The Briefcase- Meeting Miss. Fortune

I never really liked going to big celebrations much. Not because I don't like people, I just have fairly tight boundaries that crowded places tend to overstep. Hence why I look somewhat out of place in this former speakeasy. Now that Prohibition has ended, the owner didn't need to hide the booze he's been stacking for the past few years. Additionally, since he had to get rid of it all before it goes bad, the prices were as low as they could go. This caused the place to be crawling with customers from all walks of life, from all parts of the city, congregating to get their share of the liquor.

But what makes the situation most unbearable for me wasn't the people. No, it was that my childhood friend knows this and decided to bring me here anyway.

"Another round on us!" he exclaimed, soon being accompanied by a great chorus of cheers from our fellow patrons.

"Another round on you, not me." I mumble, but my irritated response didn't throw Jackie off for a moment.

"Even when the good times role, you're still a glum? Lighten up! We're r-" he barely muffled the last word before my hand cupped tightly over his mouth.

"I'm gonna give you the low down on our situation, since your genius mind has sent you up in the clouds." I whisper to him as I remove my hand, "First off, we ain't rich. We didn't discover a new mine somewhere and we ain't invent anything like the Rohwedder fella."

"I still can't believe he got rich off of sliced bread of all things." Jackie gripped "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because your you." I countered, "Now pay attention. We don't have a consistent source of income to start living large so we ain't the new butter and egg men of this side of Chicago. We're just two Joes, living in the middle of our nations greatest economic crisis, that found a briefcase with cash and a little black book with a bunch of numbers."

"Still better off than most of the mooks walking around here though." he boasted, as he chugged down some bathtub gin.

"Not if you spend it all to high Hell." The irritation in my voice starting to rise. "We got to use it wisely, invest in something that will -"

"Yeah, yeah I hear you Wall Street." Jackie replied mockingly while waving a dismissive hand. "Invest into something that will generate more money to keep fun times going, right?"

"That," I say, looking down into my own cup, "and doing so in such a manner that keeps us out of the general publics notice." I didn't hear a witty remark so I look up at him, only to see a confused expression on his face. I let out a sigh before giving an explanation. "If we, some barley average nobodies, suddenly showed up anywhere and started blowing greens like we have thousands to spare, may attract some...unwanted attention."

"You think I'm putting a target on our backs?" he asked, with a half-hearted tone of being offended. "What kind of characters we talkin? Coppers? A shamus? A grifter?"

"A mobster." I added, "Anything is on the table. Since the briefcase didn't have an owners name." I turn around in my bar stool to survey the room, as I can't help the feeling of being watched. "If someone like that finds out we've been blowing their cash, I wouldn't expect them to be so merciful."

I turn my head to see Jackie wearing a somewhat distraught expression at the possibility of wasting a mobster's money on cheap booze.

"Well that just dampened my mood," he said under a mumbled breath "You suffering from SAWS?"

"Sauce?"

"Sourpuss And Wet-blanket Syndrome." He clarified with a light chuckle, "I hear the doc's number one prescription is booze, a pretty dame and a good time."

I role my eyes at his obvious attempt to brighten the mood, at least for his own sake. "Just seeing all the options, good and bad."

"Yeah, see, I would believe you," he began, "but you only fixate on the negative. I mean look at what we found, 20,000 clams!"

"Yeah, during a economic recession where every dollar counts. There's no way that someone who loses that kind of green will just say 'Oh well!'"

"Yeah well, you know what I say!?" he whispered a bit harshly, "Finders. Keepers.".

"I stand by what I said before. Someone will come looking for it. Regardless if they are the original owner or not." I say with a level of certainty.

"See!" Jackie exclaims, unintentionally grabbing the attention of some fellow customers. He turns to them and gives an apologetic smile and wave before returning to face me. "You always gravitate towards the negative!" He said, with a much quieter tone, "Take a load off, enjoy the scenery or something. And for the love of God would you stop drinking that city juice!?"

"What's wrong with drinking water? Don't tell me they started a prohibition on that now?" I reply, dripping with sarcasm.

"Your a lost cause." Jackie says, with a deep sigh. He swirls around in his chair to take in the scene. "I just- I just want to enjoy a little bit of the niceties of life, you know?" He says with a defeated tone.

I look at him with a string of sympathetic. I couldn't really blame him for wanting a sliver of the glamor life, especially considering our rather... low class upbringing. As different as we are, Jackie and I have the same goal. 'Leave what we had and to find something better', that's our little motto when either of us want to quite.

'Maybe we did find something better.' I think to myself.

