Rumrunner

**Chapter Four: Red Rum**

"Err," Argus said.

Aldo moved away from the door, and Argus watched his movements carefully. The gun that had so recently been pointed directly at Argus' head now was dangling loosely in Aldo's large hand. Giulio had lowered his weapon completely, and had tucked it back somewhere inside his jacket.

"Don't be so nervous, boy," said Aldo. "If we kill you, you'll have plenty of advance warning."

Somehow, that didn't reassure Argus as much as it was meant to. He went ahead and asked the question that was bothering him slightly. "What, exactly, does this job entail?"

"Whatever we say," replied Giulio.

"What my cousin means is, you'll be doing a few," Aldo paused for a second before continuing, "odd jobs that we have."

"Odd jobs," Argus repeated. Nods from the two men confirmed this. "The kind of odd jobs I'm used to are painting, fixing fences, and gardening. Things of that like. I'm supposing that these odd jobs are a little different from that?" Argus gave the gun in Aldo's hand a pointed look.

"Well..." Aldo began.

A loud rap on the door stopped the man from telling the rest of the job description.

"What in the blue blazes is going on in there?" The voice sounded vaguely familiar. "I'm not running a meeting house, here."

The voice clicked in Argus' mind as Madame Bella's.

"Shut the hell up, you stupid broad," growled Giulio through the door.

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man," came Madame Bella's brisk voice. There was the jangle of keys, then the door knob jiggled a little bit. "I want you out of my fine establishment."

"Madame, we aren't doing any harm," Aldo said cajolingly.

"I don't give a damn if you were knitting or planning a murder. It's obvious that none of you work here," a glare in Gisella's direction, "and none of my girls are earning any money from your presence. Get out."

"We'll only be a minute longer," said Aldo.

"No, you will be leaving, now. Do I need to call up Johnny?" snapped the old woman.

"Call him," replied Giulio. "I have a few words for that sorry son of a bitch."

Aldo rested his hand on Giulio's shoulder. "Calm down. We're going. Come on."

Argus followed the two out of the room, with Gisella close behind him. He saw her grin surreptitiously as Giulio began a rant about that 'goddamn old biddy.' A few moments later, he found himself just outside the parlour of the brothel. Two nervous-looking young men were now standing in the front of the room, and Argus was struck by how much the scene resembled an auction, though he wasn't quite sure who was being sold. It appeared that only the girls interested offered their names, and the others had quietly migrated to the back of the room. Strange how he hadn't noticed that when he'd been up there.

"Speranza," Giulio said loudly. The dark-skinned whore looked up, and shook her head in an 'I'm busy' manner. Giulio just said, "Get over here."

Speranza got up from her perch on the arm of a high-backed chair, and stalked across the room, and into the hallway. "What?" she snapped.

"Would you be a dear and escort Gisella home? Some unexpected business came up that we have to take care of."

Speranza shot Argus a sympathetic look. "Sure, darling. Come on, Gisella."

"No!" snapped Gisella. "I don't want to go home, and I most definitely do not need an escort."

"Gisella, it's late. Just go home, and we'll be back in a while," Aldo said.

"I'm a grown woman, I can stay out as late as I want," Gisella protested.

"Gisella, if you go home now we'll neglect to mention this entire situation to Icepick. I can't promise that if you don't listen to us, so scram," Giulio said.

Gisella glared, and said, "Fine. Come on, Speranza."

With that, the two young women took off in the other direction, one stalking ahead angrily while the other hurried along after her, heels clicking rapidly against the pavement.

Argus felt compelled to speak. "Who's Icepick?"

"Gisella's fiancé," replied Aldo with a decidedly wicked grin.

"Icepick?" asked Argus, almost positive he didn't want to know.

"His preferred method of getting the job done," replied Giulio.

"Oh," managed Argus. Perhaps that bullet to the head back in the whorehouse would have been the better way to go. No one had mentioned anything about icepicks.

"We'd best get going," Aldo said, walking to a Packard that sat on the curb. Giulio followed closely, but Argus hung back.

"Get over here," snapped Giulio.

"Okay," said Argus, approaching the car. It was large, and looked like all the other cars along the street. However, he was not being encouraged to climb into any of the other cars, so that made this car seem somehow more sinister. He hesitantly climbed inside, and set himself down on the plain leather seat.

It felt oddly enclosed, in spite of the glass windows on every side. Aldo was now in one seat, sitting behind the round wheel, and Giulio was in the other front seat. The car started with a rumble, and Argus jumped. It was sort of like being on a very small train, he thought. Except that his eyes didn't sting from the coal dust, and he was sitting right behind the conductor.

Aldo fiddled with a knob, and then the car took off to a smooth start. Argus stared out the window as the buildings slid past, and realized that Aldo was steering with the wheel, turning it to make the car move in either direction. Argus decided that riding in a car was a very nice way of travel, even if it was a bit nerve-racking.

