The Lost Angel

by Adam C Mitchell

  Part Two

  Daylight poured into the dark bedroom, bringing it to sorry life.

  Where was he? She slumped back on the disheveled bed. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, the blonde strands catching the early morning light. Curls of gold framed her pale face. She stood up again, circling the battered brown leather case which sat in the middle of the tiny room. Stopping in front of the large oval mirror, she stared longingly at her reflection. Would it give her the answers she was looking for?

  The dainty green hat sat on her head at an angle. The faux grey fur collar on her pink coat reminded her that she was ready to get out of this place. Panic welled up. She was a wreck. She wiped the tears from her blue eyes. He will come he will be here! Just sit tight, Kim. Sit tight. She wiped more tears away and resumed sitting on the bed, waiting.

  The shrill ring of the telephone broke the silence. Slowly, she raised the phone to her ear. “Kimmie Saint-Claire, is that you, Rudy?” She twirled the cord around her finger with a trembling hand. “Rudy? Where are you?”

  She bit her lip hard, waiting for the sound of his voice. Nothing for a long moment, then a strained, “I need help. I’m in a bad way.” Kim wrote the address down that he gave her, grabbed her case and rushed from the motel room. She hurried down the stairs to her Ford-6. The lime-green paintwork added to her nausea.

  ***

  Throwing the case in the boot she was away, heading out of the city. Worry etched like stone on her face. Tears ran down her flushed cheeks. Rudy needed her help, the thought of him dying spurred her on. She raced past farms and country cottages. Central City became a distant shadow behind her. She checked the address and turned right at the road ahead. The wheels crunched gravel as the battered car came off the highway and onto the dirt tracks. A short way up was a rusty hut with broken gas pumps out front. The old gas station was a relic.

  Kim parked up. Making her way up two rickety steps, she pushed the barely hanging door open. It creaked as she stepped through. A hand grabbed her, pulled her inside and covered her mouth.

  “Rudy?”

  She struggled, but the man held her firmly in place. But then his hand slid from her face as he fell against the wall of the hut, slumping into a heap on the floor.

  Kim spun around. . The room was dark and dusty, but the chinks of light seeping through the wall boards showed blood glistening on the man’s shoulder and leg. A trilby hat covered his face, shoulder, and leg. It wasn’t Rudy, he was too big and tall for it to be him. So who was he?

  “Don’t be alarmed, Miss Saint-Claire. I’m a friend of Rudy’s. We worked together.”

  She stopped her backward steps and stared at him.

  “He said you’d help me. The names Eddy Kovakx.”

  Wide-eyed, she glanced around. “Where’s Rudy? Where’s my man?”

  Silence met her question. Eddy had passed out.

  ***

  Half an hour later Eddy woke. It took him a wayward minute to make sense of everything that had happened. The sound of a distant memory, a prayer, bringing him to his senses. Eddy wasn’t a religious man but the words brought him peace. The pain in his thigh had eased, and a steely blue-eyed angel looked down at him—praying for him. The prayer and her looks made him feel almost superhuman. Like one of those caped heroes he’d seen on the magazine stands, even if it was for only a few fleeting heartbeats.

  His thigh was wrapped in pink cloth, torn from the inside of Kim’s coat. It did the job though, and she had dressed the cut on his head as best as she could too. Kim rolled his trouser leg back down, set a wooden box in front of Eddy and finished cleaning him up. “Well, Eddy, who are you, and where’s my Rudy?”

  Eddy took Kim’s left hand in his, feeling the tremble in it. He looked so deep into her eyes he could almost see the fear and growing pain. “I’m sorry, doll face, Rudy’s dead.”

  “How? Why?” Kim screamed breaking down.

  “We did a job together, thought it’d be gravy… I’m really sorry, doll-face…’

  She was shocked to the core, and who could blame her? She listened as Eddy explained himself, trying to compose herself. She’d crack soon though, Eddy could tell that much. “He wouldn’t shut up talking about you, Kim.”

