The Sapphire Ring A Henry Morgan short story

Thanks for all the kind words guys uber appreciated. Part 5 is done and being polished and 6 is getting as well as some ideas for the second story "you can't out run a bullet", working title lol. Thanks everyone, espically ,  and 

 

Chapater 5
White as the Driven Snow

That genius mick, he might have it, the cocaine might be the answer. If Juan was into that stuff maybe he sold it to a dealer for cash, maybe he was dealing, maybe he sold it to a supplier. It was as slim as my hips but it was all I had. And if anyone knew were to get ahold of those things you weren't supposed to get ahold of, it was Betty.

I made my way down to the old town along the smooth tarmac to the polished cobblestones. Down to the old French district, every wall covered with ornate fret work, the once luminous paint peeling off in places, the air heavy with the seething smells of life. The story goes that the French part of town was once the home of the finest brothels on the west coast. After the revolution the old French madams made there way here and set up trade servicing the desires of men and women across the state, from the poorest prospector to, rumour has it, a couple of presidents, and supposedly their wives as well.

It had changed alot now, there was still the odd brothel tucked away if you knew who to ask and how. It was mainly clubs and bars now and the old casino with it's doomed roof and grand marble entrance. But if you needed a fix of something, anything, this was the place to come, and Betty was the girl to see.

I walked through the double doors, my feet sinking into the plush carpet, the smell of cigar smoke filled the air mixing as it did with a variety of perfumes. My eyes darted from one girl to the next, everywhere I put my head I saw another beauty, my eyes went from one set of gorgeous eyes to a set of heaving breasts to some bare thigh. Damn, Betty knew how to run her joint. I made my way to the bar and sat on a delicate ornate red cushioned mahogany stall, I swear if Joes had half the class I'd never leave.

"What's it take for a bum to get a drink round here you old so and so." A drunk two seats over shouted.

"For you sugar a lifetime on your hands and knees."

"Listen lady I want a god damn drink and I want it now you hear me."

"Tell you what brother," I said as I turned and looked him down. "You walk out that door now, you say another word and keep stinking the joint up and by the time I'm finshed with you, you'll be picking up the little pices of your skull with tweezers." I looked at him long and hard, he got off his stall and stumbled out the door.

"Still playing at being my body guard sugar," Betty turned to me with a grin. Her curled blond hair framing her face, as warm and tender as the midday sun.

"Ha, you never needed me protecting you Betts you could always do that your self," I said with a laugh. "You just needed my help hiding the bodies."

"Sugar only 'cause I hate to dig." She looked me over with her cocksure smile, she could handle herself our Betts, I saw her break the jaw of an ex wrestler once with a bottle of rum, cause there was more after that and I had to get involoved. For all her strength, her independence and bravado, there was still a touch of vulnerability to her, tucked away in those soft blue eyes. She broke into a chuckle as she poured me a Jake.

"On the house for you gumshoe, now what brings you here?"

"I need something," I sipped the whiskey slowly savouring the taste.

"Dont we all sugar."

"Not like that hun, I need information, I need to know the best place to score some cocaine." As I said this Betty rolled her eyes at me. "Not for me hun, I need to try and find a ring," Betty rolled her eyes at me again, "Look it's a long story, I just thought if anyone knew it would be you."

"Don't worry sugar your secrets safe with me," Betty said with a soft chuckle, "Chinatown is your best place to go, hun see a guy there he's called Kal, he's connected to a couple of dealers, but hun," she said with a worried look in her eyes, "you look law from a mile away, and these chinamen, play nasty and they play for keeps."

"What's he look like."

"Fat bald round chinamen," Betty said

I glaced at my reflection in the mirror. God she was right, I might have handed in my badge years ago but I still looked like a gman. I got up to pay as I pulled my wallet out, Betty gave me a furious look.

"Your money's no good here sugar, you know that, I told you. On the house."

"Thanks Betty," I said as I grabbed my hat and coat and turned to leave. "Don't worry Betty a change of threads and little jewellery and I'll look a different man."

"Hun if I'm right the only jewellery you'll need is a snub nose 38".

 

Chapter 6
Thats chinertown Jake

I got back to my boat it was 11 and the witching hour had set in, the moon hang low and heavy, the stars trickled down upon me a ancient light that took a million Years to reach us, the past visiable in the present.

I changed into the only dandy looking out fit I could come up with. A pink silk shirt and a light gray suit with no pleats, I chuckled to my self a wedding suit I had bought for a past long gone, I topped it off with a pink silk hankie, some horn rimmed shades I had picked up some were tucked into my open neck shirt and and a pair of chesnut sweade broges. I looked quite the dandy, even if I did say so myself I ruffled my hair and made my way to Chinatown. And of course I carried some jerwally, a peal handled 38 special tucked into my trousers waist band at my back.

