The Ford continued to roar down the wet streets at high speed, throwing-up dirt in its wake as the increasingly uncomfortable Ness sat within its sweatbox like interior. Both Trunk and O’Donnell appeared to be quietly content on watching the poor new safety director squirm and suffer in the backseat as the irritable Ness decided to ignore them. The preoccupied Ness then recognised the area they were hastily travelling through as Kingsbury Run, a downtrodden area on the east side of Cleveland. The Ford tore through the rugged area, sometimes plunging to depths of sixty feet before sharply coming back up on the badly potholed and uneven tarmac road. This made Ness’s stomach turn uncomfortably as the Fords lights lit-up the scattered bushes, old rusty shacks that now served as homes, mountains of garbage and even the occasional skeletal remains of an abandoned automobile.
Along the edges of a ravine were ramshackle framed homes that were built closely together and of such a shabby construction that they seemed to almost be teetering on the brink of collapse. Many dim lights lit up the labyrinth of confusing streets that led deep within the area, so much so that it looked like some sort of endless maze that consisted of shadowy alleyways that one could easily find themselves lost within. As the ravine angled towards the downtown area, it emptied out into the muddy waters of the Cuyahoga River where concrete and steel bridges and old factory buildings dotted the riverbank with their numerous lights. Kingsbury Run was a forbidding and shunned place by reputation and among the refuse and decay there were small cities of homeless men, women and children whom had been forced into the godforsaken place by the blight of The Great Depression. They squatted together outside there self-made homes that they had uniquely crafted from the local scavenged materials of wood, metal and waste from the numerous factories nearby. The various inhabitants each huddled together to keep warm near their respective small campfires that dotted the unseen landscape as they all tried to ignore the lonesome cries of the multitude of freight trains that constantly passed by.
Upon seeing this depressing night time landscape for himself, and not feeling well due to the humidity and frantic up and down movements of the Ford, Ness now felt less optimistic about his new position. The depressingly blighted Kingsbury Run area just enhanced his trepidation and sour mood as mere pictures of the area’s poverty did not do it justice. He detested anything out of his control and Kingsbury Run looked somewhat akin to the ‘wild west’ rather than belonging to a first world cityscape. He knew this area would be a challenge even before he had reached the awaiting police department and the keenly sensitive Trunk then suddenly broke the infinite silence from within the Ford “What a shithole right Ness? Good thing we came through here at night Hehe! Bet you guys in Chicago don’t have this type of filth clogging up the streets there do you? Not to mention all the crime that comes along with it, right?”
Ness replied calmly and politely with a measured response that would have made a politician proud “All major cities have the unfortunately vulnerable weak area’s Mr Trunk, even the mighty Chicago is not immune to this blight of The Great Depression and poverty for that matter” Ness then smiled, knowing that his answer was fittingly appropriate for a man of his stature and intelligence. Trunk however just stared at him long and hard through the mirror, still analysing him and confirming his suspicions that he did not like the arrogant interloper. Trunk looked at O’Donnell for his impressions of the man but he was too busy driving through the badly worn out streets and heavily impoverished area as the rain started to come down harder, battering the roof of the old Ford. Trunk then spoke in a somewhat unpleasant tone of disgust as the Ford took a hard left “And here we have the “Roaring Third” area of Kingsbury Run sir. We have a somewhat ‘do not disturb’ kind of a mentality about this particular area due to its high crime rate. We thought we’d best show you this area briefly on the way, just so as you can see what we have to deal with”
Trunk smirked as he patiently waited for a response from Ness but it never came because Ness wanted the detective to squirm a little just like he had done for the entire uncomfortable trip so far. Trunk waited patiently but Ness was a now a man of few words and was simply monitoring the situation as the Ford limped on down the muddy streets of the blighted area of sorrow. Ness desired to reciprocate there ill manners that they had both shown towards him so far in this journey and by now he was only barley controlling his volatile temper as the heat became almost overwhelming. After a while Ness then grunted, to the relief of Trunk whom appeared to awaiting his approval of what he had just stated about the impoverished area that was now quickly disappearing behind them.
