half-empty pack of cigarettes

Covered in shadows, he’s standing by the wide-open window of his dark, first-floor, downtown apartment. The record player on the other end of the room is playing slow, dark noir jazz. A lit cigarette is held between his thumb and the middle finger. From time to time, it’s slowly raised to his mouth to be taken a painfully long hit of. The actions are careful, with the arm extending back just enough so that the raindrops don’t put the fire out. The nights here are dark, but to him, this one feels darker than usual. Even a light as small as this feels worth keeping safe. Never before did he see a night so empty being filled with such dense rain.

He stares into the darkness of a sleeping city. As the cigarette in his hand comes close to burning his fingertips, he throws it into the ashtray without bothering to put it out. He blows out the last smoke through the window, turns to the side, and takes several steps toward his work desk. Pulling the chair back with one hand, he reaches for the pack with the other. As he sits down behind the table, he already has a cigarette put in between his lips that he lights up before the last one manages to go out on its own. He turns on a dim desk lamp, opens up a drawer, and takes out a sound recorder that he places on the table right in front of himself. A deep breath, a couple of clicks, and the tape starts rolling:

“Detective Axel Nash, badge number one-five-nine-five,” he begins and stops shortly after as he takes another painfully long cigarette hit. “I… I don’t know exactly why I am recording this. I guess I need to lay this out somewhere. Or maybe I just solved so many mysteries in my life that I don’t want to leave one behind. In any case, here I am.

Detective Henry Hawkins. My partner and probably my only real friend. Yesterday – they found him dead. Shot once, in the chest, in the fucking alley right behind his favorite lunch place. The guy wasn’t even working that day. A man that he was deserved a better ending to his story. And do you know what it said in the report? He was killed in a simple robbery! A cop, like him, shot in an alley in the middle of the fucking day. Because of what, a few tens of dollars and a watch?! Just like that?

But somehow, the convenience of the fact that he was digging up dirt investigating the Cornell crime organization gets swiped under the rug rather quickly. Too quickly, if I was to judge. Unfortunately, I wasn’t, and because they saw it as a lack of evidence, the case got closed almost immediately. Of course, not before I went in myself to have a word with the prick behind the trigger that they caught on the very same night. This little talk of ours was never going to be done by the book. But it wasn’t like anybody dared to stand in my way, not then.”

***

Axel walked into the interrogation room and smashed the door shut behind him. He took a couple of steps towards the table where the handcuffed suspect was sitting tight and, with equal force, struck the man’s head to the table. Not a single word in between.

As the guy lifted his head back up, the bright lights in the room only made the concussion worse.

“What the fuck, man?!” he screamed, rubbing his forehead and checking for blood. “You can’t do that to me! I know my rights!”

“Your rights? You gave up your rights the moment you pulled that trigger, you piece of shit!” Axel shouted as he threw down his clenched fist on the table. He pulled back the chair and sat down, all while aggressively looking straight into the eyes of the junkie right in front of him. Then, for a moment, he turned his gaze to the case file lying on the table. Nash opened it but only managed to read it for a couple of moments before the criminal worked up the courage to talk back:

“So what if I shot that guy? You think I care? They got the evidence, I’m already going to jail, and you can’t-”

The junkie wasn’t able to finish the sentence as Axel shoved the file to the side, jumped up, and instantly grabbed the man by his throat.

“I can’t what?” he said, looking like he was about to strangle the guy. “I’ll make you care, you low-life scum. You’re gravely mistaken if you think this is as bad as it gets. Because it gets worse, so much worse.”

For a moment, the prisoner’s face stood still in fear. He thought for a few seconds and most likely decided that Axel was simply playing the bad cop. This idea made him smile and even gave out a little bit of laughter. Little did he know, this was no act.

Still looking into the eyes of the criminal, the detective smiled, put his hand in the pocket, and, with a key found inside, unlocked the cuff holding the prisoner to the table. He then stood up, walked closer, and cuffed the man’s hands together.

“Yeah, that’s right, you better take me out of here,” the guy said, feeling like he had the edge in this encounter. “I see right through you, tough guy.”

Axel looked at him with an unsettling calmness in his eyes that became a lot scarier than any aggression demonstrated previously. At the very moment that the detective reached his pocket and let go of the key, his hand was clenched into a fist. Then, with a swift movement, he pulled back and struck the suspect right in the face. The hit was strong, knocking the guy right off his feet. He fell backward, bumping against the wall and finally stumbling to the ground. This time, there really was blood on his face.

“Aron fucking Smith. What a forgettable name and what a forgettable face,” Axel said, visibly angry. “You think anyone will care what I do to you here? Shit, I could literally torture you, and nobody would even lift a finger. But that’s not what I’ll do. No, I’ll just make sure the rest of your life is complete misery.” The detective looked straight into the man’s face and laughed.

“What? You thought you would get the chair?” No, this would be too good for you. I’ll ensure you get the worst possible conditions on the life sentence you’re about to serve. Multiple previous arrests, jail time, and now, a cop murderer? This is not even going to take any effort,” he said, slowly walking back and forth in front of the handcuffed man. “Now, your sorry ass is screwed anyway I look at it. You can either make the rest of your life a complete misery, reaching prison in a state you’ve never been in before. And only lords know what will await you there. Or, you can talk and maybe, just maybe, have it a little bit better for yourself.”

Aron spat blood to the side of the room, wiped off his mouth with both of his hands, looked at the cop, and with a bit trembling voice, replied:

“Even if I wanted to tell you anything more, there’s nothing new, alright? I needed money. The guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He tried to fight back and take the gun from me. I shot him. End of the story. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that. And I’d be damned if I knew he was a fucking cop.”