I got down to chinertown and slowly cruised the streets, we called it chinertown, it was more of a maze, a short shirip of shops selling all kinds of trickets and food from back home, ducks and red tinged pigs hanging outside butchers shops, all kinds of hebalists and quicks, all manner of furniture and Knick knack shops selling anything a chinermen might miss from home. Off the main strip of shops ran a maze of back alleys and side streets. I slowly eased along the highstreet, trying to see my guy kal. Of course I only had half an idea of what I was looking for but that was half the fun.

I got out the car and idealed up the main strip smoking a chesterfield as I did, my nose filled with the smell of ground nut oil, prawn and rice. As I walked down the strip I saw down one of the back alleys a group of guys clustered around a small stocky chinermen, the moon light leaping of his bald head, that had to be my boy if Betty was right.

As I made way to him I saw a couple of people leave tucking White packets similar to the one I found on Juan into there pockets. I casually walked up trying my best to lose my normal hard stread and put a more floppish gate in my walk. My balding chinermen looked up at me.

"hi," I said as casualy as I could as I made my voice a little higher. He looked me With a blank stare. "I was told by a friend of mine Juan that you was the man to see if I wanted to feel good." his left eye twitched as I said that.

"what you looking for buddy", he said in a typical bay city accent.

"some powder."

"You want a little fun time, I got what you need twenty bucks, u want something else I know were u can pick up some fun", he said with a crockered smile, I think I might have over done it with the dandy image.

"Sounds good", as I said this I reached into my back pocket and took out my billfold. "listen speaking of fun u seen Juan anywhere he hasn't returned annnnny of my calls".

"nah haven't seen him in a couple of weeks buddy," he said as he took my cash. His face was twitching all over the place now his hands slightly sweaty. I glaced l around and saw we were by ourselfs. As I put my billfold in to my back pocket I grabbed the gun. In one smooth motion I grabbed our boy by the neck and pushed him against the wall as I did I smashed the butt of the gun down onto the bridge of his nose. The bone and cartilage cracked open instantly as blood began to pour from the cut.

"Your going to tell ne everything you know about Juan, or I'm going start to get really nasty," as I said this I kneed him hard in the balls.

He looked up at me with a fire in his eyes, "take a walk fruit". He obvisouly needed some incourgment I smashed him in the mouth twice hard with the side of the gun.

"spill it".

"Get bent", he said as he spit a couple of teeth at me.

"Wrong answer buddy", I held the gun up to light, snapped open the cylinder, emptied the six rounds and then delibretly and slowly pushed one back in. I snapped the 38 closed again and span the cylinder around. "you gamble buddy," I said as pushed the muzzle against his forehead, "you cut odds, how you fancy 6/1." As I said that I pulled the trigger, the hammer fell on a empty, as the cylinder clicked around. "5/1 now bud, you like those chances".

"you you you," he stammered.

"I will, I would, I could, I have now talk fatty," as I said this I pulled the trigger again, empty. "4/1 those odds are getting shorter, so's my patience."

"I'll talk, you god damned crazy White man", I said nothing as I pulled the hammer back cocking the 38. "Juan was small time he dealt a little, that's all I know".

"horsecrap," I nailed him in the balls hard he bent over double with the pain. I jacked him up by his neck and smashed his head against the wall hard. "wered he cop from."

"Philips his one of the biggest around," the chinaman said as blood poured out his nose and mouth.

"Were can I find Philips."

"I'm dead I tell you."

"Ye dead you don't." I pulled the trigger again empty,kal began to piss himself now the front of his grouses turning dark and wet as his stream hit the fabric. "3/1, I don't like your odds."

"deanersgate by the docks thees a werehouse, the.... Your find hi...." I dropped kal into the puddle he had made for himself.

I raised the gun to the air and pulled the trigger, there was a loud crack as the air filled with the smell of cordite. "Your a damn lucky fat man kal."

 

Chapter 7
Police and Thieves

I got back to the boat, pulled my suit off and slept like the dead. I awoke to the hazy sunlight trickling trough the small round window. I dressed and grabbed my hat, pulling the peak of my fedora low, to shield my bloodshot eyes and made my way to Joes.

In between sips of coffee and bites of toast I snatched up the phone and called MacGready back at the old precinct. If Philips was a big a player and as fear inducing as Kal made out, his reactions indicated so, I needed to know all I could before I stumbled into his back yard.

