I was sitting on the desk in the dimly lit office, gazing out the window in the moonlight when he walked in, a tall, dark and nearly handsome man; the sort that looked good in the shades and shadows of day. He stepped in then stepped out looking on the door.
"I must have the wrong place." The stranger said looking around the my spacious room. "I'm looking for Sam Stone."
"You got her."
"But you're a woman..."
"Thanks for noticing. Now are you gonna state your business or just stand there, staring at me."
He stepped in with hesitation – I could see in his eyes that he was ready to bolt. He looked nervous and with all that tension wrapped around his frame I made sure to keep a cool head. I struck a match and lit my cigarette. I sat quietly and waited for him to speak. I leaned on the desk with one hand behind to be sure that my revolver was close – I didn't want any surprises and neither did he from the way he looked.
"My friend said there was a detective here at this address that could help me and I find you, no offense."
"None taken. This friend got a name?"
"Yeah, several...but the one he uses most is Wes."
"Wes what?"
"Wes Undershaw."
"Hm."
Yeah I knew the creep. He was the kind of man that was in to fast cash and fast women, the kind that didn't like taking no for an answer. The kind of man that found trouble with the dames and the men of those dames, every single one. Worse than a snake oil salesman, always talking fast about some scheme he was working on.
"Listen lady, I need Sam Stone – where is he?"
"I said you found her. Sam Stone, P.I." I gave a flourish of my hand holding the cigarette.
"I'm in for it! You understand, I got men trying to kill me and you're playing games." He took a step forward with his arms out to grab me and was met with my pistol under his chin, right at the soft spot near his jugular. I dropped my cigarette.
"You touch me and I'll paint the ceiling with your brains."
"Listen I obviously have the wrong office, just let me go and I'll leave you alone forever."
"Promise?"
"Yes, scouts honor!"
I backed him up slowly to the door.
"Is this necessary, please, just let me go."
"I'm letting you go. Take a full step back."
The stranger took a step backwards; he was out in the hall when two thugs took the flight of stairs leading to the upstairs apartments. Shots were fired and I pulled the big lug back in.
"Friends of yours?"
"NO! They followed me. You gotta help me, please."
"You came here with your drama, didn't you know they were following you?
"I didn't, please, help me!"
"Go out the back – use the window."
The window? We're six stories up!"
"If you wanna live, go out the window."
I fired shots back, one was hit in the arm and the other was ducking behind his friend. The coward. I closed the door, locked it then ran across the room. I doubled back for my pocket book and made my way to the window. Their mark was down on the street waiting in the alley while I ran down the steep steel stairs, in heels. Every few steps the tips of my heels would get stuck in the holes of the grid when I stopped to fire intermittent shots upward so I took them off and threw them down. I could hear gunshots and glass breaking above me, I hurried down as quick as I could. I dropped my purse to the ground to maneuver those damned steps a little easier.
I made it to the bottom where the slide ladder was, stood on it then slid down. I climbed down as far as I could and had to hang with my hands on the bottom rung then released. I fell right into the strangers arms. Shots went out towards us. He ran down the alley a ways then hid behind the rubbish cans – with my shoes! I fired shots back hitting one of the gunmen in the hip. I grabbed my handbag and then ran to get out of the shooter's distance.
"Wait. Wait, that's not how I remember it."
"Hush up. I'm almost at the good part."
"I never ran away with your shoes! I was just holding on to them, to keep you from falling on them."
"He ran away with my shoes."
"Continue this nonsense so we can go please."
I was out of the gunman's reach. All that he could do was shout obscenities at me while he whined over the shot he took in the arm in the hallway. Then he shouted my name.
"Sam Stone...you're on my list!"
It was then that he believed me.
"You really are Sam Stone?"
"The one and only, you gonna stand there coddling my shoes and get an autograph or what?"
"Oh. Here you go Ms. Stone."
"Who in the hell are you and what did you do?
He paced the alley rubbing his short dark wavy hair.
"I ain't did nothing – you gotta believe me."
"All this talk of me having to do stuff for you doesn't fly with me, especially when I don't even know your name."
"Right, name's Anthony...Anthony Thompson but folks round here call me Tony."
"What does De Blasio's boys want with you? Huh? They don 't just go after anyone – you're marked."
I looked him up and down while putting my shoes back on. Walked a circle around him and decided to split.
"Wait, aren't you going to help me."
"I don't want any part of you Tony, its best you leave town and lay low for a while. Change your name and your attitude – it's the best thing you can do for yourself."
"They know your name too Sam! What are you gonna do?
"I can take care of myself."
Sure I could. It wasn't my first rodeo nor would it be my last. At one point in time I had the Capone family after me for drawing light on his racketeering. The press had a field day. It's not every day a man gets to be his own P.R. and I don't doubt that he ate up the attention – but like every good fella in the city, things were meant to be silent and I was the noise maker. One of the many reason I stopped working with the P.D. – you want the right one watching your back when the soup gets thick, you know?