“And what about your connection with the Cornells, huh?” Axel said as he stopped, crouched down, and got in the face of a man sitting against the wall once again. “You lying prick, I know you work for them. A little bit too convenient that Detective Hawkins started digging up some serious dirt right before you shot him, wouldn’t you say? It seems more like a planned hit than a wrong place and time if you ask me.”

“Okay, I get how this looks, but it’s really not like that. It’s true, I was running with them up until not too long ago. But then, my little enjoyment of some China white every once in while started bothering them too much for some reason. They admitted me to some sort of private hospital. A week or so goes by - I get thrown right out. “Your bills are not being paid for anymore,” they tell me. I can’t believe this, so I go straight to the Cornells. When I get there, they tell me to piss off! They say they’ll have to shoot me if I don’t. And so I do.” Aron says with a completely different attitude now. “I had nothing left, and I was in horrible pain. Whatever savings I had ran out in a few days. And I really, I mean really needed some…medicine.”

The detective looked down and sighed in disappointment mixed with disbelief. He slowly stood up, fixed his shirt, and, without saying anything else, started moving towards the door. This caught the criminal by surprise. He was expecting another punch or at least some shouting. He straightened up against the wall and asked:

“So that’s it? You just stand up and leave? What will happen to me?”

Axel stopped right as he reached the exit. He turned his head back and, with a neutral expression, replied:

“You won’t have to wait too long to find out. I would say ‘enjoy the prison’, but I doubt you will ever enjoy anything else in this life.”

Then, he turned back to the door, opened it, and left. Just like that.

***

Axel throws the cigarette into the ashtray. For a few moments, his gaze returns to the dark nothingness on the other side of the open apartment window. Soon, he takes a deep breath, gathers his thoughts back together, turns to the recorder, and continues:

“If there is one thing the Cornells pride themselves upon – it’s loyalty. And this bastard, I scared him well. He was trying to convince me otherwise. But in this situation, all his whimpering did not help his cause. He could’ve said anything to get it at least a bit better. Maybe I should’ve been more patient, but that doesn’t matter now, does it?

The moment I left the interrogation room, I already knew where I was headed next. There is this place, this jazz club, owned by Archie Cornell. A gem of a night, as some would say. Lovely front; got to give them that much. There is a lot of shady business around there, but that’s below my radar. What I was really after was a certain someone on the inside. Given a lot of shared history between us, I knew I could count on some friendlier words and more promising leads.”

***

The detective stopped right in front of the entrance. He lifted his head up and looked right at the bright sign, shining above the door he was about to go through. The name on the sign said ‘Blue Dakota.’

“Here we go,” Axel said softly as he exhaled the smoke of a cigarette and threw the butt straight into a puddle right next to where he was standing. The soft hiss of a fire being extinguished by water could be heard as he opened the doors and walked right inside.

Live jazz music was already being heard only a few steps in. He hung up his raincoat in the cloakroom and entered the main hall. Without looking around too much, Axel headed straight to the bar. He lifted a couple of fingers, looking directly at the man behind, and said:

“A glass of water, please.”

“Coming right up,” replied the bartender, looking at the detective as if his order really didn’t fit his looks, but fulfilling it anyway.

An almost full glass soon got placed in front of Axel. He thanked him, dropped some coins on the bar, picked up the drink, and turned towards the stage. Walking a little bit closer to the action, he searched for a recognizable face around the place. Turning to his right, he noticed a familiar figure standing in the shadows.

“Detective, detective. What a pleasant surprise,” said a woman standing by the table in a dark corner. She blew out the smoke and took the cigarette out of the holder, extinguishing the small light in the ashtray. Only when she started moving towards him did shadows finally let go of her perfectly shaped face. While her short, rounded hair exposed it impeccably, the graceful walk did all the same justice to her body. No matter how prepared he thought he was, her appearance seemed to catch him by surprise every time. It required an unyielding will to resist that kind of attraction. On a usual evening, he really didn’t have what it takes. That night, however, was different.

“A surprise indeed, Jacqueline,” said Axel as he looked her straight in the eyes. “But I doubt that it’s a pleasant one.”

“Why? You mean to tell you’re not here to see me?” she asked with a mysterious smile, looking right back at him. Axel looked down to the side, took a sip of water, and started talking:

“To see you, that’s right. But not in a way you would like me to, I’m afraid,” he said as they started moving towards the side of the club, away from the bar, the lights, and all the eyes and ears. “Henry, he got shot this morning. He didn’t make it.”

“Oh god,” Jacqueline whispered as a smile escaped her face. “I heard about some cop being shot. I just didn’t realize- I’m so sorry. You probably need something stronger than that,” she said, nodding toward the glass of water in Axel’s hands.

“You seem to forget – I don’t drink,” he replied after taking another sip of water. “Got to keep my mind sharp. Besides, there are more important things at hand. I need your help.”

“Of course, but how can I even help you here?” she asked as they stopped in the corner near the dark table Jacqueline had been standing at before. She was looking at him with eyes full of unsettling thoughts.

“The junkie that shot him, he has a history with your employers,” the detective started talking in a toned-down voice, looking around, checking if no one was listening. “It can’t be a coincidence that Henry was investigating them before all this. They must be covering something up.”

“I… I understand, Axel, but you have to consider the possibility that he was in their pocket. There are not that many clean cops left in this city.”

“No, don’t start with this. I knew him better than anyone. There’s no way this could be true,” he replied, a little angered by the mere suggestion. “Henry was working even when he wasn’t. He was even doing some private investigating on the side from time to time. The last time I saw him, he mentioned taking some interest in the Cornells. Said he felt something was brewing. You must hear things around here. Please, just throw me a bone. I’m in the dark.”

