Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Chapter 4

Chapter 4


Home



Sergey headed home at the end of his shift tired and annoyed. The Cappelli brothers had been given permission to open their new establishment, Club 2000 despite protests from police and locals. Sergey wondered how much money had changed hands to allow the club to go ahead. Everyone knew that the club would run illegal card games and rumour was that it was also going to house a thinly disguised brothel. Sergey had heard that the Cappelli boys had been hiring girls at their Valley home last weekend. Then there were the two bodies that had been found in back alley’s in the last two days. One Italian and one Chinese. Something was building there.




His son was in the kitchen with his girlfriend Britt. The teenagers had been dating for a few months ago and the girl was often at their house when he got home. Sergey tried to force a smile on his face. He had never really taken to the blonde girl, but he made an effort to get on with her because Ladislaus seemed seriously smitten with her. She gave Sergey one of her sugary smiles and a little wave.

“Hi Mr Solarin”. We’re cooking omelettes. Do you want one?” She asked.

“That would be great, thanks,” Sergey answered, thinking sourly that he would have to sit and eat with her.

It was a relief when they disappeared of to Ladislaus room to ‘study’ after they had eaten. Sergey turned on the TV and watched a comedy program that took his mind off of the day’s tension.



”Your father doesn’t like me,” Britt complained as she and Ladislaus lowered themselves onto his bed.

“He’s just tired,” Ladislaus answered.

He really did not want to be talking about his father right now. Britt had turned up over an hour later than she had said she would be here, looking so hot in a short denim skirt and a sweater that left her midriff bare. And those fishnet hose. She was so hot. She hadn’t let him touch her though, not even kiss her, until she had eaten. He was sure that while they were preparing dinner she had not needed to bend over quite so often.

She opened her mouth to speak again and he shut her up by kissing her deeply. Britt made a small moan and pulled him closer. One arm circled his neck while her free hand pushed under his T-shirt to stroke the skin on his back. Ladislaus pulled his mouth from hers and moved down the bed to kiss the exposed flesh between her sweater and the low waistband of her skirt. He planted slow, sensuous kisses across her naked skin.





Britt gasped, arched her hips upwards him and gripped his hair. She pushed him lower. Ladislaus kissed one of her knees then the other. Britt let her legs fall apart and he kissed up the inside of her thigh. Ladislaus found it hard to breath. His heart was raising and his pants were uncomfortably tight around the groin. He kissed her pubic mound through the fabric of the hose and her silky underwear. Britt whimpered and ground her hips against him. She twined the fingers of one hand into his hair and pulled his face back to hers and kissed him hard. With her free hand she pushed at her hose and panties until they rested around her thighs.





Britt took Ladislaus hand and drew it between her legs. Eyes wide Ladislaus touched her and let out a strangled moan. She felt so good there, warm and very moist. Britt kissed him fiercely and laid her hand over his, urging his probing fingers to explore further inside her.
She moved her hips against him, circling and grinding. Ladislaus echoed her movement with his fingers and watched her intently as she closed her eyes and bit down on her lip, uttering soft mewling sounds that turned him on even more. The movement of her hips quickened and her breathing grew harsher and faster. She jerked against his hand and uttered a long, low sound that made Ladislaus glance at the door. He watched her in frozen silence for several minutes until her breathing became regular. She moved her hand from between her legs and smiled at him.




“Mmmmm, that was good.” She smiled turning and cupping him through the fabric of his jeans. “Poor baby. You’re all turned on, and I don’t have time to do anything about it. I have to go.”

She fixed her clothing and stood up. Stunned, Ladislaus stood too. She kissed him lightly and headed for the door.

“See you tomorrow, Baby.”

Ladislaus did not move to see her out. He heard her call a cheery farewell to his father. It took several minutes for his breathing to calm and his heart rate to slow. A glance in the mirror showed him to be very flushed.




After a few minutes Ladislaus left his room and headed towards the bathroom. Sergey was sitting on the sofa studying.

