Page 44 of Prohibited

“Well, what other grand, genius theories have you come up with, Lieutenant?” Stanley was getting that dangerous tone in his voice. Colder and colder. His temper was not hot. It was icy, so cold that it burned. “Unlike you, I’ve been turning this town upside down. I have guys looking everywhere. Making inquiries. Bribing people. Offering a reward. And you, you have nothing. You are doing nothing.”

Roberts started to open his mouth to retort when they were interrupted.

“You’ve got some visitors.” It was Stanley’s right-hand man, Andrews, stepping through the door of the parlor. He was bigger than Stanley and his face was a lot more scarred and grizzled. Stanley inspired a specific type of spine-tingling fear, but Andrews was the sort of guy you didn’t want to get into a fist fight with. He gave off a strong energy of pure, brute strength with seething anger boiling just below the surface.

“Show them in.” Stanley didn’t get up or move or otherwise indicate that he was about to receive someone into the room. He just went on smoking his cigar in a manner that Roberts would have described as moody if hedidn’t know any better. Stanley was not the sort of person typically disposed toward moods.

Andrews returned a moment later with a tall, plain, pink cheeked young man with a black eye and a swollen lip, and another young fellow named Jerry who ran errands for Stanley sometimes.

“Who’s this?” Stanley asked in a soft, raspy voice. He took a puff of his cigar, eyeing the unknown young man with only the vaguest of interest.

“This is Simon,” Jerry said. The young man fiddled his wool cap, held in front of him, with white-knuckled hands. He was clearly terrified of Stanley and Roberts couldn’t blame him. “He works for the Lockwood brothers.”

“Brother,” Stanley said without any emotion.

Christ.

“Yeah, him,” Jerry said, his face reddening. “Anyway, he has some–”

“I came for the reward,” Simon said, stoutly. Trying to look brave, though he obviously had the sense to be very wary of Stanley.

“Did you?” Stanley studied him with a touch more interest. “And what do you offer in return?”

“I know where they’re keeping her,” Simon said. “That Evelyn broad.”

Roberts’ eyes snapped to Stanley, but he still did nothing to betray an ounce of emotion.

“Where?”

“A-Are you–” Simon stammered. “Uh, the money–” Trying so hard to play it cool and failing.

Stanley put his cigar between his lips and slowly stood. He walked to a beautiful antique landscape painting and pulled it away from the wall, revealing that it was carefully secured with hinges. Behind it, a safe was set into the wall. They all watched in tense silence as Walter Stanley spun the dial with deft fingers. The sound of the bolt drawing back in the lock made Roberts flinch.

Jesus, he was getting skittish.

Stanley put his hands into the safe, producing muffled shuffling sounds. Then, he turned around, a wad of bills held in his large pale hand. He closed the safe. Lowered the painting back onto the wall.

Something pricked at the back of Roberts’ neck. Strange that he would so casually reveal the location of a safe to a stranger.

“A thousand bucks, as promised,” Stanley said. He held the wad firmly in his hand as he approached Simon, stopping only an arm’s length away from him. Roberts did not miss how the young men took just half a step back.

“Tell me what you know and it’s all yours,” Stanley said.

“They’re holding her at the speakeasy,” Simon stammered, though he straightened up taller, perhaps trying to redeem himself for his show of fear. “The Red Crystal, downtown.”

The tiniest hint of Stanley’s icy temper began to flicker in his eyes. “And what are they doing to her?”

“N-Nothing,” Simon said. “I don’t think so anyway. Just holding her. I don’t know why. They’re just keeping her. Not doing anything. Just waiting for something.”

“Why are you turning against them now?” Stanley asked, taking a leisurely puff on his cigar. “Your employers?” He gestured to Simon's face. "They do this to you?"

“I– I–” The young man’s cheeks turned bright red. “We had a disagreement.”

“Over what?” Stanley made no move to hand the money over. The young man’s eyes darted to the wad of cash and he swallowed.

“I– She, uh, she took an interest in me and they didn’t like that.”

A muscle beneath Stanley’s eye twitched but he did not otherwise exhibit any emotion. Still, that one twitch made Roberts cold down to his toes.

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