“I don’t know if I can help you that much. There is this huge party being organized here that might interest you. A couple of days from now. Archie’s big eighty. Almost every important figure will be there. You wouldn’t believe the things they’ve got planned.”

“I’m not interested in how this rich crook makes himself feel good. I highly doubt he would attract so much attention to himself and the club if he was planning something else in there that night.”

Jacqueline looked away. For a few moments, she was simply staring into the stage and thinking. When she turned back, she leaned closer to Axel and whispered:

“Well, there’s also… I’m not sure this is accurate, but I heard that they hang around the docks quite a lot lately. There is this ship; I think it’s called ‘Marcelle’ or something. That’s all I know, at least for now.”

“You helped more than you know. Thank you, I mean it,” he replied just as quietly. “And if you could, keep your ears open. You would do me a huge favor.”

“I know, I will. And you will owe me big time, detective.”

“I’ll make it up to you. You have my word.”

“You better,” she said, talking in the usual tone again. “I’ve got to go now; I need to be on stage in five minutes. I would ask you to stay and watch, but-”

“Next time, I promise.”

Jacqueline looked at him and smiled, but no words left her lips in reply. Then, she fixed her dress and started to walk slowly toward backstage. Only a few steps in, she stopped, looked back at the detective, still standing in the dark corner, and said:

“And Axel, please, be careful.”

“I’ll try my best.”

***

For a few moments, the detective stops talking. He takes a deep breath and pushes the recorder slightly to the side. Then, he leans to the other side and stretches his hand under the table where, without too much effort, he finds and grabs a bottle of whiskey. Axel pulls it out, immediately opens it, and fills the glass that has already been standing on the table the whole night long. He places the bottle next to the recorder, picks up the drink, and takes a few good sips, one right after another.

With at least half of the glass already gone, he picks up a cigarette pack, takes out another one, and lights it up. Nash keeps on rotating the glass on the table. All spaced out, he thinks about the things that could’ve gone differently. Soon, he comes back to reality as he pulls the recorder closer to himself and proceeds with the story:

“So, I left ‘Blue Dakota.’ The whole long night was still ahead, but my next destination was already set. The only thing was - I was running low on cigarettes. That, and the fact that I ate nothing the whole day, made me plan my journey a little differently.

I saw no reason to waste any time, so I got in my car and left for the docks. I only made a necessary stop in the gas station that, fortunately, had a diner still working right next to it. There weren’t any actual indications, but somehow I knew – these were the last peaceful moments that I’ll get to enjoy for now.”

***

The car stopped a little past the empty parking lot’s entrance. Close enough to be within a short walking distance but far enough not to raise a lot of suspicions. Axel turned off the engine and the lights but did not rush to get out. Instead, he sat back, picked up the brand-new pack, and took out a cigarette. He sparked a match, and for a few moments, this dark night was a little bit brighter.

He lit up his smoke and proceeded to simply sit there, dragging on, looking at the docs through his car’s windshield. In his mind, he was running through all the scenarios he could imagine, trying to ready himself for whatever was to come. He knew that it was hardly possible to be truly prepared, but at the very least, this sort of ritual gave him a bit of a confidence boost. Sometimes, it can be all that matters.

The detective finished his cigarette and threw it out on the road before rolling up the window and opening the doors. After stepping outside, he locked the car and started cautiously walking towards the entrance. He kept to the shadows as he was sure that if there was something going on, the guard would most definitely be bought. Being exposed like that would ruin everything before it has even begun.

On the move, consideration of going back and picking up a pair of bolt cutters was still going on. Once he approached the guard booth, however, he was glad he didn’t risk tearing up his suit. The guy inside seemed sound asleep. Still, just to be sure, he crouched down and sneaked past, keeping under the view of the window.

“No room for mistakes,” he thought as he moved on into the darkness.

Locating the only ship with any activity on it, especially in the middle of a quiet night, didn’t take long. But a clear sight of it didn’t give Axel that much of an advantage as he had no further plan of action that would lead him inside. Since the only way in was past two heavily armed guards, Nash decided to stay in position and wait for an opportunity to present itself. He figured that if there really was something big going on inside, sooner or later, there would be a window of opportunity.

“Marcelle…” Axel whispered to himself as he leaned back against a shipping container and took out a cigarette. “I wonder if the business inside is as fancy as the name.”

Not even an hour passed until the detective took notice of a car engine sound that seemed to be getting closer and closer. By the time he peeked around the corner, the headlights were already slowly moving through the gate. Moments later, the car stopped just a few tens of feet away from the ship. And it didn’t take him long to realize that this wasn’t just any vehicle in his eyesight. No, Axel has seen it multiple times, whether in surveillance reports or in front of ‘Blue Dakota.’ There was no mistaking – that beautifully shining, cherry ‘Rolls Royce’ belonged to none other than Archie Cornell.

“That dusty old nut does love to arrive in style,” Axel thought.

But there seemed to be something off about this whole arrival. No guards rushed in to keep watch or open the door for the old man; he did it himself. As a matter of fact, this time, instead of all spare passenger seats filled with grim-looking, armed men, the only other person in the car was the driver.

As they both stepped out of the vehicle and approached the ship’s entrance, the driver stopped to have a word with the guards. He quickly explained something, pointed towards the car, and rushed inside the ship, following Archie, who was already there.

One of the guards walked over to the Royce and started fiddling around the backseat window. Not long after, he called over the second one for help. At that moment, Axel knew – it was time.