As I lazily look over the room, my attention is gripped by a woman sitting a couple of tables adjacent to the bar counter. She wears a small tilt hat with netting sitting on top of a straightened brunette bob-cut just resting at the shoulders. Her make-up is light, except for the heavy layer of dark red lipstick. Around her slender neck are an assortment of pearls, each varying in different lengths. Her clothing of choice is a simple black slip dress, with an accompanying overcoat hanging off her chair.

The most striking thing about her, however, were her eyes. Their grey-blueish color gave off an ominous yet inviting allure to her overall appearance. She was captivating to so the least, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation.

"Jeez, you look absolutely smitten with the dame. Stare any longer and your blinkers will blow out." Jackie's taunting voice snaps me back to reality. As I pull my eyes from her to look at him, I see a jeering smile to match. "If you wanna make another impression besides 'awe struck schoolboy', why not go cut a rug with her? The band looks like they're setting up to play a few swings, plus she doesn't seem to have a date."

I look to see the staff are moving some of the seats to make a makeshift dance floor as the band gets up on stage.

"You know that I'm a dead hoofer." I say with a mumble. "Me and dance are as compatible as a cat taking to water." I hear a slight chuckle coming from my long time friend, never reluctant to laugh at my self directed insult.

"Well then kind sir," he says, suddenly taking up a poorly imitated posh Southern accent, "will you allow me to act in your stead?".

I role my eyes and give him the go ahead, mostly because I think he's going to be rejected. Much to my surprise, he isn't, and they head to the dance floor as the band starts playing the latest tunes.

*

After around 45 minutes or so on the floor Jackie brings her over to our spot and introductions are made.

"Abigale, this is my long time friend, Thomas. Thomas this is Abigale Fortune." Jackie said with a smile. The woman, now named Abigale, gave me a quick look over and gave a soft smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Thomas." she said with a serenading voice.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ms. Fortune." I say in return.

"So listen," Jackie began to say, while rubbing the back of his head. "Ms. Abigale's brother was supposed to pick her up later but she wants to leave sooner. You think she can come by our house and call him to pick her up from there?"

I felt a bit skeptical at first, still unable to shake of the feeling got from those eyes. 'Well, mama always said to help a lady in need.' I reasoned, "Sure."

The walk over was rather short and uneventful, as we lived less than a block away. Jackie being Jackie, still tried to keep conversation with any booshwash he could think of. As we walked, I started to feel like we were being watched again. I frequently look back as we went, but I didn't see anything.

We approached our apartment, in a rundown building that only men like us could afford. I look to Abigale to gauge to reaction, only to find a face of mild indifference. We took the elevator to the second floor and reached the apartment. We enter and show her the phone resting on a table in the kitchen. Next to it, I notice, was the little black book.

'Ah, forgot to put that away.' I lightly scolded myself. As I approached to pick up, Maria had reached it first and opened it. The reaction she gave was rather odd. Her eyes widened slightly, like she knew what it was she was holding. Before I can ask anything about it, she hands the book to me with an apologetic look.

"Sorry, mother always said that I'm a bit nosey."

"No worries." I tell her. As I take it back from her and head to my room, I couldn't help but get my brain working. I take my time to find a good place to hide it, as her expression earlier all but put my suspicions into overdrive. After it was safely secured, I headed to the restroom to freshen up before heading back out front.

By the time I come back, she had made the call and was siting by the phone, idly playing with her pearls. I also noticed she had a cigarettes holder in her hand.

"Land lord said smoking isn't allowed in here." I said dryly. She looked at me with what looked like annoyance, and started twirling it absent mindedly as we waited.

"Brother should be here in a bit." she said without eye contact.

"Oh, he live close?" Jackie asked, eager to keep the conversation going.

"Fairly close." was all she said. There was a moment of awkward silence since Jackie didn't really know how to carry a conversation from there. I was no conversation started to begin with so we simply sat in silence. Then, suddenly, a loud bang was heard coming from our door.

"Closer than we thought, huh?" Jackie said cheerfully, though a little startled by the noise.

"I'll get it." I said, a little peeved. Who the hell does brother think he is? I walked over and opened the door to give him a piece of my mind, only to feel cold metal press against my forehead. When I had opened the door, I expected to come face-to-face with someone, but it ended up being face-to-gun. The man holding said gun was accompanied to several more men strapped and ready to shoot.

The gunman directly in front of me noticed my mortified expression and smiled.

"I'm here to pick up my sister."

CONTINUED IN: THE BREIFCASE- ENTERING THE FOLD