FicWad

I walked into the speakeasy to have my senses immersed with cigar smoke, gorls dancing, booze everywhere, mobsters playing poker. I wasn't here for pleasure, oh no. I was here on business. There were a select few men in this hole in the wall, ruffling some feathers further downtown at the station. I've got some big fish to catch. The first is Patrick "Tricks" Stump. He's two tables away, his hat intentionally casting a shadow to hide his face. Tricks wears all white excluding a red tie and band around his hat, his trademark. Tricks got his girls crowded round with his best poker face on. Up on stage there's a cabaret show. Men drooling over their dollars, staring. Taking my compact from my hand bag, I "check my lipstick". Really, I'm using it to scope the room, for the other boys I gotta bust. None in sight. I look Tricks' way, who winks and gives me a cigar mouth smile. I smile back. Being undercover you gotta blend in, can't be suspicious. Which isn't hard for me. I grew up here. I'm a Chicago girl. Born, raised and proud of it. I've been workin undercover for a year now. Havin' a place of your owns, it pays the bills good. I ran away from the orphanage my biological folks dumped me at, and found a friend to live with. It was her daddy who got me into police work, he taught me everything I know. He was shot two months ago. One of these boys might be a suspect. This is my first big case. I saw a waiter walk my way.
"Compliments of the man in white." He set down a drink. Tricks caught my eye once more. I mouthed a smiling thank you. This was a good hook. He's the biggest fish I gotta catch. I also have Joseph "The Baker" Trohman. He's from the Jewish end of the mafia. They call him The Baker for his love of burning victims and /or buildings severely. Then ya got Peter "King Lew" Wentz. He's infamous for traffickin whores and cocaine. Last but not least, there's Andrew "Dig" Hurley. Dig's new. He's an outsider from Milwuakee. Hurley got his name being a well known hitman. Dig willingly digs an open grave and places the victim there. Their faces are beaten to be unrecognizable. Sitting here, all I can see is Tricks shooting one second stares, hearing the hum of the base being plucked, the keys of the piano. I see he finished his game. He won of course. Noticing him give his girls the boot, he spoke to me.
"Hey yo sweetheart!" he drawled.
"Those lips talkin to me?"
"Come sit will ya?" He gestured to his table. I made my move and sat across from him, smoothing my dress beneath me, crossing my legs.
"Like the drink?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"I haven't seen you here before."
"First time."
"Ahh, got a name dollface?"
"Rose."