“If I can’t get in unseen, at least I’ll have the element of surprise on my side,” he thought as he made his way to “Marcelle.” Knowing that the guards could turn around at any given moment, being swift and quiet was the key to success. Luckily, it was all that he needed in that dire situation.

Axel made his way onboard the small cargo vessel without many difficulties, but relaxing now was more than he could afford. To avoid being in anyone’s direct line of sight, he moved toward the middle of the ship and blended in with the shadows dropping from containers once again. The detective stopped for a moment and looked around the main deck, trying to create at least a rough layout of the ship in his mind.

Soon, he figured that the best place to overhear something would be near the accommodation quarters, so he carefully started walking closer. Suddenly, one of the doors opened up, and a man with a toolbox in his hands rushed out. Two other men, carrying some sort of crate, followed soon after, all too busy to notice anything or anyone out of place.

Axel looked around once again, making sure no eyes were following. Then, he quickly entered the cabin and carefully closed the door behind him. The messy room that seemed to have been turned into a workshop didn’t help locate any valuable intel. With little time on his hands, the detective started looking around for anything that would catch his eye. He stopped near the corner table and noticed a scroll popping out of the bottom drawer.

Rubber band – off, scroll – unrolled, and it’s just some blueprints for “Rolls Royce Phantom III.” Some things were marked around the windows, some around the doors, a few notes here and there but nothing pointing toward anything alarming. Axel sighted:

“Well, at least now I know they’re taking care of Archie’s car,” he whispered and shook his head in disappointment.

Unfortunately, with an unexpected knock on the door, the detective realized his welcome in this room was overdue.

“Doc, you in there?” a man shouted from the other side, followed by a few more knocks.

Axel quickly rolled the blueprint back, put on a rubber band, and threw it right into the drawer. Knowing that the guy on the other side of the wall might come in any second now, he took a few quiet steps and froze right in the spot that was supposed to be covered once the door was open. And sure enough, a few more knocks later, one of the armed guards stumbled in:

“I wanted to borrow-” the guard stopped mid-thought as his eyes couldn’t find anyone at the table nor the bed. “Ugh, never mind.”

He stood there for a few moments scratching his head. Then, he turned around and was about to leave when suddenly he stopped right next to the door. At that very moment, the detective realized that his hiding spot had most likely been compromised. It could have been nothing, but he wasn’t about to bet on a chance that this piece of metal hid him well enough.

The detective carefully took out his handgun and grabbed it by the wrong end. The moment the guard stepped backward, he pushed the door as hard as he could, shoving the guy to the side and closing the room shut. With the guard still trying to recover his balance, Axel jumped forwards and, with a swift swing, smashed the man on the head, knocking him right out unconscious.

Breathe in – breathe out. Breathe in – breathe out.

With his body calmed and his mind back in total control, Axel could now look around again and judge the situation more clearly. Another look at the guard made him realize that their dress code was not too different from his own, making it a perfect disguise for the night. Nash picked up his hat and put it on his own head before rolling the guy over on his back. Then, he lifted him just enough to remove the weapon strap from around his neck. The hanging Tommy gun on the detective’s chest truly was a finishing piece.

All dressed and ready, Axel pulled the unconscious guard over the room and stashed him under the bed. While it wasn’t the most visible place to begin with, the mess in the room made him quite sure that the first person to notice all this would be the guy himself once he woke up from his involuntary sleep.

Nash carefully checked the situation outside, looking through a small window on the side of the room. Seeing that the coast was clear, he quickly left, just to realize that it wasn’t so clear after all. As he casually closed the door and was about to turn, he bumped into someone else. When he turned back and saw an old man in front of him, his eyes popped out, and his heart froze.

“I’m done for,” a thought ran through his mind.

He was well aware that not anyone could simply come and join the Cornells. No, these people were handpicked by Archie himself. And that meant that he knew every single one of them. But no act is worth playing if you’re unwilling to see it through until the end.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I was looking for Doc and….”

Axel didn’t finish the sentence as the old man cut him off before he simply nodded his hand and took off. The problem was he didn’t quite catch on to what he was saying. It sounded almost as if he was talking in German. This completely dazzled the detective:

“What the hell just happened?” Axel thought, not moving one inch from the spot. “There is no way that was him. I wouldn’t be standing here still if he was, would I? And yet, he looked so similar. Dressed nothing like I would expect him to be, but…”

Nash wanted to stay there for a little while, but he knew that if he wasn’t made now, he definitely would be if he stayed. And so, all lost in theories and thoughts flowing through his mind, he kept moving. It seemed like he ran through every possible scenario: from head trauma to a distant cousin or a twin separated at birth. And yet, there seemed to be so many missing links.

Soon, Axel found himself taking the last few steps up the stairs to the second floor. Once he got to the top, he finally snapped out of his puzzled state of mind, realizing that this was not the time or place for any of this. Casually slow-walking through the living quarters, he focused on his surroundings, hoping to see or hear anything that could give him a better lead. He was about to take the stairs up once again when his attention was caught by the sounds coming from a room nearby. The door was barely cracked open, so the detective couldn’t resist this perfect eavesdropping opportunity. He stopped nearby, carefully leaned against the wall, and took out a cigarette.

“Not the best excuse for standing here, but I guess it’ll have to do,” Axel thought as he lit his smoke.

At first, all he could hear was a weapon being rapidly disassembled and put back together. While there are many more distinct sounds than this, anyone who served could recognize them without significant trouble.

“Time,” suddenly said the first man.

“How fast?” replied the other one.

“Two forty-one.”

“Ah, got to do better.”

“Nonsense, this is quite a great time!”