Trunk then spoke whilst he smirked and winked at O’Donnell “We never did understand here in Cleveland how those Italian goons run circles around your boys in Chicago? The er? “Untouchables” right? I mean we got Italians, Jews and Irish mobs active here and we get along with them just fine. We don’t bug them and they don’t bug us!” Ness was stunned at this rather rash comment and speculated that Trunk was either a simpleton whom was playing sick game with him or it was some sort of test because of how obviously uncomfortable he was within the unbearable heat. He took an eternity to calculate his answer and felt like he was jousting with the complicated Trunk but after a while of staring at the detectives piercing eyes within the mirror and attempting to judge his character, he finally decided upon a measured reply “Capone was complicated case with many man hours and agencies evolved and all the different agencies had to pool their resources together in order to catch him and his associates. One of these associates was his accountant and he sang like a canary to the I.R.S but only after he was put in a prison that was filled with cockroaches. You see the I.R.S knew that he was scared to death of them and so, if you think about it, cockroaches got Capone. Moral of the tale, pay your taxes and never underestimate a “cockroach”!” Ness emphasized this last word as he looked at Trunk intensely through the mirror and knowingly smiled as he saw the desired reaction to his convoluted insult.
His brief moment of his victory was then suddenly cut short as the hard rain violently lashed down upon the roof whilst the Ford took a hard right and aquaplaned slightly, causing the disgruntled Trunk to feel a little sick and voice his annoyance to O’Donnell “Jesus! Slow down for god’s sake!” O’Donnell silently apologised as an angry looking Trunk procrastinated about their new safety director within the back seat, whom was now laid back whilst fixing his tie with an aura of dissatisfaction oozing from his irritable face. Ness knew Trunk was acting like an animal, protecting his hunting ground and perceiving him as the threat, an outsider and possible trouble maker whom would rock the boat and potentially ruin whatever corruption enterprise he was currently involved in.
Ness then glanced at O’Donnell, whom had been covertly observing this verbal conflict between the two with immense interest for the last few minutes before O’Donnell broke off Ness’s uncomfortable gaze as he once again focused upon the rain soaked streets ahead. Ness then finally felt the opium slowly saturating his system and wondered if it would allow him to recall this interesting journey. Opium would occasionally make him forget things depending upon the dosage and he had become accustomed to planning for such eventualities but unpredictable events, such as what had transpired within the muggy Ford, had a bad habit of being forgotten. He hoped he would not forget this meeting with these two because he felt that he had bettered them and relished his superior intellect before he then looked out into the night as the rain continued its relentless assault upon the Ford.
He then noticed that both Trunk and O’Donnell had started talking amongst themselves about the troubled areas of the city, focusing on Kingsbury Run as the root cause for all the cities woes. Ness listened but did not ask any further questions, knowing that they were no longer analysing him and he could simply analysis this new environment he had arrived in. The fast Ford bellowed down the road and spewing-up mud as the sporadic suburbs quickly made way for the large buildings of the inner city, relaxing Ness as the lighting i
ncreased and the road’s tarmac got smoother. It also felt as though the heat of the humid night had subsided as the rain lessened due to the very large buildings that soon surrounded them on either side.
The inner city lighting revealed the true ugliness that lay underneath the blanket cover of darkness that shrouded it before. The lights showed the city’s true, uncompromising authenticity as drug dealers and prostitutes waited on every street corner for their regular patrons to arrive whilst drunken men violently fought each other in the just visible distance. Ness was alarmed by these visions of crime whereas his two travel companions where surprisingly undaunted, apparently undeterred in their primary mission to take him to his prechosen destination. Ness pondered this ugly truth for a minute before he rolled his eyes in satisfaction as the opium coursed through his awaiting system. He then placed his sweaty hand upon the silver opium pill case that was within his waistcoat pocket and relished the thought of taking another hit.