“You okay, Slava? Britt seemed to leave in something of a hurry. You didn’t argue?” He asked.

“Uh, no. She had to get home. I’m just going to get a shower, then I thought maybe we’d play chess, if you like,” Ladislaus said casually.

“Sounds good.”

Ladislaus locked the bathroom door and stripped off his clothes. It was a relief to remove his confining jeans and underwear. He stepped beneath the shower jet and reached for the shower gel. He was still painfully hard and his mind replayed what he had just done with Britt.

As he remembered his hand moved to his erection and moved rhythmically as his fingers had moved in Britt tension building in him, his heart speeding up again. His release came very quickly and he gritted his teeth to stop himself crying out. He leaned against the wall for a few moments, his mind still on Britt. She was beautiful, she was hot and so much fun to be around, but sometimes she could be a total bitch. She liked getting him this aroused and then abandoning him so abruptly. She had done thing like this to him before. He finished showering, dried himself off and put on his pyjamas.

As he remembered his hand moved to his erection and moved rhythmically as his fingers had moved in Britt tension building in him, his heart speeding up again. His release came very quickly and he gritted his teeth to stop himself crying out. He leaned against the wall for a few moments, his mind still on Britt. She was beautiful, she was hot and so much fun to be around, but sometimes she could be a total bitch. She liked getting him this aroused and then abandoning him so abruptly. She had done thing like this to him before. He finished showering, dried himself off and put on his pyjamas.




He joined his father at the chess board. As they played they made chatted about school and work. Sergey told Ladislaus about Amarose’s new employee.

“Irissa. That’s the prostitute’s kid, right? The one you like. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to adopt her or something and bring me home a new sister,” Ladislaus teased.

“We don’t have a spare room and I don’t think you’d like sharing,” Sergey replied.

“Depends if she’s pretty,” Ladislaus retorted, waggling his eyebrows.

“I think she is, but I don’t think she’s your type. By the way, things are getting pretty serious between you and Britt. I hope you are being careful. Taking precautions,” Sergey said casually.

“Hasn’t come to that yet, Dad, but I’m not stupid.” Ladislaus replied equally casually. “Check.”

“You’re getting better at this. You are going to beat me one day,” Sergey grumbled.

‘Yet’, his son had said. Which said he expected that he would sleep with Britt at some point. Sergey wished he like the girl better.


Don’t Fear The Reaper








Irissa stopped and turned to look at the old man who was standing in the street, looking somewhat confused.

“Excuse me, sir, are you all right?” She asked.

For some reason the hair on the back of her neck was raised and her skin was breaking out in goose bumps’

He turned and gave her a confused stare.

“Why yes, Dear, I think I am. I believe I’m waiting for someone,” he smiled.
The chills on Irissa’s skin increased. She moved closer to the old man.

“Do you want me to call someone?” She asked.

The old man smiled and shook his head, still staring into the air. A boy Irissa recognised from school stopped and looked in the direction that the old man was staring in.

“What’s he looking at?” He asked.

Irissa shook her head, afraid to turn and look. The boy walked off, shrugging as he went.





Irissa felt the presence move closer to her and covered her eyes. The old man laughed.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear. It’s me he has come for,” he chuckled.

“ARE YOU READY?” A voice echoed around Irissa’s head.

“Lead on, my friend,” the old man said cheerfully.
His body fell to the ground but Irissa could see the small spark of light rise from it and head upwards, intensely bright, through the gaps in her fingers.

“Let me look at you, girl.” The voice in her head said, softer and much gentler.





Irissa raised her head and looked at the hooded figure.

“Hmmm. You don’t look like much.” The voice said, then the figure was gone.

Alone and afraid with the body, Irissa took out the cell phone Sergey had given her and called 911.