"Um hm! That's truth and I had the best P.I. on the case."
"First of all, you still didn't believe I was the P.I. you were looking for, you kept insisting that I was standing in for a husband I didn't have. And then when it was pointed out to you that I was in fact who I said I was – you accused me of misrepresenting myself falsely by using the name Sam."
"Because your name is Samantha! Sam and Samantha are two totally different names."
"No, they aren't- one is a derivative of the other. You get it don't'cha?"
"Just tell the story will ya..."
We made it to Chuckie O's with little to no incident, meaning, he talked the whole way there. I had to hush him up so I could think. I needed an answer too tall wouldn't have and it had to come from someone just as close as he was.
"What did you do Anthony and don't tell me you didn't do a thing. You're already guilty."
"What? How can you say that? It's what I refused to do."
"Spill the beans!"
"I refused to go on the take- I work at the bank in downtown Chicago. They came in wanting me to transfer funds into De Blasio's account."
"So...that's your job."
"No, not the way they wanted me to do it. They wanted me to take from Kelly's Orphanage fund. I refused. See, I didn't do anything."
"We'll see about that. In the meantime, I need to catch up with your pal Wes."
"Oh...he'll be at Charlie O's ."
"I figured as much."
"I know all types of things about him just ask me!"
"Right now I need you to pipe down so I can think."
"Oh, sorry Ms. Samantha."
"Sam."
The place was a full scale riot. Everyone who was anyone was there – including the man I wanted to see. He was sitting near the back with table full of women, boozing it up and lying about his future. If he played the part I think he played in all this, he had no future.
As creeps go, he was one for the books. In love with every woman he saw, never met a drink he didn't like and always had a foot in someone's deal and one in the grave– whether it profited him or not. Said that it was his way of keeping his ear to the ground only, you had to read between the lines with his info, if he bothered to give it to you.
"Yes ladies...just call me 411. Whatever you need I got. Especially for you beautiful."
He slid his hand up a dancer's skirt then made to kiss her when she held him up in his quest.
"Na-uh honey, you promised me dinner and a fur coat."
"It's all yours baby, just let daddy snuggle with his favorite doll for a little while."
Many of the women scattered when they saw me walking up. My guns were holstered beneath the jacket of my navy blue two-piece.
"Yeah, "daddy" – why don't you let the beauty go so we can have a chat."
"Hey, look who it – it's Sam Stone."
"Why don't you say it a little louder, not sure the men at the back heard you. Beauty is it, I need this man's ear – why don't go you have a drink on me." I eyed Chuckie at the bar and made sure she got what I promised her. Meanwhile, oil on two legs tried to slip away. I placed my hand on his shoulder and sat him down.
He didn't look well, too much alcohol and hard living was beginning to catch up with him. No longer that doe eyed kid I once knew – "Wes" was something different now.
"Good old "Wes"-tern Union. I've got a bone to pick with you."
"I told him not to tell you I sent him, shit! What is it, huh? You busting my chops? You're not even a cop anymore."
"Never mind what I am and what I'm not. What's with you sending me a mob's mark. You got in for me?"
"Nothing like that...he needed help and I knew you'd help him."
"What's it to you if he gets my help or not?"
"Nothing. Nothing, just wanted to help the guy outta his particular predicament is all."
"And you figured, I'd be his best bet."
"Yeah, that's it."
I sat still to think over what I'd just heard. Something was bugging me. He knew something, I could feel it in my gut and I had to get it out of him. So I pushed a little harder.
"You know, I heard some talk a while back about a deal gone wrong with your name all over it. You mind letting me know what really happened?"
"Oh, that...small chips compared to what I got brewing now. The whole south side will be as rich as the Rockerfellas – all on a count of me."
"How so?"
"Bugsy cooked up a mean stew with us coming out like heroes."
"A bunch of Robin Hoods no doubt."
"Yeah, only we're gonna be on the rich end of the stick – got me?"
"Yeah, I got'cha."
Just a little bit more.
"I got DeBlasio on the ground floor of this – where do you fit in?"
"Right where I need to. Soon the city will be mine for the taking. We're all poor slobs working to stay alive but if this deal goes down and goes down right – being outta working stiffs will be a thing of the past."
He was nice and loose now, all I had to do was keep him lubricated. What's a few drinks between old friends.
So I watered him. I fed him booze and my opened ears to spill it all into. Several deals were going on 'round midnight in the city – all tied together and my "friend" was a mark because he knew too much. Everyone from the bank manager to the actual Western Union clerk was in on it. By the end of the night fireworks were sure to go off and I meant to be somewhere getting a bird's eye view.
"Time's up."
"But we haven't even told them about the bank robbery, or where Satin Doll comes into all of this, about how Wes gave us the slip at midnight and how I punched DeBlasio's lights out."
"You didn't do that!"
"I wanted to."
"Well then, they'll just have to tune in next time won't they?"
"I guess so....hey honey, admit it – those were some of the best times we had and you had a thing for me then didn't you."
"Oh, brother."