After a few moments, Aldo pulled the Packard back to the curb in front of a narrow alleyway. The engine came to a sputtering stop as Giulio opened the door. "Follow us."

"But, won't everywhere be closed this late?" Argus asked. All the shops along the street were dark, though there did seem to be a large number of cars parked along the street for the late hour.

"Of course not!" replied Aldo with a toothy grin, and began to walk down the alley.

Argus rushed to keep up, stepping over bits of rubbish that lay in the path. Aldo stopped in front of a plain door set in the brick wall just out of sight of the road. He knocked on it twice.

"Yes?" came a voice from the other side.

"Charleston," said Aldo. Argus realized it was a password, much like his mother had used on rooms he hadn't been allowed to enter as a child. He hadn't known that Muggles also made use of passwords.

"Right you are," replied the voice as the door swung open.

The speaker turned out to be a large built man wearing all black, and he gave each of them a good look-over as they entered the building.

Argus went from feeling rather overwhelmed to feeling that he was completely in over his head. This was some sort of club. Girls who were dressed much like Gisella had been were dancing wildly on a small dance floor, bared arms and legs flashing pale against the darkness of their partner's suits. Small tables were littered around the perimeter of the room, and Aldo led them to one in the very far corner. Despite the number of people in the club, this table felt secluded, and was set far enough back that no one could over hear the conversation over the loud jazz band up front.

Argus sat down in the chair facing the wall as Aldo and Giulio both scooted their chairs towards the other side of the table. He realized they had a perfect view of the rest of the room, while all he could see was the dark wall that had a faded poster for a wild-west show.

"Evening, fellows." Argus looked over to see a woman dressed in slightly more subdued clothing than the dancers standing beside the table.

"Good evening, Anna," replied Aldo.

"How're you doing? And who is this ham-and-egger?" asked Anna, smiling at Argus.

"Just an associate," replied Aldo. "And don't bother batting your eyes at him. He isn't interested."

"Horsefeathers. Everyone's interested," replied Anna, settling a slender hand on Argus' shoulder.

"Exactly my point," muttered Aldo as Argus shrugged off the woman's hand. He'd had enough trouble with strange girls already tonight.

"Well, what'll it be?" sighed Anna, seeing that she wasn't getting anywhere with her flirtations.

"Scotch," announced Aldo, "for all of us."

"Swell," replied the woman. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

Aldo waved vaguely after her, and then turned his attention on Argus. "Boy, you understand who we are?"

"Not really," said Argus. Honesty is the best policy, after all. Plus, he was pretty sure that a wrong answer around these guys would be extremely detrimental to his health.

"Have you seen the new flick Dr. Mabuse, The Gambler?" asked Giulio.

"No," replied Argus.

"Damn," replied Giulio. "That woulda made this easier to explain."

"Shut yer trap," snapped Aldo. He would have continued, but Anna had returned with drinks.

"Here you go," she said, setting down three teacups on the table. Aldo handed her a few identically printed pieces of paper. Anna walked off. Aldo must have noticed Argus' interest in the paper, because he said, "Money," in an explanatory way.

"Oh," replied Argus, "but wouldn't pieces of paper be worth less than coins?"

Aldo laughed, and said, "No, no. It just looks different, like it'd be worth less, but it all spends the same. No matter how you earn it, it all spends the same."

"Oh," said Argus again. He looked back down at the teacup. It was filled to the brim with amber liquid that looked nothing at all like the tea he'd grown up drinking. He picked it up, and took a slightly hesitant sip, then hastily put the cup down as the liquid burned a path down his throat.

"Why is there scotch in the teacup?" he asked.

"Because the owner of this joint is a paranoid bastard," replied Aldo.

Argus fought the urge to say 'oh,' yet again, and instead said, "That's a good enough reason, I suppose."

He took another sip of the scotch, and watched the girls dance across the room.

"You know about organised crime and all that?" said Aldo conversationally.

"I've heard stories," said Argus.

"We're them," replied Aldo.

"Them?"

"The ones the stories are about. And we want you to be a part of us."

"Why?" asked Argus.

"You have potential," replied Aldo. "It'd be nothing major. You won't be high enough in the chain to be of interest to anyone, and you'll just do some odd jobs we have lying around."

"Such as?"

"Well," said Aldo with a shark-like grin, "I did have something in mind..."

Argus didn't really have a choice in the matter, now did he? Thinking about the shiny guns hidden under the men's dark coats, he said, "Tell me about it."

*

It was one week after Argus had set foot in the brothel. He now sat with Aldo inside his Ford. The car was parked outside of a small restaurant where the man he was supposed to kill was eating a late dinner, as he did every Thursday night.

"Alonzo is a portly fellow," Aldo said, "looks just like a pig with a stomach-ache. You can't miss him."