The police asked Irissa a few questions about the old man’s death and then let her go. Still shaken she wandered on, not really thinking about where she was going. Her feet took her along the route she had been heading when she first saw the old man.
Past Tom’s diner and into the shop she had wanted to check out. As if a map had been left in her head and she had subconsciously followed it. The store was called ‘Magick!’ and stocked a variety of unusual books and other interesting items. Irissa had been there once before but had not had the money to purchase anything.
As on the previous occasion she had visited, the shop was crowded. Among the patrons were several teenagers. Irissa knew that the other teenagers attended the local private school.

Rowena Porter, the store owner surprised Irissa by recognising her and making a point of coming to greet her. They had spoken very briefly on Irissa’s last visit.





“Irissa. It’s good to see you back. How are....my dear, whatever is wrong. You look as if you have seen a ghost!”

Irissa laughed nervously and looked around her to see who was listening. Then she found herself telling Rowena the whole story.

“So, I think I’m going crazy. I imagined I saw Death. The skeleton in the robes, the scythe, the whole nine yards. And what was craziest, he was wearing a pink floral garland like the hula dancers wear,” she finished, hearing the hysteria in her own voice.

“You felt that the old man was going to die? You knew something was wrong?” Rowena asked.

“Yes. I felt cold and concerned,” Irissa replied.
“Tell me, Irissa, when you call the Goddess, how do you see her?” Rowena asked.





Irissa hesitated. Why did this woman assume that she had done such a thing? Rowena’s steady gaze brooked no denial, though.

“Uuuum, black hair – blue black like the night sky, curvy and with pale, moon-white skin,” she replied.

“I see her differently. Silver hair, as slender as a moonbeam but also with moon pale skin. If we stood side by side in this circle....” she indicated the floor beneath them, “We would see a different image but we would call the same force. These forces have no corporeal form. We give them one. I see Death as Hecate, the crone. You just latched onto the most common archetype. You gave the energy a form you were comfortable with, although the garland is a bit odd. The thing is that you felt the power and you saw it here” She touched Irissa’s forehead. “In your third eye.”

“It still sounds crazy,” Irissa replied.

Rowena looked seriously at her.

“Help yourself to some tea, Irissa, and sit for a while. We’ll talk later. I don’t know who began your training, but I feel you could do with some more guidance. We’ll talk when you feel calmer, “she said.





“I have money, today, Rowena. I wanted to buy something. A nice book with plain pages that I can write some.... Lessons into. And some candles. Maybe some nice candlesticks,” Irissa told her.

“You want to start your Book of Shadows. I’ll find you something special. Look around. There are candles and things which will suit, I’m sure. If you need any help just call.”

Rowena turned to answer a query from one of her other customers. A very beautiful blonde girl with killer cheekbones and a haughty expression. Irissa found her eyes resting on the boy who appeared to be with the blonde. There was something achingly familiar about him. The blonde girl caught her looking and glowered, linking her arm through the boy’s and pulling him over to the coffee and tea bar. Irissa shrugged and turned to look at the rest of the stock.






“Rowena keeps the best stock of candles. All colours,” someone said casually at her shoulder.

Irissa realised that the second girl from the private school party was talking to her. She turned and smiled shyly at her.

“It’s a wonderful shop. I’ve only been in once before,” she replied.

“Oh, I’m in here all the time. I usually get more time to browse in peace, but the dread Britt decided to come with me.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she moved closer to Irissa.

“I can’t stand the stuck up bitch, but my boyfriend Jack and her boyfriend Ladislaus are best friends.”




Irissa glanced again at the boy she had thought familiar. Ladislaus. A Russian name. The penny dropped. He had to be related to Sergey. That was who he reminded her of.

“I’m into the Quabbalah mainly, but Rowena knows all sorts of stuff. Oh, I’m Zara Ottaker, by the way. I heard your name. Irissa, right? That’s pretty. Look, Britt is itching to be gone. Maybe I’ll see you here again. It would be nice,” Zara spoke quickly. Britt was sitting on the sofa with her arms crossed, tapping her foot and glaring.

“That would be really nice,” Irissa smiled.