“It could always be better.”

“Well, however you like it. Ready to go again?”

“No, not yet,” said the second man as he lit a cigarette. “Let’s have a little break first.”

A silence fell, but not for more than half a minute.

“So what are you so nervous about?” asked the first guy.

“Man, I don’t know. I’m getting a little scared.”

“Why?”

“You heard how he took care of that guy? You know, the one who used to run errands for them? Just threw him on the street. Didn’t even waste a bullet!”

“Well, you’re not some sort of heroin addict, are you?”

“Well, no…”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. You heard the boss, some reforms are necessary. With all this shit going down, I think I can see why.”

“But still, this was never our way. What if I miss the shot? You think he will just let it slip?”

“Don’t overthink it. Just make sure the bullet gets where it needs to be. If you can’t make it, I doubt anyone else could. I have all the confidence in you.”

Axel listened to the conversation very carefully. He felt like, for the first time tonight, he was actually learning something useful. It seemed that he was finally starting to get somewhere. But when the door suddenly opened, it became clear that one tiny detail had been overlooked. Except in this situation, this ‘detail’ didn’t look so tiny. Apparently, there was a third man in the room. And that wasn’t someone Axel wanted to have a close encounter with right now or ever.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” said a low and heavy voice with a hint of irritation.

The detective, doing his best to stay in character, looked up to the eyes of a huge brute standing in front of him and took another puff.

“I guess we haven’t been officially introduced, then.”

“Spying is not a nice way to present yourself.”

“Well, if I see any spies, I’ll be sure to let them know.”

The brute cracked a not-so-pretty smile and replied:

“I’ll let them know myself.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

Axel forced a small laugh and turned to go when the big man in front grabbed him by his coat.

“I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” he said before catching the detective by the strap holding Tommy Gun. Although the pull was strong, Axel managed to swiftly slip out, only losing the weapon but not his balance. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t quick enough to avoid the punch to the jaw coming right after. Discombobulated, he could only hear the rifle being thrown to the floor. What followed was a rough lift-up. The next thing Nash knows, he is already flying inside.

The detective landed flat out on his back in the middle of the room he was just eavesdropping on. While the other two men quickly rose from their chairs, the brute was already in attack mode. He leaped forwards toward Axel with a facial expression that would leave an ordinary man frozen in fear. But Axel was no ordinary man. He has dealt with a situation like this before. The detective was quick to react. He pulled his knees to his chest, catching the brute with his feet and using all their strength to push him back.

“What a meathead,” the detective thought as the big man fell backward.

Nash rapidly stood up and turned around to face the other two thugs. The guy on the left immediately pulled out a bayonet and came straight at his opponent. The detective quickly jumped back, dodging the first swing, but on the way back, the blade did leave a mark somewhere below his left elbow. The thug was sure that with the third strike, this time straight forward, he would emerge victorious.

Unfortunately for him, the detective dodged and countered him with a fast right hook. The second crook had already managed to turn to the table and grab the sniper rifle, but by the time he could aim it, he, too, got welcomed by a nice left uppercut going straight to his jaw.

With the adrenaline rush and a few successful attacks, Axel was feeling quite pumped. He turned back to deal with the third guy, knowing damn well that he would cause a lot more trouble than these two. However, this time, it was more trouble than Nash could handle. This time he was the one greeted by a cross to his face. And then – all black.

Axel was woken up by a splash of cold water thrown at him. He wanted to jump up immediately, but the ropes tying him to a chair were holding well.

“Wake up, princess,” said the thug in front, with a smile that Nash hated immediately. “Boss wants to speak with you.”

Axel shook his head to get those annoying water drops off his face. Not seeing anyone else in the room, Axel angrily asked:

“So where is he then?”

“Don’t you worry about that. He will be with you soon enough,” the thug replied as he walked away and posted himself near the door.

The sight through the windows around gave the detective a couple of things away: First - it was dawn now. He must’ve been out for a couple of hours. And second – he was most likely being kept on the bridge. This meant that the escape would have to be quite complicated.

Axel tried to loosen up the ropes, if only a little, but the pain quickly got in the way and reminded him of earlier incidents. His head was pounding like hell, and his left hand was badly bandaged just to stop the bleeding from the cut. Apart from that, Nash could feel some additional bruises he could not remember getting.

But you don’t have to be a detective to figure out that the crooks didn’t miss a chance to make sure that he was out, especially after being gifted a few bruises of their own.

Suddenly, the door opened, and into the room walked an armed guard with Jeff Cornell following right behind.

“Well, well. We’ve got a little spying pig here for ourselves, don’t we?” he said, slowly approaching the captive.

“It’s funny, one of your guys just said the boss wants to speak to me,” Axel replied as he spat some saliva mixed with blood to the side. “And yet, I merely get entertained by his playboy son.”

“Well, what do you know? Maybe I am the boss now?” Jeff laughed to his face. “Or maybe, he simply doesn’t have time for some trash like you.”

Axel laughed just as well:

“Well, with all the things you will never have, at least your sense of humor will stay by your side.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” Cornell replied, seemingly a little angered.

“I mean, you do make a lot of noise around you. With how you treat things, it doesn’t take long to figure out that Alfie is never going to trust you as the head of the family.”

“Ooh, we’ve got ourselves a big investigator here. Do they let any moron become a cop these days?”

Ignoring Jeff’s word, Nash spoke on:

“And with the way that old geezer is holding up, I think it’s a safe bet to wish you patience. You will need it.”

Cornell looked Axel dead in the eyes as if he was about to hit him. But then, he just stepped back and laughed once again.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said with a smirk. “But anyway, you’re the guest here. Let’s talk about you! Detective Nash, is it?”