The Cleveland police department was slightly more impressive than Ness had expected as the Ford slowly rolled into the busy parking area. The impressively large parking area was filled with many dirty police bikes, fords and unsightly large wagons that had all seen better days in there long and distant past. As the Ford gently slowed down a disgruntled Trunk then finally spoke again after briefly contemplating Ness’s convoluted comparison of him with a cockroach “Well! Here we are ‘Sir’!” Ness surprisingly politely replied now that the opium was saturating his body and coursed through his eagerly awaiting system “Why thank you gentlemen! It’s been ‘enlightening’”
Ness’s pupils where now dilated with a comforting pleasure as he struggled to focus on the awaiting small contingency of smartly dressed police officers whom where apparently waiting to officially greet him. The welcoming group was flanked by haggling reporters and flashing cameras atop the steps of the police department headquarters but Ness no longer feared them now because of his drug’s natural ability to miraculously alleviate all anxieties. He was eager to leave the repressive shadowy interior of the uncomfortably stuffy Ford, as where his equally relieved travel companies whom where by now alarmed by the forthcoming camera flashes and eager to offload there troublesome passenger. He publicly disliked such events but privately he relished them because they inflated his now already overblown self-ego, which he lacked in droves if not for the opium that now permeated his system and gave him a renewed confidence.
As the Ford tentatively slowed down and Ness eagerly awaited for it to be stationary so that he could make his grand entrance, he immediately looked into the rear-view mirror to hastily re-adjusted his chaotic hair. An irritable Trunk and O’Donnell looked on as Ness sorted out his hair and accidentally elbowed them both during this intense personal self-grooming session because he knew that this would be his last opportunity to make himself look respectable before the cameras took numerous photographs of him. He even took the opportunity to quickly inspect his teeth because of the dreadful food that he had eaten on the train ride here, which consisted of an overly cooked spinach and parmesan pastry and his favourite poppy seed cakes. He was scared that they may take an unbecoming photograph of him with such food’s in-between his teeth which would take away from what otherwise would have been a good photograph. He also brushed his eyebrows to make sure that all the hairs where aligned in the right direction before yet again frantically parting his hair to ensure it was styled in the way that he liked it.
The irritable Trunk and O’Donnell watched on in amazement as the unrepentant, vain and secretly high Ness finalised his open self-grooming session with a pleasant smile and wink at them both. The Ford finally stopped and Ness’s door was immediately opened to reveal a young police officer whom was dressed in his best uniform. This view was also immediately accompanied by a blissfully refreshing rush of cool fresh air which effortlessly filtered into the stifling Ford, containing the gift of the alluring aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans that emanated from the impressively designed art deco building at the top of the stairs. Through the cacophony of noise then came the distinctively loud but shaky voice of the smartly dressed officer whom had been eagerly awaiting his arrival “Mr Ness!? Mr Eliot Ness!? It’s a pleasure to meet you sir!”
Ness then eagerly climbed out of the Ford to a flurry of activity and camera flashes as he noticed that the smartly dressed young officer was sporting a pair of ill-fitting, small and round spectacles that made his eyes appear to be exceedingly smaller than they actually where. The smartly dressed officer was desperately attempting to keep the throngs of people that where now surrounding Ness back as he uncomfortably introduced himself whilst receiving Ness’s inaugural prize of a sweaty handshake “So happy to meet sir! I’m officer Dick Dave Cowles and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you! If you’ll please follow me and I’ll show you around the department briefly before then taking you upstairs to see the awaiting Congressman Sweeney and Chief of Police Matowitz!” Ness smiled upon hearing this and kept his head lowered as a flurry of flashes erupted around him and suddenly made him feel nostalgic about his Chicago days.
The nervous Cowles then led him through the chaotic welcoming committee as Ness fantasized about tomorrow mornings imaginary newspaper headlines: ‘The Hero Eliot Ness Comes To Save Cleveland!, Eliot Ness The Untouchable!, A New Sheriff Rides In To Town To Clean Up Cleveland!’ All of these headlines suited him and would make fantastic additions to his already overflowing clippings collection for self-admiration. The bookish looking Cowles then hastily led him up the congested steps and into the art deco, coffee emanating Cleveland police department headquarters. The unfriendly Trunk and O’Donnell now felt like a bad memory until Ness suddenly realised that he had almost forgotten his trusty fedora hat from the back seat of the Ford and immediately spun around and pushed his way back past the unruly crowd of press that now surrounded him.