Zara’s boyfriend left the shelves he had been studying and joined her. Britt stalked out of the shop with Ladislaus behind her. Zara’s boyfriend grabbed her and kissed her.






“Thanks for being so patient, sweetie. I know she wrecked your shopping trip,” he said.

Irissa smiled to herself as she watched them leave. It would be nice to see Zara again. She and her boyfriend seemed to be really nice people.





Irissa turned her attention to the shelves and selected a few purchases.



Neighbourhood Girl







The club opened on schedule. The clientele was exclusive and rich. The membership fees were extremely high. Suzanne’s first job was serving at the bar, but she soon became aware that she serving more than alcohol. Some of the items she passed to customers came in silver foil packets or small cellophane bags. Even some of the drinks were quite unlike anything she had served before.


Many of the customers used the gambling tables and Suzanne quickly became aware that the stakes were high. Suzanne made good tips for her work that night. At the end of the night Marco complimented her on her work.

“You’re a star, honey. The customers love you. Just the right mix of class and trash. I want you on a different job tomorrow. You get a chance to use those poker skills you showed me. You’ll be in charge of table four. I want the players kept off balance. And I want them thinking about using the upstairs ‘facilities’. I want them spending any winnings in here, get it? If you’re really smart you’ll have them requesting your services.”





The next evening Suzanne found herself in the gaming room sitting at a table with some very strange customers. One of them, a man in very formal evening dress and heavily made up, called himself ‘The Count’.

If the man had not been so intense and creepy Suzanne would have found that funny. She found herself thinking about the Sesame Street program Irissa had watched as a child. Suzanne had always approached her job as a professional and had never let her personal distaste for her customers desires stop her from carrying out their requests. She had one thing she would not do, but that was for the sake of her own health rather than distaste.
Yet the way The Count kept picking up her hand and sinking his teeth into the back of her hand she found creepy. In spite of the attention he lavished on her he kept his attention on the game and won several times.

In the end the other players left and in the last game Suzanne beat the Count to recoup most of the losses she had made. The man gave her a feral smile.

“That was stimulating, My Dear. Next time I should like to play a different kind of game with you,” he purred in an accent that Suzanne was sure lent more towards Boris Karloff movies than to Eastern Europe.
She smiled sweetly while cringing inside.

As the Count left the club Marco called to Suzanne.







“Upstairs,” he ordered. “I have a very wealthy customer with a request. You and Sandy, together.”

Suzanne shrugged. It would not be the first time she had worked with another girl to service a client, and she said so.

“This man doesn’t participate. He lies to watch,” Marco explained.

“That will be new,” Suzanne replied. I’ve never done a girl before.”

“Enjoy it then, or make Mr Baxter believe that you do. He’s a connoisseur. If he complains about the show, I won’t be happy, do you understand?”
If the Count had seemed a little creepy, the look Marco gave Suzanne froze her to her marrow

“He’ll be pleased,” Suzanne promised.






Sandy was lying naked on the bed when she entered the room. A grey haired man was sitting on a chair in the corner, his hands crossed on his lap. He looked like a banker or a lawyer, Suzanne thought.

Sandy giggled as Suzanne joined her on the bed. She leaned close to Suzanne and whispered in her ear

“Nice man, paying me to act out MY fantasy. I wanted you from the first day I saw you. Follow my lead, Baby and we’ll be fine. And I promise you won’t be faking.”

Suzanne started, then shrugged and let Sandy lead the way. She lost track of time as Sandy touched, stroked, sucked and licked. She couldn’t remember when she began to touch and stroke in return, but she became aware of the deeper, faster breathing from their client in the corner. Sandy cried out at the peak of an orgasm and Suzanne heard the chair being pushed back. The man was standing beside the bed. At some point during proceedings he had removed his clothes.

“You,” he ordered Sandy. ”Go sit in the chair."






Suzanne was confused when he joined her on the bed. Marco had said that Mr Baxter didn’t participate. He put his arm around Suzanne and leaned towards her. His tongue ran around her lips then pushed briefly inside her mouth.