  A smile came over her face as tears rolled down Eddy’s. She wiped his grizzled face with a cotton cloth from her pocket

  “All done.” She blushed, a cherry red slowly touching her cheeks. “Thanks, doll,” Eddy thought. He just sat there and let her play nurse, wondering if he should make a move. Eddy knew his timing could be better

  “Your leg is clean now. The lead went straight through. You’re lucky, for all the blood, it was only a flesh wound. Anyway, Eddy, how did you cut up your legs so bad?”

  Eddy took a second before answering. “Car crash, I got out before it went over a cliff, had to jump for it.”

  Kim was amazed. “Gee, you had it tough.”

  “Yeah, and thanks to Rudy, and now you, I’ve got pennies from heaven. I’m set up for good.” Without warning, Kim slapped his face with an almighty wallop.

  “Okay, doll, sorry. That came out wrong. I liked the mug, even if I only knew him for a short time. He was my kind of fathead.”

  Kim was crying. Rivers of tears washed down her face, taking her makeup with it. Eddy took her in her arms and held her. She melted into his embrace. They remained in each other’s arms for what felt like an age. Eddy didn’t know if it was the moment or something more, but when he placed a kiss on her lips, she kissed him back. Their lips touched and danced.

  Eddy broke the moment.

  “Well, what now darling? What were your plans with your old man? You couldn’t have stayed, the heat would have been on him.”

  She spoke with a slight stutter. “We...we had train tickets for Chicago and then who knows, maybe Liberty City or Frisco, we hadn’t decided.”

  Eddy thought for a moment. The train! Yes, that might work.

  “Okay, Kim… Can I call you Kim?”

  She nodded meekly. “If you like… we can catch the train to Liberty City together, you and me. You can have a cut of the money, set yourself up in a new place, a new life.”

  * * *

  The train station was a few miles away. Eddy had lost a lot of time waiting for Kim to fix him up. But he was thankful for her. She had saved his life. She was real pretty, a ‘Hotsy-Totsy’ too. It would look better travelling as a couple. Ruddy was batting well above his average with Kim; she was a real saucy dish. Eddy owed her loads and would pay in full.

  Within the hour, they were off again. The train from Central City thundered across the country. Kim kept her eyes glued to the window. He got the impression she had never left the city. The green fields passing them by enchanted her, intoxicating her like a drug filling her thoughts. Eddy was just happy to leave it behind him.

  Still, he watched everybody who passed through the compartment they were in. Its wooden confines offered little comfort. He studied them like a hawk on its prey. He couldn’t help himself. It was the crook in him. Old habits died hard.

  He smiled as he hugged the leather bag, concealed by his once designer jacket. His smile grew bigger as the train slowed into Chicago and the city’s almost clean skyline hit him.

  ***

  The morning’s dirt sheets were full of the mob styled shooting in Central City, announcing the start of a citywide hunt. Rudy’s dead face was splashed across the front page. They didn’t seem to have any leads on the heist or gunfight. It didn’t mention the money, which was dirty, so it wasn’t all that surprising. If they looked too hard, people in high up places would come unstuck.

  Eddy called a taxi from the station and they headed to a plush hotel nearby, paying with a crisp twenty. They booked in as Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, honeymooners from out west. They were shown to a top-floor suite overlooking a small park. Eddy paid the busboy with another note, and then checked out the bathroom and his thigh. He returned and sat down, shirt still open. Kim blushed.


  “You okay, doll face?” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Like what you see?”

  Kim’s blush deepened. She glanced around. “Oh, yes, Eddy, it's lovely,” she said, and then looked at him. She felt his chest her hands, stroking his skin. Their eyes met, and for a moment, there was something in the air, something electric. A sensual, almost erotic desire filled the suite. A loud crack and the dull thud of brass hitting the pillows remedied that.

  Shattered glass filled the room. The windows were gone, shot out. Eddy pulled Kim to the floor. “Stay there, doll. I’m going to take a look,” he breathed, panicked.

  He grabbed his gun from the sideboard, edging cautiously toward the window as he hugged the wall. The glass cut his feet. Looking outside, he caught the fleeting glance of a man on the roof of the building opposite, and then the flash of a gun barrel. Another volley of brass hit the back wall.

  Eddy aimed and let out three shots. The shooter ran out of sight.

  Not such a clean get away then. They were on to him, wanting their money back. Eddy and Kim needed somewhere safe to hide out.

