"The Day of the Silent Death" by: Derrick Ferguson

"The Day of the Silent Death"

A Fortune McCall in Sovereign City Adventure

by: Derrick Ferguson

PRO SE PRESENTS Fantasy and Fear #3



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EXCERPT:

Sovereign City, 1935

The First Amalgamated Savings and Trust Bank

1.

It had been said for many years that The First Amalgamated Savings and Trust Bank is the only bank in the Unites States that one would rather dine in rather than do business. And that sentiment is well deserved. Tourists to Sovereign City visited the bank in record numbers as the interior reminded one more of a grand building of the Italian Renaissance rather than that of a financial institution.

On this particular morning, the bank was unusually busy, even more so than usual for a Monday. The bank guards nodded pleasantly at familiar customers that queued up to conduct transactions or were ushered to the desks of various bank officers. There was certainly nothing different or unusual in anything any one did.

When the first body dropped to the Cosmatesque floor, two of the bank guards quickly moved in to give aid to the young woman that lay as still as if she’d been shot in the head.

“What do you think is wrong with her, Joe?” the younger bank guard asked his older co-worker.

“Dunno, Smitty. Do I look like a doc to you? I hope she’s just fainted. Maybe she didn’t eat breakfast. Help me get her to the break room and we’ll call- “Joe Burke stopped as several more bodies dropped. Hearing meaty thuds and thumps behind him, Joe Burke turned to see even more bank customers and employees dropping to the floor as if some celestial hand had flicked their OFF switches.

“What the-“Joe Burke started to say but stopped as Smitty also fell. Joe Burke dropped to one knee, feeling for a pulse. Smitty had none. Neither did the young woman. They were dead. Just that fast.

Joe Burke stood up slowly. Dead bodies surrounded him. Dozens of them. On the floor, slumped over desks. In the space of a little over a minute, everybody in the bank was dead. Except for Joe Burke. Who now was the only living person in the building. Seemed like as good a time as any to go insane.

So that’s exactly what Joe Burke did.

Ж

The Chrysler Airflow Sedan stopped at the police barricade set up a full city block away from the bank. The police were taking extraordinary methods of crowd control and with good reason. This was an extraordinary crime. Enough that word had spread and the mob gathered behind the barricade had grown to alarming numbers. Family members that had loved ones who worked in the bank or did business there came from all over the city to find out for themselves what was going on.

The Chrysler parked right next to a small fleet of police cars as if it belonged there. The thick necked copper who bustled up to the driver’s side bellowed; “get this thing outta here! Police only parking! Your boss ain’t doin’ no bankin’ here today!”

The driver, who looked barely old enough to drive, jerked a thumb over his shoulder at his unseen passenger. “My boss isn’t here to do banking. He’s been asked to help in the investigation by Mayor Byles himself. So if you’ll just move that barricade-“

“I’m not movin’ anythin’!” the copper shouted wrathfully. “If your boss is who I think he is then he can get out and walk to the crime scene like the rest of us!”

The driver started to say something but the cultured, resonate voice from the back said calmly; “Don’t, Ronald. It is well. Tracy and I can walk. You stay here with the car and we’ll meet you back here when our business here is done.”

The rear door opened and a rapier thin man of average height climbed out. Handsome and dapper in his black business suit with colorful paisley vest, a black fedora cocked jauntily over one eye. He pointed his walking stick at the copper. “No problem against my man waiting here is there, officer?”

The policeman mumbled something inarticulate and turned away to help his fellow officers keep the rest of the crowd back as the slim man ducked under the barricade and walked toward the bank. A diminutive woman also clambered out of the car to follow him. Dressed in riding jodhpurs, sheepskin aviator’s jacket and aviator’s cap, she looked as if she were ready to jump in a plane and attempt to cross the Atlantic at a moment’s notice. She looked equally ready to jump on the police officer. She caught up to her companion who walked as easily as if he were taking in the afternoon air along Bishop Boulevard and wasn’t on his way to a horrific crime scene.

