The Scorpion and the Shattered Mol

The cops came to Charlie’s Jazz Bar afterhours. The call: a break in. I planned to sit back in my Marmon and keep a watch, let the cops handle it, but shots rang out; the long, steady spray of a Thompson submachine gun. The police were returning fire with their pistols–so much for sitting.

     I floored the Marmon toward the firefight. There in the alley was Classy Frank Bede, wearing his trademark cocky smile. Even now, cornered by the cops and with his Tommy Gun screaming like a banshee, he was smiling. I pointed the 55 hundred pound auto down the narrow alley at the gangster and sped past the cops. Classy dove for cover. He made it.  While he recovered himself, the police all moved in on him. Classy was caught.

     I ground the auto to a stop, and moved into the alley entrance of the Jazz bar. Twin Tokarevs in my hands, I was following instinct. Fact: Bede was keeping time with a cocktail waitress from Charlie’s, a femme fatal, by the name of Li Fang Li. Fact: Classy Frank Bede was involved in a shootout in West Osgood, four days ago; three dead; Bede missing and wanted. Fact: The police have been looking hard for the grinning gangster but he could not be found. Fact: Li Fang Li makes bad decisions.

     “Li.” I called out flatly. She didn’t know me, at least not as the masked vigilante, the Scorpion. I heard sobbing.  She came around the corner with a shotgun in her hands. I locked my guns on her.
     “Don’t raise that gun Li.” She was shaken bad. She had bruises and black eyes. Bede worked her over, and good. No telling why. A bum like him usually doesn’t have a reason.

  “Did you kill him?” She peered through her mascara-smeared, tear-streaked eyes.

     “No. Cops have him.”  

     “You shoulda killed him,” she seemed distant…manic.

     “Maybe. Put the gun down.” She did.

     “He’ll be back, you know.” She continued, “And he’ll be mad–really mad.”

     After the police, finished in the ally, they moved inside. I looked at Officer Kirkpatrick, whose eye was moving between the Shotgun on the floor and Li.

     “Bede took her hostage and made her hide him out,” I volunteered. Li needed a break.

     “Is that right?” Kirkpatrick looked at Li, who nodded in reply, while pushing a strand of black hair back into place.

     The police let me go and omitted me from their reports. One good turn deserves another.

     That was over a week ago. Li and Officer Kirkpatrick started keeping company together. Last time I saw her she was hiding her eyes under dark glasses. Looks like she traded one bruno for another.

     Classy Frank Bede, managed to make bail on his charges. He was gunned down by an anonymous attacker. Kirkpatrick was forced to resign a day later.

With enough money, you can buy your way outta anything in Rotwang City…anything, except a bullet.