  * * *

  After calming Kim down with a glass of gin, Eddy decided to head for a busy bar, a place called Crystal’s. He needed time to think. Three double whiskeys later, he realized there must have been someone else in the alley that night. Someone from the family maybe? They knew he had the money and followed him. He needed to become invisible, at least until he could work something out.

  They did a little shopping in a nearby market while trying, to spend as little money as possible, just in case it left a paper trail. They got fresh clothes, but nothing too flash. Eddy bought some plain brown trousers, a khaki shirt and a brown canvas jacket. Kim bought a cream blouse that cut above the knee, though Eddy thought she looked a million bucks even in that. It wasn’t safe at the hotel, so they packed and slipped out without paying.

  Eddy hailed a cab and they left the glamour of the city behind. They moved downtown and after a few nights in an obscure backstreet hotel, healing and hiding, they rented an apartment above a shop and boxing gym, “O’Neal’s Hard Knox.” It was quiet and had a back way out.

  With their accommodation fixed, they needed food. They hadn’t eaten in days. Eddy didn’t want to get shot at in an open restaurant so they decided to eat in. He would fetch some food while Kim hit the shower.

  “Don’t open this door for anything,” he told her. “Even if God himself comes knocking. Okay, doll-face, I won’t be long.” An hour later, he stopped by an Italian Deli on the corner, a red-brick called Giovanni’s, then hotfooted it straight back.

  When Eddy reached to the top of the grim, greasy stairs, his heart went to his throat. The door was busted and its lock shattered. Splinters of broken wood littered the floor. The room was a mess too, someone had searched the place. Everything was cut up torn or upended, but the worst thing was that they’d got Kim. He couldn’t see any blood but that wasn’t a huge comfort. He felt angry, but that wouldn’t help now. He hunted the room for something, anything, a clue or lead that might tell him who he was dealing with and where they had taken Kim. He found a note on the bed next to one of Kim’s hairpins, which read...

  WE HAVE THE WOMAN, WE WANT THE MONEY.

  SIT TIGHT AND WAIT WE WILL CALL YOU ON THE PAYPHONE

  AT THE END OF THE STREET

  NO TRICKS OR ELSE!!!

  The place was a total shambles, but they had missed his colt. He’d hid it in the cistern, wrapped in a rag. With nothing to do but wait, he tried to put the room back together. It didn’t help the feeling of unease and tension brewed in my stomach. His hunger didn’t matter anymore, and he threw the food in a trash can.

  As the night drew in his mind was on Kim. He wanted to sleep, but how could he when she was out there? The next day dragged until it was 7:30 in the evening. When the phone rang, he picked it up. Where’s the girl?”

  A husky, muffled voice on the other end replied. “She safe—for now. We want the money or she’s dead!”

  Eddy clenched his fist. He had no choice but to play along. “I’m not doing a damn thing until I know she’s okay! You hear me?”

  Cold terror hit him as Kim screamed out. He didn’t know what they had done to her, but he had to calm down. Before the muffled voice had a chance to speak, Eddy cut in. “Okay, pal, listen up! Where do you want the exchange to happen, and when?”

  The muffled voice paused as if talking to someone. Then went on. “Midnight tonight. Go to the corner of Mason and 117th Street. There’s an old police call box there. We’ll tell you more later. Remember, pal, no cops or tricks or the broad’s dead.”

  The phone went dead. Kim’s screams told Eddy two things. Firstly they meant business. Secondly, they’d probably broken a few fingers just to put the fear of the Almighty into her. Taking the Colt from his belt, Eddy spun the six bore chamber and reloaded. His mind went over the call so many times he could reel it off word for word. The minutes turned into hours and he made a plan, of sorts. He’d heard dock sounds during their phone call; cranes, boat horns, and distant gulls. It was a gamble, but he was going to check out the docks and hope to get lucky. It was time to roll the dice and see where they landed.

  The cab ride darting down numerous roads and alleys, feeling as though it was taking forever. When they turned past a derelict tannery, the smell of the sea hit him.