“Sweet.” He murmured, then pushed her head towards his lap. “Suck.”
Suzanne took him in her mouth and brought him just short of orgasm then raised her head and wrapped her hand around his shaft and finished the job. The man’s cry was part release, part rage.

“You bitch. You ruined that for me. What the fuck did you stop for?” He rose to his knees on the bed. He opened the door and yelled for Marco. Sandy cowered in her chair as Baxter yelled and screamed at Marco. Marco picked up the client’s clothes and escorted him from the room.





A short while later he returned with Baxter, storming across the room and slapped Suzanne hard across the face.
“What the fuck are you playing at? Do you know how important Mr Baxter is? You refuse him nothing, do you hear, nothing!” He yelled.
Baxter watched with a smug smile on his face. Suzanne was too stunned to answer.

“I’ll leave you to punish her, and I expect better next time I’m here,” Baxter said, slamming the door behind him

“Explain yourself , you worthless slut,” Marco demanded.

“I never let a man cum in my mouth,” Suzanne replied.

Marco laughed harshly.

“You work for me now. Whatever niceties you allowed yourself before, they are gone. Understand. You do what I say, when I say. And you do what my customers want. Got it?”






He hit her again, harder this time.

“Do you understand?” He said, speaking slowly, as if speaking to slow child.
The look in his eyes was manic, terrifying. Suzanne nodded slowly.

“Good. Now, to prove that you understand and that you are going to do what I want my good little whores to do, I have some homework for you.

Marco chased Sandy from the room and took off his clothes. He forced Suzanne into the chair and stood in front of her.






“Show me how you will deal with Mr Baxter next time he is here.”
Still shaking Suzanne tried to close her mind to the fear that Marco had raised in her she turned on her professional mind and gave every indication enjoying what she was doing to Marco, and in making sure he was squirming and writhing with pleasure.

When it was done he pulled her out of the chair and pulled her body close to his.

“That’s my good girl,” He whispered, kissing her neck. “Get dressed, now. It’s almost time to go home.”

The other girls had already left by the time Suzanne had finished dressing. Suzanne was walking towards the stairs when Marco called to her. He and Angelo were on the gallery area of the club. Marco pushed her down to sit on one of the couches.

“Homework revision, Suzanne. Angelo would like you to perform the same lesson for him as you did for me.”






Marco stood with his arms crossed and watched intently while Suzanne worked on Angelo. When she was done Angelo fixed his clothing and walked away. Marco smiled sweetly at Suzanne.

“You won’t forget that lesson now, will you Sweetie?” He asked.
Suzanne shook her head meekly.

“Such a good girl,” he said. “Remember, Angel, without me you would just be another little street walking neighbourhood girl. Now, go home. I may have a little surprise for you tomorrow.”

Suzanne awakened with a thumping headache and a taste like old boots in her mouth. She had come home and headed straight for her bedroom where she had downed the better part of a bottle of scotch. It had taken that much alcohol to stop her from shaking and help her to sleep.

Suzanne was used to fear. She had managed to get into a number of scrapes and dodgy situations in her lifetime. Her arrival in Darksprings had been as a result of running from a man she had embezzled in a town of on the mainland.







Nothing and no-one had ever frightened her as much as Marco Cappelli did. In the last couple of days she had begun to realise that the man danced on the edge of madness. The afternoon was dull and the light dim.

The heavy drapes of the sitting room were still closed and only the kitchen light was on. Suzanne stumbled on something, stubbing her toe. She cursed loudly as she made out a pile of books on the floor beside the sofa.

“What the fuck is this pile of rubbish?” She yelled.







Irissa had been sitting at the kitchen table studying. She stood up and switched on the sitting room light. Suzanne studied the pile of items on the floor and on the table beside Irissa’s sofa bed. Irissa cringed at the sight of her mother’s enraged face.

