Ray Marconi and the Dame

Midnight - the time when bad things happen to good people. Ray Marconi reached into the inner pocket of his raincoat and pulled out a cigar. He looked up at the darkened window before lighting it. As he inhaled he wondered why he had taken this case.

"This guy is followin' me." The curvy blonde must have been followed by a lot of guys in her time, but this one wasn't interested in a relationship. "I've seen him watchin' me." Ray quite liked watching her too as she sashayed away.

Now he was watching the watcher. What was this guy's game? He pulled his collar up and his trilby down as the drizzle turned to a downpour. Nobody goes out on a night like this. He thought about the bottle of bourbon waiting in his office, felt the warmth of it running through his body.

What was the dame doing tonight? Not something to interest this guy for certain. The lights went out just after ten, but not before he had seen the shadows. The guy was entertaining.

The scream was followed by breaking glass and a body hitting the ground hard. What little light entered the alley showed the body to be male. Windows illuminated as neighbours were alerted to events. The cops would be here soon. Ray lit another match to check. It was his guy.

"You gotta help me." The blonde ran into Ray's arms. "I didn't mean to kill him, honest." So what was his client doing in the guy's bedroom? He acted fast; pulled the girl into a yard, then up a fire escape to the roof.

"Talk," he demanded. The girl was shaking. "I said talk, damn you. Why were you in the guy's bedroom?"

"He was blackmailing me. Said he'd tell my boss I was rippin' him off if I didn't sleep with him."

"And were you?"

"Well, ye, sort of. Hey I earned it. The things I did for the guy." The cops were arriving. Ray grabbed her hand and dragged her over the rooftops. They came back to street level just in time to jump in a passing cab.

"Now tell me about your boss and the things you did for him." It was an age old story. Get the girl to love him, then get her to 'love' his friends; for a consideration of course. "And who's the guy who accidentally hit the concrete?"

"His name's Vince, works for the boss. Chancer type, y'know. Thought he could get a cut of the action. I only pocketed a small percentage of the take. He swore I'd had thousands; at least that's what he planned to tell the boss if I didn't play ball."

"And how did he fall?

"It's what he wanted, stuff I just don't do. I got off the bed and told him to shove it, tell the boss. He grabbed me, tried to do it regardless, so I pushed him away. He hit the window and the rest you know."

Ray took her to a friend's place. His office would not be safe. "Miss Lavell here is in a little trouble."

"Police or ..."

"Both." Maureen had looked after Ray's clients before. She knew the risks, but the woman loved him, poor fool. Ray needed to talk to his police connection if he was gonna keep her safe. He found a phone booth and dialled the number that was imprinted on his brain.

"Will she talk?" This particular cop was only interested in information to put away the bad guys. Give him what he wants and he'll guard you with his life.

When Ray got back to Maureen's he knew it was too late. Blue lights surrounded the place. Either the girl was being arrested or ...

The body bags told him the answer. He looked up at the window of Maureen's apartment. A curtain moved slightly in that window one last time.

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