  The tang of salt made his mouth dry. Pulling up a few meters away, Eddy paid the driver and entered the shadows created by some nearby sheds. Eddy hopped over a small chain-link fence, being careful not to be seen. He caught his thigh and a shot of pain hit him. He sighed, looking around wasn’t easy. The docks dim lighting didn’t aid his search. He couldn’t see a thing. The meet was meant to go down at 7:30, which meant Eddy had an hour to find Kim, before whoever was pulling the strings realized something was up.

  * * *

  He dotted to the wharf, cutting through a small shed. The sea of buildings seemed to go on forever. He climbed on a small crate and ducked down. He noticed the phone booth and a nearby jetty. He was close.

  Apart from water lapping against the small boats moored up the jetty was quiet. They had to be on one of them. “Come on, Eddy” he mumbled. Searching the first boat—The Darling—took a little while. Its two decks were empty. No one had sailed this old girl in a long time.

  He walked towards the stern. Noticing a dim lantern behind a small raft, he saw movement shadows, heard voices. He rechecked his gun, watching and trying to figure out his next move. His hunch was right. -The Caroline Grace- had a cabin of sorts, so making his way to the once grand boat by means of a small ladder, he peered on the deck. It was clear. Pulling out his gun, Eddy crept up. The water splashing against the hull hid his footsteps on the wet deck. Through a porthole, he saw Kim tied up, like a real damsel in distress from a Hal Roach Studio flick.

  Three men sat at a small table playing Rummy. All of them were big goons. All seemed the type to shoot first.

  Not good! He edged up to the porthole and hid behind a small lifeboat. Surprise was all he had, so he had to be quick. Gripping the gun in his right hand, he made his move. Eddy kicked the cabin door in. It swung loose and he entered. He let off four shots, dropping the trio, with one getting plugged twice in the chest. The smell of gunpowder filled the small space. Pulling a pocketknife from one of the stiffs, Eddy cut Kim loose.

  Apart from a few broken fingers, she was unhurt. It explained the screams he’d heard on the phone. Eddy had to clean up this mess, and by that he meant torch it. The dock was quiet but the shots might have woken a sleeping watchman and Eddy didn’t want to explain his way out of this, or worse. He told Kim to wait by the jetty, assuring her he wouldn’t be long. He went below deck, returning minutes later with two jerry cans. The boat needed to be a bonfire, and quick. Pouring the kerosene over it was the easy bit, lighting the damp matches wasn’t. After a few failed attempts it went up like the fourth of July.

  He had covered their tracks for now. Th
ey ran away from the docks with the flames to their backs. Another hour or so later, they found ourselves back outside the apartment.

  * * *

  Kim picked up a few essentials and then they headed down the staircase. An old man’s voice stopped them.

  “I can help you disappear if you want. Follow me, and if not, then good luck to you both.”

  The man had long grey unkempt hair, greased down to his flaky scalp like concrete. A thinning white beard added to the hobo look. His smart but old gym slacks were sweat-stained from years spent in the gym. He had a trusting face, like a grandparent figure, and they followed him into the apparently safe haven of the gym.

  He led them to a back room next to the training ring. It smelt of sweat and age-old dust and like its owner, it felt safe. Minutes later they sat at the table, hot drinks in front of them. They were safe for now, yet still uneasy. The old guy ran his hands through his thinning hair then held out his right hand. “Paddy’s the name. Paddy O’Neal. This here’s my place.”

  Eddy eyed him up and down. “Okay, old-timer, you said you could help us?”

  Paddy offered a toothless smile. “So you’ve got your doubts about me, laddie? Eddy Kovakx’s ya’ name, right?” Paddy’s broad Irish accent made it hard to understand but he kept listening.

  “Keep talking,” Eddy said, his patience getting a bit frayed.

  “I run this gym, my lad, and I’ve a few hopefuls here, ya ‘see. We travel around the country on tours and the like and it just so happens we’ve a trip planned. I thought maybe you could pose as a boxer of sorts. We could slip you out of town unseen.”

  Eddy nodded. “What about Kim?”

  Paddy turned to her and took her hand. With a pot full of Irish charm and a whisper from the blarney, he kissed it. “You can pose as my daughter, ya sweet lil’ thing. So, what do you think?”