“I asked what this crap is. Where did you get the money for all of this? What’s going on, Irissa?” Suzanne snapped, grabbing her daughter by the shoulder and shaking her fiercely.

“I got a job at the diner. I...I bought a few things,” Irissa explained.

“I got a job at the diner...bought a few things...” Suzanne mimicked cruelly in a high pitched parody of her daughter’s voice. “You selfish little bitch! Did you think that some extra money coming into the house might help a bit? There are bills to be paid! I work my fingers to the bone to keep you and this house......” She lashed out, slapping Irissa hard across the face. Irissa staggered backwards against a kitchen counter and bruised her arm.






“I did think,” she protested. “I only spent some of the money. I left the rest on you bedside cabinet for you.”

“Only part of..... Did you think to ask what I needed. Or did you think about sensible purchases, like clothes for school, or shoes? Books? Candle? What the hell is that about? More of your stupid airy fairy nonsense. You are not right in the head, Irissa Galloway!” Suzanne screamed, hitting out at Irissa again.






Irissa turned away, sobbing hysterically. Suzanne looked sourly at her and stalked off to her bedroom to dress. When she returned Irissa was still sobbing.

“I don’t know what you are making all that noise about. I’m the one who should be crying. What I’ve gone through for you and what do I get in return....” she sighed. “Oh, give that carry on a rest!”

Irissa tried to calm herself and stop crying, aware of her mother’s eyes like daggers on her back. She grabbed a tissue and rubbed at her eyes, taking deep breaths to stop her sobs then turned around to face her mother.
Suzanne started again as soon as her daughter turned around.






“Tomorrow you can take this rubbish back to the store you got it from and get your money back, you hear me? I won’t have it in this house. You and your creepy, weird ways. Why couldn’t I have had a normal daughter?” She screamed.

Irissa stared at her, hurt and trembling. Suzanne’s fist flashed out and caught her across the cheek. Irissa turned and ran out of the door, hearing her mother screaming behind her.
________________________________________

Shadows Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

Chapter1

Another Suitcase in Another Hall





Sergey Solarin noticed the new girl in the area on one of his off duty walks. A vice cop in downtown Darksprings, he could deal with most things life threw his way, but he had never been able to handle watching the youngest people on the street.

The runaways and the ones drawn into a prostitute’s life by unscrupulous thugs. He had struck up a friendship with a young woman who ran a shelter to help get the youngsters off of the street and give them a chance at a different life. The area he walked that day was not frequented by decent families. The houses were let to working girls and boys and to drug addicts. The deeper into the warren of streets and alleys you went the poorer the housing and the worse the problems.

He saw the new girl outside one of the ‘nicer’ houses. The exterior of the house was in better condition than most and the curtains hung straight, with the right number of hooks. The windows were clean. The girl was sweeping the outside steps when he saw her.

The first thing Sergey noticed about her were her clothes and makeup. She wore a skirt which reached to the ground and a long sleeved crop top over a mesh T and her makeup was subtle, no different than any teenage girl would wear. Although the top revealed her bare midriff, her clothing was not the norm for a street girl.

‘Hi,’ Sergey had ventured cheerfully.

Her head had shot up, her eyes hostile as they raked over him. He knew that with his looks and build and dressed in casual jeans and sweater and with no car, he did not look like the usual ‘customer’ for these parts.

‘I’m not what you’re looking for,’ she said sharply. ‘I only live here, I don’t work here.’






‘And I don’t live here, I only work here. I’m Detective Sergey Solarin,’ he introduced himself.

The girl’s shoulders relaxed, which told Sergey a lot, and she smiled.

‘Irissa Galloway. Lucky you. At least if you only work here you can get out sometimes.’

Curious now, Sergey settled himself on the sidewalk outside her house. He did not suggest they go inside to talk. Although she had relaxed somewhat, she was still cautious of him and if what he suspected was true, she would still be uncertain of the police. Before long he had his curiosity satisfied. She was fourteen years old and had moved here just three weeks before. She moved around a lot.