We set up a meeting for the afternoon, I took hold of the paper and made my way outside sitting at a table drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes as I flicked though the pages. War brewing in Europe, the Yankees on another hot streak, Lewis sweeping his way thorough the division. I put the paper down and closed my eyes, wishing I was somewere else, in another time, wishing I was someone else, someone good, someone true, I wished I hadn't seen the things I'd seen, done the things I'd done. I wished I never had to leave her. Joe prodded me awake. I shaked my self down, clearing the cobwebs from my skull. It was no good pining for a past that was gone kiddo, you got to live the life you got, crumby as it may be, but it's all you have.

MacGready sat behind his desk at the precinct. We had joined the force in the same year and we had the same waist line too. Mine had stayed the same his had grown substantially. His shirt spread across his fat stomach, a large ketchup stain starkly looking up at me. He was everything I hated about the force, corrupt to the core, amiable to hire for any price, no morals, no ethics, just a bully with a badge. That said he had his uses, and one advantage of the corrupt, you can buy them easy.

"Morgan you old salt dog what're you doing back here, didn't we kick you out years ago?" His wide chubby face spread into a grin, MacGready always looked greasy, even straight from the shower he looked like fat oozed from his pours.

"I need some info for a case I'm working on," I said staring into his milky blue eyes.

"Papy I know nothing," he said wiggling his eyebrows.

"I need some info on Phillips, cocaine mover out of Deansgate".

"Never heard of him papy," I
slipped him a double sawback. "Wait now I remember him," he gave me a smile laced in grease. "He got out off the big house about two months back, was in for murder, he got let off on a technicality. Now between you and me papy I know that's bullcrap, he beat some guy to death with a baseball bat. I saw the pictures from the boys in homicide and that kids head was swollon like a balloon. Now those boys know Philips is there man, just couldn't make it stick, lucky for Philips the narcotics business pays, he got him self the best damn lawyer he could and walked." MacGready loved to talk, from what I remembered of our time together in uniform, only two things he liked more food and money. I sat back and listened.

"Anyways, our boy gets out after six months in the slammer and right back into it. The business I mean. He controls almost all the drugs businesses in this city. There's not a ounce of coke, a reefer, or pill sold in this town that hasn't at some time gone through his hands. I know Morgan, I'm sure you're thinking why you've never heard of this guy before, he's so big then how come a connected guy like you only just learnt his name. Papy let me tell you he's one clever cookie our Philips, he runs all his gear through other people, sometimes other, other people". MacGready, then attempted to explain this relatively simple concept, basically he sells to dealers, of course he took alot longer to do this than anyone normal needed.

"So you see it's practically impossible to pin anything on him. You want to hear something funny papy?" I swear I had nearly dozed off at this point.

"Go on", I groggily mumbled.

"His old squeeze is one Miss. Page, the same Miss. Page who is currently keeping one Mister Patrick Preston warm at nights," he roared with laughter at this point, I wasn't so happy, in fact my belly was doing flip flops. I had a sinking feeling in my guts now, like a dead weight thrown over board. Page the one who wanted her ring back was not only the wife of the city's biggest crook, she was the ex of the biggest drug dealer in town as well. I tried to think of a way this could get any worse, and I drew a large zero, and that damned zero looked uncannily like a bullet hole.

 

Chapter 8
On the waterfront

MacGready had given me a mug shot of Philips before I had finally left his office. I drove over to the docks and found his warehouse on deanersgate. The docks area of town had always been a haven for crooks, robbers, smugglers and pirates. During the independence struggle pirates and privateers had operated out of there attacking Spanish and English freighters. There was talk of a Spanish gallon being taking and a hoard of gold so immense it was enough to make the captain king of a small country. The story goes that the gold was too much for the small sloop to take, she sank to the bottom of the ocean, only a couple of mates getting away with their lives and a story to tell. To this day you still get the occasional treasure hunter looking for the sunken sloop.

I walked around the back of the warehouse and circled the red brick structure. I could see no obvious access points as I went around the building. The only way in looked like a might too daring, but it looked like the only way. I climbed up a rickety ladder on the opposite warehouse, the ladder was wood and attached to the wall. It was badly damaged and decaying after years of rain damage. I slowly and carefully made my way up, doing my best to avoid the rotten wooden planks. About ten rungs from the top a plank shattered under my foot, the wood crumbling to dust. I gripped on for dear life, my heart racing a thousand beats a minute.

I finally made it to the top, my legs feeling like jelly as I clung onto the roof for dear life trying to catch my breath. I made my way slowly around the flat roof to the North side. The jump wasn't far to make, a foot or so, but it looked like a giant chasm from up here, espically when you're no fan of heights. I took a run up and jumped.