He rushed back to the stationary Ford and hastily opened the rear door before quickly grabbing his hat from the back seat without even acknowledging the two disgruntled men in the front, pleasantly wanting them to both fully appreciate his full importance. After all they had just missed the tabloid contingent at the train station due to their inefficiency and so Ness felt like he was giving them a gift, a brief glimpse of his significant presence within this new community. He smiled to himself because he was sure that both his infuriated former travel companions would appreciate this spectacle and would make them think twice before psychoanalysing him again. He then turned and hastily ran back up the congested stairs to the eagerly awaiting Cowles whom by now looked a little confused as he saw the returning Ness place the hat upon his head and duck to avoid the reporters’ questions and camera flashes.
As Ness came through the pulsating crowd, the relieved Cowles then led him around the sealed off reception area and away from the relentlessly determined reporters. Cowles then supplied Ness with a complimentary pre-prepared coffee before briefly showing him around the ground floor offices whilst the mass of reporters stood by the entrance and continued to shout speculative questions at Ness. The reporters hoped for a glimmer of a response from the elusive lawman, not content with waiting for the press conference that was planned for tomorrow morning with the mayor. The way the headquarters was designed allowed for the mass of desperate reporters to easily be able to watch Ness and Cowles slowly migrate from location to location, teasingly showing the famed Untouchable before then reconciling him within its wooden and glass walls.
Its open plan design, art deco and wooden panelled floors allowed little defence against their unrelenting requests for quotes and as Ness walked by he smiled periodically at the reporters, enjoying teasing them with his elusive gaze. The wooden and glass interior of the department was well worn down over years from long lines of criminals being shown to and from the back cells area. This somewhat fragile interior emanated a vulnerability due to its over use and was a far cry from its exterior, which oozed a self-confidence because of its stony coating of powerful geometri
c forms and almost stylized armour. After a while an impatient Cowles became eager to take Ness upstairs and away from the on looking rabble that he was apparently having fun with teasing, as they all jostled for his undivided attention whilst barking questions at him. Cowles then spoke by the impressive spiral wooden staircase that they had yet to ascend and which sat uncomfortably across from the main entrance where the rabble of reporters was located “That’s it sir! The end of our grand but brief tour and now if you’ll please follow me up the stairs to the awaiting Congressman and Chief. There both keen to make your acquaintance”
Ness then followed the ascending Cowles for a moment before Cowles then spoke again whilst pausing on the dominating spiral staircase “I’ve read all, well? Most of your exploits from Chicago Mr Ness sir and I must say that there most impressive! I bet you have some stories to tell? Err? May I ask you a question?” The excited Cowles was almost about to explode in anticipation upon asking his unknown question when the pleasantly surprised Ness replied, adoring the young man’s infectious excitably which his mere presence had created “Sure? Go ahead!” Cowles then asked his brief and unexpected question which Ness found amusing “What was Capone like?” Ness then took off his hat and smiled with an eyebrow raised, if he only knew how many times he had been asked this very same question before.
He then replied to the inquisitive officer’s question, resisting the opioids urge to elaborate or embellish his own grandeur yet further “He liked his food, cigars, women and lilac-green suits! He was a very shrewd and ‘complicated’ man and a larger than life character all round. A force of nature in his own right and a one of a kind whom I’ll never forget!” A wide-eyed and smiling Cowles appeared to be imagining the infamous Capone whilst Ness colourfully described him and, apparently satisfied with the answer, he then proceeded to lead Ness up some more stairs. Ness then took this golden opportunity to wave goodbye at the on looking crowds by the entrance below, as well as to some arrested drunk people whom were being charged by the bookings desk and who confusingly waved back, to his amusement. Cowles then paused again, turned and continued speaking “Your description was rather more positive than I had anticipated sir. You sound as though you respected Capone rather than hated him? Do you?”
The Noir Evil Page 8
