Eddie Munson - One Shots II

005. Looking for Knives.

January 1928.

Some would say, what a time to be alive.

Dancing, gin, the roaring 20's, full of prospects and new things, cars and diamonds.

And gangsters.

Some more known than others.

The Munson's, well, what time it was to be alive, for them.

Horses, cargo, boats, cars, pubs, imports, exports, guns, fixed racing bets, houses, you name it.

You named it, the Munson's had it.
The head of the family was both feared and revered, dependent on who you asked.

Then there was the girls.
The girls, who sold their bodies for cash, secrets, information, diamonds, a mercy on a month's rent, or just as a side hustle from their day jobs.

I wasn't one.
But I knew plenty who were.

It both daunted me and it made me uncomfortable.

Speaking of me, who was I, you asked?

An only child, mother passed when I was seven, raised from then by my father, Ian.

Ian Shelby.
And dear Ian was also a gangster.

When he'd passed from a whiskey induced heart attack at the grand old age of 52, I'd attended his packed out funeral and his rather sparse will reading.

To find I had been left everything.
Every single fucking thing.

The houses, the protection assets, guns, diamonds, cash for days, and the family name.

But I had never had a need for it, until he'd passed. From that day it had become a sudden obligation to keep his legacy going, just on the side from what I had wanted to do with my own life.

My dream was central.
My father's legacy walked alongside it.

I didn't fear nor revere the Munson family; I'd grown up with them on the same streets, from little boys to young men.

Somehow, playing together as kids meant that the fear everyone had didn't and hadn't come naturally to me.

"I can't believe this, he's totally stood me up."

I snapped from my thoughts, Sabine, my lifelong friend pouting next to me, clearly a little upset.

"I mean it is still quite early." I argued, eyeing the clock on the wall.

"And he's late already." She huffed, as I relented.

"If it's any consolation, you have me for the evening." I said, as the regret washed over her face.

"I'm sorry. Of course I do, I know that." She said, as I chuckled softly.

"None taken." I remarked.

"I mean, it could be a lot worse." I added, as she eyed me with curiosity.

"Oh?" She inquired.

"Yeah, he could be here, looking completely bored and brooding like that guy over there." I said, nodding ahead of us.

She scoffed and sipped at her champagne.

"That's because it's Edward Munson. And that's how he always is. Never smiles, always broods." Sabine said.

"Which is just one of many reasons to stay away." She added.

"I have lived here all of my life, you do realise that don't you? We all grew up together at one time, and then we all stayed where we were, whilst they just kept going up and up, onward, upwards, forwards. Now, they have money and fingers in every dirty pie across the city." I said.