Shadows over Lost Heaven

Intermezzo

(1938)

The detective wrapped his hands around his cup of coffee, sipping it slowly. "So that's how a regular palooka goes from a cabbie to a mob enforcer overnight, is it? Just dumb luck?"

"It didn't feel that way at the time... Me, parking on that particular street, taking a break just as Baz and Lewis are coming around the corner? What are the odds? It felt like... I don't know, like someone was watching out for us."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, pal. But it's a lucky break, all the same. I mean, one day you're busting your back doing an honest day's work in a city that's been trying to scrape you off its heel since the day you stepped off the boat. And the next, you're stuffing your pockets full of Fischbach's dirty money, and lording over the rest of us."

"Yeah, it wasn't like that. Back then, Fischbach didn't have the run of the city. For every buck Fischbach made, Don McLoughlin would turn ten. He paid off cops, politicians, and judges. And anyone he couldn't buy, he scared into looking the other way."

"He did seem to have the city jumping at its own shadow, I'll give you that."

Ryan crossed his arms on the table, leaning closer to the other, older man. "Did you hear anything about Logan Paul?"

"Got his name in the McLoughlin file, sure. A boxer, right?"

"Yeah... That's the guy. The way I hear it, Logan was just driving to the gym one morning... Probably daydreaming about winning the belt or something."

...

(1930')

A Ford Model T drove down the street at a low speed, with a muscular man behind the wheel. He stops at a crosswalk to stare at a girl in a red dress. But that was his biggest mistake. From behind, a Mercedes-Benz 54oK Cabriolet crashed into him at full speed. It made the driver fall forward, banging his head. "Goddammit! Moron!"

The driver screamed, climbing out of the vehicle to see the damage. "You driving with your goddamn eyes closed? Look at this!"

He looked up at the other driver when he heard the door opening and his heart nearly stopped, he paled, taking a step back. "Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph... Don... Don McLoughlin. I didn't know it was you."

The Don walked slowly, seemingly calm as he checked over the damage to the cars. "You know anybody else driving a rare import in this part of town, Logan?"

Logan shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. "No. And I'm sorry. I was driving real slow..."

The smaller man looked up, glaring at the boxer. "You saying this is my fault?"

"No! No, no, no, sir. I just..." Logan panicked, raising his hands in surrender as he watched the other man go back to his car. "I just, I ain't- I ain't never been in no accident."

The don opened his truck, looking through the tools. "Well, repairs are gonna be expensive." He said and pulled out a lug wrench.

The boxer frowned as he saw that and looked back to the crashed cars. "You won't be needing that, sir. The tires are just fine. The grills are a little bent up, is all. I got a cousin that can- argh!"

He was interrupted when the said wrench drugged into his head from behind. Don McLoughlin started hitting Logan with the wrench until he fell to the ground. Passersby and a few police officers watched but all of them pretended that nothing was going on...

...

(1938)

Detective Vojta closed his suitcase, throwing it onto the seat with a disgusted face. "Someone spun you a tale, pal. I got an informant right there who says McLoughlin made a mint every time Paul went to the mat."

Ryan nodded, shrugging. "That's true too. And still, McLoughlin left that poor sap dead in the street, head all caved in."

"That doesn't square."

"Maybe the Don knew Logan's career was on the downhill. Maybe he was trying to scare some other guy into paying up. Who knows. Don Fischbach chalked it up to McLoughlin not being able to think straight when he was mad."

"You have any more run-ins with McLoughlin's crew back then?"

Ryan threw the cup of coffee back, downing it, before relaxing into his seat. "Not at first. For a couple of years after I joined up, things were quiet. We got into a few dust-ups with guys trying to muscle in, but otherwise, it was just the usual routine. Running booze, offering protection, me and the boys doing the rounds to collect. Small-time. But I am not gonna lie. Most days, we were also having a bit of fun."