It’s a dark and stormy friday morning as Joseph
William McLaran walks down 27th ave in Gravesend, New York. Joe always takes walks back in forth with his old army trench coat thinking about how he could have done something different and not become a P.I and usually smokes a cigar when it’s not raining of course. But today he forgot his cigars. Every time he walks he walks by Mike’s Old Town Tavern which Joe regularly goes too, Dave’s Delicatessen, and The Soup Kitchen. Joe has an office on the corner of 27th ave and Harway Ave. His office is on the second floor of Price Apartments. Mrs Price is a 83 year old woman who bought this crappy old apartments, fixed them up and rented them out.
Joe and his good friend Margret Moss started a P.I business together because their was no work in New York so they took the money they had left to rent this place out.
“Ah Mr. McLaran how are you today?” Mrs Price asked with out looking up from her book .
“Hello Mrs. Price I’m fine how are you today?” Joe asks quickly, he forgot too pay the rent.
“Do you know what today is?”
“No I don’t, what are you reading?”
“It’s rent day and I’m reading Of Mice and Men.”
“I will have the money buy the end of the day”
“Yes Mrs. Price”
Joe walks up the old creaky stairs up onto the second were his office is. Joe pulls the keys out of his dark green trench coat and finds a rusted old key.
“Hello, Joe” George, the short, old fat guy who lives next door too Joe who always accuses Joe of stealing his things.
“Hello, George what did you lose today?”
“I didn’t lose anything Joe you stole my wallet!”
“No, no I didn’t because I was drunk last night because well dammit I wanted a drink and then another 5 ok so I never stole anything now nor have I ever stole anything you have accused me of ever.” Joe replied with anger.
“Ok, ok Joe but I have my eye on you ok.”
“Sure whatever.” Joe says in a careless tone as he walks into the his office. It’s a nice place, it’s cleaner than most it’s a two room apartment with brick walls with cream plaster and hard wood floors. “Hello Margret, how are you this fine morning?” Joe asks cheerfully as he shuts the door behind him.
“Hello Joe, did you forget your cigars?” Margret asks sternly. Margret Moss, once a high school teacher now secretary for Joe is a tall, strict person who has a knack at getting you to do as she says.
“No I came here… yeah I forgot them.” Joe tries to hide that he forgot his cigars but fails.
“Your cigars are in your drawer and someone called Mike, Michael…”
“Wait his name is Mike Michael?”
“No, his name is Michael… ah Jones.”
“He said something about meeting you at the Coney Island Lighthouse at 6:30, 6:45 something like that.”
“What time is it now?”
“You know you have a watch, right?”
“Yeah it’s 5:55 now so I better get moving…”
“Oh he also said it would be dangerous.”
“Did he say too bring a gun?” “No he said it was dangerous.”
“Do you think I should bring my revolver?”
“I don’t know you probably should he said it was dangerous, and he had no reason too lie.”
“That’s why I hired you!”
“To tell you whether or not too bring your revolver?”
“No, to think things logically!”
“Because you can’t?”
“No…” Joe says as he runs into his office. He opens his drawer and rummages around for a bit until he finds his Colt Police Positive Special. He checks the six round chamber for bullets
“God Dammit, out three bullets!” Joe mutters under his breath angrily. He quickly rummages around again and find the three bullets he need and 13 extras.
“…no I can’t Margret, bye!” Joe yells as he grabs his hat, coat and runs out the door. Joe runs into George.
“Hey Joe I never saw anything I swear just don’t shoot me!” George shouts in fright.
“George, what the hell I’m not gonna shoot you somebody needs help and they said it might be dangerous!
“Bring a pistol dangerous!”
“That’s dangerous!” George yells as Joe runs down the old creaky steps.
“I told you not too run down those stairs I’m getting them fixed in a few days, where are you going?” Mrs Price asks.
“Ok Mrs Price, someone called!” Joe yells as he runs out the door.
“So you got a client!”
Joe starts running down Harway as the car goes zooming by. He runs past Bay 46th and 47th street. He stops too catch his breath and starts to run again
“Oh wait 28th street!” Joe as he takes a sharp right. He all the way down 28th street and accidentally crashes into a group of English guys.
“Bloody hell mate watch where your going mate!” The taller one shouts at him.
“Sorry I’ll look next time!” Joe yells out as he is 400 feet behind them.
“Listen mate your dead!” The redhead yells at Joe
“Could I be dead in like an hour please thank you!
“I should probably call a cab… taxi… hey yeah you!” Joe says too himself as he reaches the end of 28th street.
“Get in” The taxi cab man shouts at Joe
“Thanks, can you get to Seagate in 20 minutes?
“You give me 2.50.”
“Alright, sit tight!”
The driver swerves around the car and front of them dodging every car that gets in front of them. He drifts and turns and makes it their just in time.
“Alright that will be 2.50.”
“…Keep the change.” Joe gives him a 5 dollar bill as he stumbles out of the car. The taxi driver speeds off.
“Ok that was possibly one of the greatest things… I have ever seen.”
Joe says in amazement. Joe sees a ship out on the coast with little row boats going to and from the bigger ship back to the shore caring crates.
“I wonder what’s in those crates I better take a closer look.” Joe says too himself as he hides behind the lighthouse. He walks ever so slowly too not be seen buy the tall guard with a Chicago Typewriter or Tommy Gun. Joe stealths up behind the guard and puts him in a choke hold.
“Ok drop the gun!” Joe yells in a whisper.
“Ok, ok.” The guard drops the gun
“Ok so are you Michael Jones?” Joe asks.
“Michael who the hell is Michael?” The guard asks. Joe knocks him out cold.
“Well your clearly not Michael.” Joe says after dropping the unconscious body of the guard into some bushes behind the lighthouse
“But I am.” Michael Jones replies. Joe quickly turns around and points his revolver at Michael
“Whoa put the gun down are you Joseph McLaran?” Michael asks calmly.
“Yeah (Putting the gun away) you must be Michael, right?” Joe asks.
“Yup, so you’re early.”
“A little, what do they have in those crates?”
“That’s what I was calling you about, those crated are full of Tommy Guns, rifles, pistols anything you can imagine.”
“Yes a Renault FT light tank.”
“Really, they are the weapons that are going too be used in the next mobster war.”
“Sarbello Alvey a Italian major during World War 1 and Velkan Movila a Romanian immigrant now turned mob boss.”
“Really, who is supplying all this equipment?”
“Some say it’s some offshore weapons maker, or someone in New York or the one that I think is the chief of police Henry Jackson.”
“Henry Jackson, he can’t be.”
“It is I see him down here all the time he talks to some officer in full uniform.”
“It could be a Nazi officer supplying the weapons.”
“How could you… wait actually that does make sense.”
“The Nazis want too take over the world that is a known fact, so if they put New York in turmoil they will be able too take New York in a matter of days!”
“We need too stop them”
“Indeed my… slightly younger than me friend, we must stop them!”