Tri-City Sting

Ten - Frank

Officer Bates had obviously not known who Frank Mooney was, otherwise the copper would not have dared to stop by Frank's home and interrogate him with questions. Frank had seriously considered nailing the man right to his parlor floor and cutting his tongue out, right then and there, but that would have been the easy thing to do. Instead, Frank took the challenge of forcing Bates to the dark side, his side, just as he had with all of the other officers down at city hall.

He had completely forgotten to thank Betsy for covering for him to the officer, not that it was needed, but oh well, he had thanked Betsy enough with his cock, which she had taken with pleasure. Frank started to wonder if Betsy had fallen for him, as many of his whores did, those gold diggers. Many of his women would fawn over him, thinking he would buy jewels and furs for them and that they would be the woman of a rich and powerful man. Woman were so fucking foolish... and now they could vote.

It would be annoying if Betsy had a thing for him, but he couldn't help but to smile in satisfaction at having another person entirely under his thumb. She had already proven that she would lie for him when she had told Officer Bates an alibi for the night his delivery was stolen. He had indeed been at the newspaper during the shootout, but Betsy had lied saying he had been working when he had actually been enjoying the services of Betsy herself. Then again, he thought, perhaps she had covered for herself, rather than for him.

That hadn't stopped the officer from showing up at his house in the Highland Park District that morning to interrogate him further. The Sherriff and Commissioner were both frequenters of Frank's gambling hall and the former to his brothel, so it would have been just as easy to put the new badge in his place but Frank had instead wanted to force this new cop in town to see his rightful place, which could only be done by experiencing a small taste of what Frank could do. He would start small, just exposing a tiny bit of his power, but he was not beneath exposing the full extent of his authority. So Frank had sat with the man in his parlor, planning out his scheme while he provided half-ass answers to Officer Bates' inquiries, all the while wondering about how to get some of his own answers.

Who was the Scorpion? The only thing he had to go by was a neighborhood, and a not even a real name. And what was this person doing with all of his Opium? Frank wondered momentarily if his men had gathered to thwart him, but then dismissed it. He kept most of his men separated for a reason, and in constant fear as well. He did not think any of them would cross him, and they could not have gathered for a scheme like that without him catching wind of it. Which had left Bybee, the only other person capable of assembling that many for such a risky operation, and most certainly the only other person who would be able to succeed at it. Frank had every intention of finding out who Scorpion was, and he vowed to himself he would bring them down in the most horrific way possible, but first, he had to take care of another small threat that stood in his way.

Frank spat on the ground before entering the two story brick building that housed the newspaper, and other more lucrative, operations. He went straight to the basement where his true business thrived. In Rock Island the underground was actually underground. At the bottom of the stairs there was an entertainment space to the left, complete with small booths and private tables and a stage with an ample dance floor in front. The younger crowd tended to gather in this room, dancing the night away to the sounds of Jazz. To the right was the gambling room, complete with cards, roulette, craps, you name it. This room was mostly filled with politicians, policemen, government officials, and every fucking poor bloke desperate to make a quick buck. Then there was the exclusive back room behind the gambling floor for the most loyal of patrons. This was where the brothel flourished and where Frank was headed just then.

He passed the dark carpeted gambling floor, tipped his hat at the commissioner and then was stopped momentarily by the treasurer who wished to discuss some fudging of the books that should not be discussed out in the open. Then finally, after telling the drunk treasurer they would discuss such matters at a more appropriate time, he was through to the back room.