“I see you already had time to go through my personal belongings.”

“Oh, don’t be offended. I don’t like surprises.”

“I can tell. That’s why you took care of detective Hawkins, didn’t you? Or was it, as always, your daddy’s call?”

“Aha, so you’re not here only to throw some outdated insults at me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Alright, let’s clear this up. Nobody here gave two shits about that pig. Simple as that.”

“You think I’m going to believe you? Not minding that it’s nothing more than bullshit leaving your mouth, I also happen to know he was digging up some dirt on your precious family name.”

“Really? Like what? Let me guess; you can’t say much. You want to know why?”

“Spit it out.”

“Because all he had was a hunch. A feeling. Something’s happening, and he had to find out what. Well, bad news. Nothing’s happening. We set him up with an ‘informant’ to feed him a bunch of useless information that would keep him as far from our backs as possible. That’s it. Nothing worth killing a cop over. You, on the other hand. Besides the insults, which I would be happy to forgive, I feel you have seen too much in here.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I still don’t believe you. Does the name Aron Smith ring a bell?”

“Let me make this clear. I’m not responsible for the actions of some heroin fiend thirsty for his daily dose. What I can tell you is this: Detective Hawkins was a safe bet. He was barely a dot on our radar. You, however, not so much. And I don’t like taking chances. But here, let me leave you with this,” Jeff said as he took out a cigarette and reached out to Axel’s mouth. “Consider this as my departure gift.”

“How nice of you,” Axel replied before lighting up the smoke with a match from Cornell’s hands.

“Alright, I have more important business to attend to now. Good luck, champ. Sad to see you go,” the man laughed as he walked towards the door.

Right before he left, Jeff stopped and said something to the guard. The words were quiet enough so that they would only reach the intended ears, but to Axel, the message was evident either way. The man was left with the task of watching over the intruder and taking care of him once the sun went down. No more, no less.

Nash was sitting there for a while, trying to forge a plan of escape. While, with the sun still rising to the top, he had a lot of time on his tied hands, the situation was dire, and the evening was inevitably coming. But pain and fatigue weren’t the only things making it hard to focus on the task. He was also finding it extremely difficult to get rid of Jeff’s words spinning around in his head. Particularly the things he said about Henry.

Detective constantly caught himself drifting away, thinking that none of that should be accurate. And yet, the more rounds those thoughts did, the more they made sense. The stories told by the scum who shot him and by Cornell himself seemed to be more or less aligned. And while that might not have been enough alone, the conversation he overheard right before getting beaten in an uneven fight only cemented these beliefs.

“Could it be?” Axel thought to himself. “Could it really be that Henry died for nothing? That I, blinded by rage, followed a lead that wasn’t there to begin with?”

But there was something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The way Jeff talked, he seemed so confident about his position as a boss. Almost too confident. Almost as if he was talking earnestly. While that alone would most likely escape the detective’s attention, one, not so minor detail didn’t.

“Would he really kill a cop over this? Over a feeling that I’ve seen too much? There must be something else going on here. Something more than meets the eye.” Axel cogitated. “Maybe Henry did die for nothing, but I’m not going to let his death be meaningless.”

He started reviewing things in his mind, going over everything that happened last night. And then, little by little, the detective began to see a pattern. The sudden changes in the gang’s morals. A nervous shooter with a sniper rifle. An old man, most likely a war refugee, far from home and resembling Archie Cornell just a little too much.

They say eyes are the window to the brain and his eyes suddenly caught on fire:

“It must be true,” he was rapidly thinking with the energy he wasn’t aware of just a moment ago. “Archie’s never going to let Jeff take over the wheel of the family. That’s why he’s taking it himself. He’s going to have his father assassinated and replace him with some lookalike he probably promised a fortune to, just to spend the rest of his life as a puppet. He wants to rule, and he’s not letting anyone get in his way, even if that means killing a cop and ruling from the shadows. That’s cruel, even for someone like him.”

Having brought some peace over his mind with more or less joint dots, Axel could now focus on finding a way out. Since none of the considered options were very promising, he decided to go with the simplest one: trying to play just as equally exhausted night guard’s mind.

“I don’t suppose I’ll find any empathy in here, but man, I really need to take a piss,” Nash said loudly.

“Piss in your pants then,” the guard replied, a little irritated.

“Come on, what is it to you? Afraid I’ll escape? An automatic gun in your hands not enough to handle one beaten-up guy with his hands tied?”

“Oh, just sod off.”

“Well, suit yourself. You will be the one stuck cleaning the bridge and carrying my stinking body. You know, I drank quite a lot before-”

“Alright, alright,” the guard finally gave in and unwillingly started walking towards the captive. “Just no funny business, you hear? Or you’ll wish the night comes sooner.”

“Got it, boss.”

The crook came over and untied the ropes holding Axel to the chair. As the detective stood up, he said:

“Right, but what are we going to do with my hands? It's kind of hard to take care of business with them tied behind my back. Or are you going to help?”

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself,” he said in an irritated tone, pushing Axel forward with the barrel of the gun.

“I guess I will,” the detective replied before unexpectedly leaning forward, raising his hands as much as possible, and spinning one hundred eighty degrees as rapidly as possible.

Having used this little move to push the weapon’s target away from himself and disorient the enemy, he quickly leaned back and smashed into the thug’s nose with his forehead. As the crook fell to the ground with rivers of blood streaming from his nose, Axel quickly balanced himself out and kicked the guy in the head, knocking him out.