I thanked those benevolent gods who watched over me as I safely landed on the other side. My legs were just starting to come back to life, almost doing as I told them. As I made my way around the roof, I found just what I was looking for.

There at the far end was a skylight, I jimmied it open and slipped inside and down in to a compact, neat little office. I flicked on my pen light and made a quick search. There was a large open ledger on the table. The names were all written in some kind of code, strange foreign names that made no sense, the numbers made little more sense. However, one thing was clear the numbers were astronomical, money or product moving back and fourth in very big chunks. As I searched the office further I noticed the distinct lack of personal effects, no files or anything else. In a drawer was an automatic and a picture of Page, Philips was obviously still smitten, looking at her face I couldn't blame him.

I made my way out of the office, slowly creeping down the gangwalk and stairs to the main warehouse. There was a couple of parked up trucks, and a bunch of packed crates, emblezzed on the side was a logo and some Spanish writing, I could just make out the words columbian and coffee. I lifted the lid on one of the crates. Inside was packs of fresh coffee, one had split open and there in the middle of this was a well wrapped parcel of white powder. I looked through them, there was at least four parcels in the create, each one was heavy at least the size of a big bag of sugar. Four in a create 50 creates, that was a lot of drugs and a lot of money.

Just then I felt something on the back of my head almost like a pin prick, and then a dull throbbing pain spread across my head. I slowly turned around, my vision blurring as I did. Last thing I remember, is seeing a cloth cap a crowbar and then the world went topsy turvey and I sank to my knees.


There was a cold wet feeling spreading over the top of me as I came too. Then a splash of water and a hard slap across my face.

"You got about ten more minutes left on this plant, you got a god go make peace with them." The voice was heavy with a Boston accent and booming in my ears. Through blinking eyes I looked up to see Philips looking down at me, to his side the young tough in the cloth cap his sleeves rolled up, a snake and dagger running up his arm.

"My god left me long ago," I slurred.

"Lucky you, mine won't stop making me feel guilty," Philips said. In his hand he twisted a small gold crucifix that hung round his neck, he was immaculately dressed in a navy 3 piece suit looking very sharp, even if I did say so. I thought to myself, Morgan least your going to be shot by someone who knows how to dress, at least that's something.

"What the hell are you doing snooping around my lockup, chief?"

"I got lost I was looking for the exit." There was a thund in my gut. And a flash of a dagger tattoo.

"Smart chief, smart, Joey anymore smart answers show our boy what we do. So what you doing in my lock up?"

"I thought it was the local Woolworths." Joey cracked me right in the jaw this time, luckily all my teeth were still in place. Just.

"You're really testing my patience," Philips walked up to me levelled the gun at me pushing the muzzle against my forehead, pushing me back. "You're not police, u have no badge, so there's really no point in me keeping you alive is there?" as he said this he bought the butt of the gun down on my nose, the bone snapping. "One last time who are you?"

"Morgan. Henry Morgan."

"That means diddly to me sailor. Who are you?"

"I'm a private detective." Maybe just maybe I might get out of this alive. "I'm looking for someone, Juan, my client, hired me to find something of their's, he's the only lead I got." I hoped he could put the dots together, that Page was my client and that this might just keep me breathing.

He looked down at me coldly any flicker of emotion left his eyes. "Joey take a walk, you can leave mister Morgan to me."

"Its just Henry," I said blood trickling down my chin.

"Funny guy", Philips said as he cracked his knuckles. "You're looking for a sapphire ring, right mister Morgan?" I looked up at him, my face must have answered for me. "You find it, I'll pay you double what she is, that ring belongs to me and I want it back."

"Fine I find it and the damn thing is yours, things more trouble then it's worth," I said as I spit out a loose tooth.

"That ring is worth more then you could ever imagine, Morgan," he said as he belted me square in the mouth, I felt a couple of teeth loosen, I thanked my gods that it was him not Joey that swung the punch. Why is this damned ring worth so much I thought as I counted the stars swelling around my head. "I've already got one of your kind looking for it, she tells me it can't be found I want that ring back. It's mine and I want it. Understand Morgan?" He was furious now, his face flushed red his kuckles so tense they were as white as the fresh snow.

"I get it back and it's yours mister Philips. And it's just Henry."

He cut me loose and walked out without a word. I scooped up my stuff and stumbled to my car. What was Jenn doing mixed up with this borderline psychotic? Why was this ring so damn important and were the hell was it? My head swirled with questions as I got in to my car and slowly made my way back home. I stepped onto my boat and down to my cabin, I knew she was there before I opened the door, I could smell her perfume as I walked down. And sure enough there sitting in the moon light of the window, sat a serene Miss. Page, smiling her delicate smile at me.

 

Next part be up soon btw gang