"Err, okay," said Argus, who thought a more concrete description including height and hair colour and things of that sort might be a bit more helpful when planning a murder. He was pretty sure he would get killed if he took out the wrong man, because knowing his luck, it would be a boss.

"Now, go on, and remember- don't get caught," warned Aldo, and motioned for Argus to get out of the car. He did, carrying the case that held the gun he was meant to use on Alonzo. Alonzo was suspected of being a stoolpigeon, and had therefore earned himself a date with a thirty-two.

Argus crossed the street, and stepped into the alley immediately adjacent to the restaurant. After making sure that he was out of sight to the people passing by, he pulled the gun out of the bag, and stared at it for a moment. Its weight felt both comforting and frightening at the same time.

He'd never killed anyone before.

He'd learned to shoot from the Muggle village boys, during the long months when the others of wizarding blood were away at school. He had learned by shooting at tree stumps and at fence posts, and had become a relatively good marksman, particularly when shooting at unmoving objects. He had gone hunting, and had taken down a couple birds and squirrels, but never anything big. Just rodents. Though, he supposed he could look at Muggles as though they were rodents. Or a pig, even, if Aldo's description of his target was accurate.

The gun's handle was surprisingly smooth, and fit in his hand rather well. He tested its aim, and wondered how much pressure on the trigger was necessary. It wouldn't do for him to press too hard or slow, and get surprised by gunshot when he was supposed to get out of there as soon as the Pigman hit the ground.

He peered at his pocket watch. It was nearly time for Alonzo to exit the restaurant. According to Aldo, Alonzo always stopped in this very alley to take a leak before going home. Argus had wondered aloud why the man didn't use the facility inside the restaurant, but Aldo said that Alonzo enjoyed nature. Alonzo also had been known to admit that he enjoyed the thrill of knowing that a high-class lady might peer into the alley and catch a glimpse of his pride and joy at any moment.

Apparently, that was one of few ways he could get his jollies, if what was said about his appearance was indeed true. Aldo had also mentioned that Eduardo, the proprietor of one of the local brothels, had mentioned that his ladies gossiped about Alonzo's somewhat infamous performance anxiety. Apparently he never even got out of his trousers before the lady's services were no longer needed, and was then unable to properly receive any further attention.

And that was about all that Argus actually knew about the man he was meant to kill.

He looked back at his pocket watch. Just a few more minutes before he became a murderer. He realised that he could, if he really wanted to, make a run for it right now. He could be gone, and far, far away before Aldo realized that he was never coming back. He knew that there was no specialist in giving Squibs magic here or probably anywhere in the world, though even he had to admit that giving the address of a brothel instead of an office was brilliantly cruel.

He could go back home. He could leave this godforsaken continent and be back home, where he could listen to his mother go on about his lack of magic and what the ladies thought of it. Or, he could stay here a while, commit murder, and work for a gangster.

What he'd seen so far of the gangster lifestyle was pretty nice. Aldo's 'modest home,' as he had called it, had been very nice, despite its somewhat rundown exterior. He knew that the amount of money he would earn if he did, indeed, kill the Pigman would easily get him back home if he so chose. But, he thought, recalling the blue-eyed beauty whom was engaged to a man in a similar job, there were definite perks to staying here that he would definitely not receive if he returned home. His mother still treated him like a child, despite the fact that he was in his nineteenth year of life.

Just then, a portly fellow who looked like a pig with a bad stomach-ache strolled into the alley, and began to take a leak against one wall. He didn't even notice Argus. Argus considered his options, came to a decision, raised the gun, and played God.

Bang.

Alonzo fell to the ground, a new hole adorning his head. His pride and joy lolled against his fly, still dribbling urine onto the expensively tailored trousers. A gory splatter of blood and brain adorned the wall, just a little ways up from the writing on the wall that Alonzo had been working on at the time of his death.

Argus stared at the fallen man for a second, then shoved the warm gun into his bag. Recalling Aldo's advice to get the hell out of there as soon as he'd done the hit, he fled the alley, looking around as subtly as he could to see if anyone noticed him.

He didn't see anyone.

He took several turns, following the detailed instructions that Aldo had given him earlier that day. Finally he arrived at the place where he was going to meet up with the Torrio cousins. Aldo and Giulio were already waiting there, sitting in the Ford in the parking lot of an apartment building.

"Well?" Aldo asked.

"I got him," replied Argus. A grin broke out on Aldo's face, and he announced, "I knew you would. Giulio, you owe me five dollars."

They had bet five dollars on whether he would go through with the hit or not? He had figured out enough about Muggle American currency to realize that was, while not a truly phenomenal amount, more than most people would bet on something trivial.

Aldo handed Argus a plain envelope. "Your payment."

Argus peered into the envelope, and decided that there were a satisfactory number of bills inside. He tucked the envelope inside his jacket with shaking hands, and wondered what would happen next.