The detective almost regretted doing that, as the pain he felt in his head was now nothing short of being doubled. But he knew there was no time to feel sorry for himself, so he bit his teeth and walked over to the unconscious guard. A little struggling yet determined, Nash turned around and sat down to blindly check the unconscious man’s pockets for something sharp. As expected, Axel found a stiletto knife in the inside pocket of the guard’s jacket. Without the help of sight, he somehow managed to grasp the blade and set his hands free. Having done that, he stood up, stretched out, and walked to the nearby table to collect his belongings.

With most of the things back in their place, the detective started walking around and considering his exit plan. He knew leaving the way he came in was not a good option, as now everybody knew about his presence. The most logical option seemed to escape through the opposite side.

“Jumping into the water? I’m not sure; the drop is quite high. I’ll make a lot of sound,” Axel said before the corner of his eye caught something near the chair he was just tied to. “Unless I don’t jump.”

Nash went over to them and checked the strength of the ropes. Having decided to take his chances that way, he tied all the pieces together, carefully went outside, and found a post to tie a knot around. With the preparations all complete, he looked around once more to ensure no one was watching his side of the ship. Then, as carefully and quietly as possible, he repelled down into the water and swam away to the shore, determined to get to his car and get the hell out.

***

A cigarette is still smoking in the detective’s hand, held up by his now properly bandaged left arm. He stops speaking to clear his throat and fill another glass of whiskey. But after putting the bottle down, instead of taking a sip, he simply sights and leans forward, holding his head up by the forehead. For a few moments, he emptily looks at his desk, almost as if he could see images moving on the wood in front. Then, he leans back, takes a good hit of a cigarette, and, right after letting the smoke out, washes the taste down with a mouthful of bourbon.

“I should’ve been smarter. I should’ve found a better place to go. But I couldn’t think straight. Hell, even my cigarettes were all fucking wet now. There wasn’t much left of what was holding me together. I barely remember how I got there. Must’ve almost crashed at least a dozen times before I passed out right at her doorstep.”

Axel woke up to a pleasant smell of scrambled eggs with ham and the most beautiful singing his ears had ever heard. Good sleep in a soft bed and properly bandaged wounds made the pain much more bearable. He slowly sat up and got out of bed. When he put on fresh clothes found on the chair nearby, he walked over to the window. It was already getting dark, but with the clouds like these, it seemed darker than usual.

“How long was I out?” he thought as he scratched his still-aching head.

Besides a car that drove by, not many things seemed to be happening outside, so he turned away. Following the smell and the sound combination, Nash walked to the kitchen.

“You’re already up?” said Jacqueline once she saw Axel coming in.

“Why so surprised? I must’ve slept at least through a whole day.”

“Only a whole day. You should’ve seen yourself when I found you,” she replied, sounding a little worried. “I wasn’t even sure you were still breathing.”

“I have no time for sleeping in, not now.”

“Whatever happened to you? You had me worried.”

“I don’t want to get you more involved than I already have. You’ve done so much for me….”

“Well then, at the very least, I deserve some explanation, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I don’t think it’s such a good-”

“Sit down. The food is almost done. It would help if you ate something,” she interrupted him.

Axel realized it was better not to talk back and quietly sat in front of the table. Jacqueline finished making the meal and brewing coffee. Once everything was in plates and cups, she brought the food to the table and sat on the other end.

“So, I assume all these cuts and bruises weren’t for nothing. What did you find out?”

“Heavy stuff,” Axel replied before putting a piece of food into his mouth. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“I know it is,” she quickly brushed off the compliment, not wanting to get off the topic. “But what do you mean by heavy stuff?”

“Well, if you insist,” he said and took a deep breath. “I found out that Henry really did die for nothing. I was chasing a ghost. At least that’s the way it seems.”

“I’m really sorry, I know it must be difficult.”

“It means a lot. But there’s more. And it might just give a face to that ghost, even if it’s not directly.”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe Jeff Cornell plans to shoot Archie and replace him with a double. You wouldn’t believe how similar the other guy looks. Didn’t seem to speak any English though.”

“So, unofficially, he would become the head of the family?”

“Precisely. There is just this one little detail I can’t quite grasp.”

“What is it?”

“Why shoot him? Why not use something more discreet, like poison?”

“I don’t know. But I have a feeling there’s something more to it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I didn’t think much of it at first, but now with this… I think Archie Cornell is quite sick.”

“Really? How did you find that out?”

“Oh, you know, I have my ways. A few smiles and touches in the right places do the trick,” she smiled charmingly. “Quite a few small details slipped from his doctor’s drunken tongue, probably without him even realizing.”

“You’re wonderful,” Axel replied with a smile.

“There also has been a word around the place that Archie started canceling all of his meetings, talking to no one. Fewer and fewer public appearances, showing up quickly and disappearing just as fast, always surrounded by guards. No one outside his gang has seen him face to face in at least a few weeks. Weird that his birthday party plans didn’t shift one bit.”

Axel stopped eating, took a few sips of coffee, and proceeded to stare out through the window. Watching the cars go past the house detective was trying to join the dots. He was quietly sitting there for a few moments when finally, every single detail of this scheme found its perfect place in his mind.

“What if…” he finally said as he leaned back in his chair and turned to Jacqueline. “What if Archie is already dead?”

“But then, how would your previous theory make any sense?”

“Oh, but it would make perfect sense now!” Axel said in a raised voice, all excited by his revelation. “No one has really seen his face for the past few days. You said so yourself. And yet, he keeps appearing in places.”

“Enough to be noticed, but not interacted with. It must be the lookalike you were talking about!”

“Yes, exactly! And Jeff is not planning to kill his father. He’s planning to kill the double and make his death public. That’s why he has a sniper ready on command, and Archie’s birthday party is the perfect time to do it. Everyone will see it!”