FINISH THE REST OF THIS EXCITING STORY IN

PRO SE PRESENTS FANTASY AND FEAR #3

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"The Scarlet Courtesan of Sovereign City" by: Derrick Ferguson

"The Scarlet Courtesan of Sovereign City"

A Fortune McCall Tale

by: Derrick Ferguson

PRO SE PRESENTS Masked Gun Mystery #2



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Excerpt:

Once Upon A Time In 1935...

Sovereign City was as good place as New York or Chicago to either hide from enemies or conduct illegal business. The entire city had been corrupt for as long as anybody who lived there could remember, ever since the still unsolved murder of old Gervaise Ravel, the last honest mayor to hold office. Not that Sovereign City was all that bad a place to live in. The schools were nothing to brag about and the rich got richer while the poor stayed poor. But then again, that was pretty much the condition all over the country. The garbage got picked up on time and the graft got paid. So all in all, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

The collection of clip joints, bars and warehouses along the waterfront were alight with the usual unsavory motley polyglot of rogues despite the fact that the sun had gone down not more than a short hour ago. Some of the buildings looked as if they were only being held together by a heavy coating of grimy filth. The windows let in little light and considering the kinds of transactions going on inside, it was better that way.

The man sitting at a back booth of The Alabaster Flask had a stylish storm cloud grey Fortier fedora pulled low over his forehead, a calf-length trench coat the exact same shade as his hat covering his black tie evening suit. He poured himself another shot of blended whisky from the bottle at his elbow and eyed the entrance warily. He plucked back the cuff of his black Italian kidskin leather glove to look at the Swiss Army Infantry watch on his left wrist. His contact was fifteen minutes late. I’ll give him another five minutes and then-

The main door of the establishment swung open and conversations in the room briefly dropped to a rumbling hush as hands went to guns, no matter if they were openly holstered or hidden. The newcomer was surveyed and since he owed no one there money or hadn’t produced a weapon of his own, he was not shot and he walked on to the booth in the back.

“You’re late, Korbel.”

Anton Korbel shrugged. “For what I have, you would have waited.”

The man toyed with his shot glass. “And what exactly is it that you have?”

Korbel sat down, amusement on his swarthy face. “Ah, my friend, this is not how Anton Korbel works. You have something to show me first, do you not?”

The man held up a thick envelope. “Your money is in here. Five thousand dollars. But you don’t get it until you answer a few questions.”

Korbel shrugged. “Maybe I can, maybe I can’t. Ask.”

“There’s a woman I am looking for. A woman who is very important to me. I want her back. I want to know who has her. I want you to tell me. Do so and you will have made an easy five thousand dollars.”

Korbel looked impatient. “Let us be frank with each other, okay? I agreed to meet with you because I thought I could make some quick money. But the people behind your friend disappearing are too powerful for me to monkey with. You haven’t been here in Sovereign that long so you don’t know who you’re playing with.”

The man shrugged and sighed. He leaned forward. “Korbel. Listen to me carefully and closely. Because I need you to understand that I mean what I say. I’m prepared to do some seriously impolite atrocities upon your person if that will help get my friend back. I implore you not to force me to have to resort to such uncivilized behavior.”

Korbel’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any larger. “I had heard you were a most reckless and foolish young man. Now I suppose we will have to do this the hard way.” Korbel raised his voice. “Hey! HEY! Listen up, everybody!”

Conversation died as the assemblage of men and women turned to look at Korbel.

“This twit’s got five thousand bucks on him. Anybody who helps me cut it out of him gets ten percent.” Korbel jumped up from the table and backed away, grinning maliciously.

Men shuffled to their feet as knives and machetes, their edges glittering in the dim light were produced. The entrance was slammed shut and secured with a thick wooden bar. Women sensuously licked their painted lips at the prospect of watching murder being done.