Sax and police sirens. “Ain’t this a swell night, detective?” A lady in red greeted me with a puff from her slender pipe. The blares of ambulances echo from outside the jazz bar. “I rather not talk to black widows when I see them, Ms. Moretti.” Turning away, I sipped my cranberry glass. “The name’s Sofia. I see the two of us know something we shouldn’t.” Another slow puff of smoke. The flashes of red and blue pierced the cold mist. “Nineteen… Twenty…” The bodies just kept coming.
“You don’t seem to enjoy my work.” Now, a sip of whisky after a small puff. It made me furrow my brow. About a thousand rounds spent by the hour… “Now, don’t be mad, detective. I was only doing some redecorating.” Clangs of handcuffs softly rang as she shook her hand, tugging on mine. “No room in wagon yet for little old me, detective?” I could hear her pout.
The saxophones and contrabass began to drown out the screams and rain. “Need I remind you of your right to remain silent, Ms. Moretti?” I finally faced her again. “Need I remind you that it’s Sofia, detective?” She played with the curls of her hair. Chief Rizzo better gives me a raise for this. “Alright, Sofia. There. Are we done now?” A smile beams from lips as crimson as her dress. “Thank you, detective.”
It began to feel like a small eternity. What’s taking that old bag so long? The ten cops in this bar won’t stop her. “Johnny, ain’t it? Hmmm… Thank you for taking care for big sister Aurora. Maybe that’s why she asked you to go after me.” An uninvited whisper graced my ear. “Aren’t you sick of talking already?” I could only muster an annoyed glare. “Not to you.”
An armored car finally drudged itself up to the door. “There. A wagon just for you.” I pointed as I picked up my hat. She gave only a cheery chuckle.
Pipe in hand, Ms. Moretti was cuffed to the inside of the wagon. She waved and smiled while the door was closed and locked shut. As the wheels rolled away – off to the station, a thought came to my mind. Hang on… She never drinks whisky. Peering into my hat, I saw a note that was pinned on the inside.
‘Nice try, Johnny. Send my regards to Chief Aurora Moretti Rizzo.’
“Sergeant Hawkins!!! You’re in-charge. Fletcher! Clarkson! Grab a patrol car! That wagon won’t make it to the station. Now!” I ran. I wanted to scream.
She slipped away yet again…
to paint the town red another day.
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