“You’re right! But don’t you think they would notice it’s not really him?”

“Not if they don’t have enough time to look at him. I stumbled upon his car’s blueprints back on the ship. They were full of markings and notes, but only now do the sudden ‘upgrades’ make sense. They’re not making it better; they’re replacing the bulletproof glass with a regular one. Then, all that’s left to do is shoot him as he arrives and drive away with the body inside the car, leaving chaos behind.”

“I’m afraid to say, but this sounds quite genius. Still, why would Jeff go through all this trouble? If Archie is dead, he would be the head of the family either way.”

“Think about it. This way, he’s not only going to take over the family’s lead. No, he can use this to blame it on the Raffielis. An assassination of this caliber? This would start an all-out gang war. And being prepared, as he probably is, he could make a move before they even realize what has happened. Eliminate them once and for all without losing a bit of sympathy from his side.”

A short silence fell as they both took the newborn theory in. Jacqueline continued eating slowly, and Axel kept sipping his coffee, looking out the window. Suddenly, he noticed something that made him stop:

“This car,” he said all out of nowhere. “That’s the third time I see it drive through in the past half an hour.”

“Oh, don’t be looking for trouble on every corner, Axel.”

“No, no, there’s something off about it,” the detective replied, looking a whole lot more serious. “All seats seem to be filled, making rounds about this very same block. I think this place is not safe.”

“Nonsense, don’t be paranoid. Even if these are Cornell’s men, they have known me for a long time. They’re not about to shoot someone who works for them.”

“Don’t be so sure. There have been recent changes in their moral compasses. And there’s always a chance they made you back in the club or... Fuck, they probably somehow managed to trace me back here.”

The tension in the room suddenly rose to a pretty alarming level.

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Just… trust me. You have a sister upstate, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Why don’t you visit her for a couple of weeks?”

“What, you mean right now?”

“Yes. And you’ll have to make it quick. We have to leave as soon as possible.”

Seeing the terribly serious look on his face, Jacqueline went to her bedroom without saying another word. Axel picked up a pack of cigarettes from near the fireplace. Carefully checking the windows, he walked around the room before leaning back against the table to have a smoke and sharpen his mind for what was to come. A few minutes later, she came back bearing a small bag.

“Great. Now, do you still keep your car out at the back?”

“Yes, I never really use it.”

“Alright, follow me.”

They put on their coats and put out their cigarettes. Then, the pair very carefully walked out through the back door, leaving the lights on not to raise suspicion. Looking around every slight corner, they sneaked into the car and got inside.

“The keys, where are they?”

“Oh shit, I must have left them inside. Check on the bar.”

“Alright, keep your head down. I’ll go and get them.”

A little nervous, Axel carefully exited the car. Half crouched, trying to make as little sound as possible, he rushed back. Once inside, he quickly located the keys, and on the way back out, he grabbed a half-empty pack of cigarettes he had already encountered.

“No time to stop for a new pack,” Nash thought as he left through the door.

Detective, just as quietly as before, found his way back to the car. This time – with car keys in hand.

“Alright, we need to get you to the train station. Let’s go,” he said as he put the key in the ignition.

One turn – the car makes a sound but refuses to start. The second turn – it still doesn’t budge.

“Come on, come on...” Axel grunted through his bitten teeth.

Third turn – the engine is on!

Suddenly, as if completely out of nowhere – a screeching brakes sound, followed by the appearance of a car right in front. With the windows already rolled down, it took only a moment for multiple Tommy guns to show up out of the otherwise quiet darkness. The darkness that soon got filled with blinding lights and deafening sounds.

***

“The thugs left quickly after. We weren’t supposed to survive those bullets. Miraculously, all I escaped with was a flesh wound on my shoulder. But I would never call this a miracle. No, this seemed like the furthest thing from it as I watched the light fade away from her eyes. I held her head on my knees as she bled out. And there was absolutely nothing I could do besides wishing to be bleeding out beside her. A bullet went right through her throat. Such a divine voice, and she couldn’t even utter a single word in her last moments.”

Axel suddenly stops speaking, as if another bullet would’ve just pierced his own throat now. He picks up a pack and turns it upside down, just so the last cigarette could fall out on the table. He looks at it for a little while before putting it in his mouth and striking a match to light it up. This is the very last thing that he has left of her.

As he is smoking slowly, he looks through the window into the darkness, into the empty nothingness that never felt so dark before. Even the cigarette seemed to be burning dimmer as if it knew it was the last one left. If someone would ever ask, he would say that this never happened. Or maybe, he would blame the rain. But at this very moment, a few tears do leave his hard-boiled shell. A shell that now feels so terribly desolated.

Looking at his eyes, you could tell his immense regret. Mistakes were made. And it all could’ve been avoided had he just accepted the truth that was right in front of him from the very beginning. But there’s no turning back now. With the act played out as it did, one might as well be willing to see it through until the end.

Axel finishes the cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray. For a moment, he tries to think of more words to say, only to end up stopping the recording right there and then. He stands up, opens a drawer, and pulls out a couple of handguns. Having loaded both, he puts one in the holster and another behind his back. For one last time, the detective turns back to the table. He picks up a half-empty glass of whiskey and downs it in one go before putting it right back in the same spot.

With the slow, dark noir jazz still playing at the other end of the room, the detective puts on his raincoat and leaves right through the door. In this depressing darkness, the car engine can be heard inside through the wide-open window - this time, starting from the very first try.

The rain keeps on pouring as Axel drives off to finish the act that was never supposed to be started.