For Show - Part 4

Guns Are For Show 

by sloanranger

Part 4

"He might be in Lieutenant, he had a meeting earlier. He usually stops by before home - you know, since uh, Mrs. Lally took off."

"Right. Run upstairs quick, Skatowski. Tell him we have a delicate situation on our hands, then re-route Hardiman and the women."

Five minutes later, the Sergeant was taking Mrs O'Malley upstairs, explaining that the Captain himself was going to look into her problem. Her daughters would be brought up soon.

"Are you lying to me?" Ethel O'Malley squinted hard at the Sergeant. "Is he the guy in chah-ge? You been giving me the run-around since I got here."

"Lady, this is the guy." He knocked on the door. "Captain?"

"Come in," a voice resonated. As they entered, a fifty-ish man in full uniform came from around his desk. "And who might this dear lady be, Sergeant?"

"Mrs O'Malley, Captain. Believe I mentioned, Councilman Skiver's aunt?"

"Madam," the Captain beamed, "you hardly look old enough to be the aunt of a councilmember."

Not disarmed but appreciating the effort, Ethel O'Malley nodded, looking around the room. She noted a map of the city on one wall and a collection of knives in a display case on another.

"There appears to be some confusion regarding your daughters?" The Captain removed his coat.

"My doighters have been man-handled by your men, Captain. What are you gonna do about it?"

"May ask you your first name, Mrs. O'Malley?"

"Ethel."

"Ethel," the Captain repeated, looking far off. "Sounds like water tinkling doesn't it?"

"Watah?"

"Just a whimsy of mine; always thought names with L's in them had a water sound. Yours has two," he said.

"Too?"

"Two L's."

"Oh."

"My name is Lally - Captain Lewis Lally at your service." He continued: "Mr. O'Malley at home?"

"Mr. O'Malley," said Ethel, "Gawd-rest-his-soul, has been dead these nine years, now." She began fluffing stray hairs back into the bun on her head, her face softening "You've got a few L's yourself there, Lou," she noted.

"Lewis," he corrected, smiling.

The woman looked at the display case on the wall. "That's some collection of knives you got, Lewis."

"Yes, I've been collecting for years," he said.

Ethel's eyes lowered, noticing the large gun he had holstered against his leg.

"If I may say so - Lew-is," she enunciated the name, "that's a very impressive piece you're packing there, yourself." Her head nodded, indicating the pistol laying against his tight pants.

(To be continued).