‘That’s my life,’ she said with a harsh laugh. ‘One grubby hallway to another’.

Her mother was a prostitute, but not a street girl. Their conversation covered so many subjects. Sergey had found that the detachment he was usually able to maintain with the people of this area vanished in her presence. Sergey was a good cop and a good man. He cared about his job and the people who crossed his path, especially the young ones, but over the years he had managed to build a thin wall between his work and his home life. Empathy he had, but he had to be able to draw back some way or he would go mad. Irissa Galloway crashed straight through the wall.





As he spoke to her he found himself thinking about his son and how different his life was. Ladislaus had a comfortable life, attended a private school and was heading for University.

Eventually Irissa stood up.

‘I have homework that needs done and I better get some food ready for my mother. It’s been nice talking to you, Detective. You are easy to talk to,’ the way she said that made him feel that she did not find it easy to talk to many people. ‘I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else.’

‘I’m flattered. Irissa, if you need anything....’ he found himself doing something he never did. He gave her his home telephone and cell phone numbers.

Sergey’s road led him back to the police station. He never felt afraid out on the streets, although some of his workmates walked nowhere, and certainly not alone.

Sergey, they felt, was in more danger than most because of his work with the young street kids. He deprived the pimps and gangsters of part of their living. None of them would have been surprised to find him being stopped by some thug.




What they would have been surprised at was Marco Cappelli stepping out in front of him with a

‘Good afternoon, Detective’.

Sergey returned the greeting coolly. The street was full of people and Sergey had no intention that innocents be killed by stray bullets. He kept his hands carefully in front of him. For all his caution, he did not believe for a second that Marco would shoot a cop in front of a lot of bystanders. This was something else.

‘My father send his greetings, Detective Solarin,’ there was a smile on Cappelli’s face as he spoke, but his stance and the set of his shoulders conveyed a threat. ‘And a friendly word. Keep away from our girls. They are not your business.’

‘I believe that’s your warning, Marco. Your father wouldn’t ‘lower himself’ by talking to a cop himself, or having one of his sons do that. He’d send someone lower down the chain. Or has your position in the family slipped?’

Sergey met Marco's eyes and answered calmly.

‘It’s time you learned the lessons the other cops in this town have learned, Dickwit,’ Marco growled. ‘We’ve given you a chance, let you settle in. We hoped you would learn the rules, but in two years you are making more trouble rather than less. You have interfered with our girls, our casino and our other business. There is going to be a reckoning if you don’t start listening to your colleagues."






‘I’m prepared for it, Marco. The crooks and lowlifes in this town have been without proper law for too long. I’m not changing how I work for anybody,’ Sergey kept his voice calm as he spoke, but he was fighting the urge to punch Marco.

‘Stupid man. You think you are some kind of Sheriff in a white hat? Sent to clean up the town? Its time you saw the real world, Detective. You have family of your own to think about,’ Marco sneered.

Sergey schooled his face to show nothing, but a chill clutched at his heart. He shook his head and gave Marco a disgusted look.

‘I thought your father had more honour than to make war on children,’ he retorted. Something flickered across Marco's face and Sergey knew he was right.

Don Cappelli had a sentimental streak and contributed to numerous educational and recreational projects in the town.

Sergey had always suspected that he was unaware of the younger girls and boys his sons ran. On more than one occasion he had considered trying to find a way to have a discussion with the Don.






Inside the police station, in his office, Sergey found his younger brother Nikita standing at the window.

‘I saw you with Marco. I would have come down if I had thought there had been any danger’, Nikita told him.

‘No, you wouldn’t have. I’ve told you before that I don’t want you involved with these guys. You’re not equipped to tangle with them,’ Sergey replied. ‘You’re a lawyer, Nikki. You do your thing in the courts; I do mine on the streets.’

Nikita scowled. Ever since they had been children Sergey had been protective towards him, emphasising the differences between them. Sergey was the strong one, Nikita the smart one. Nikita had been small and skinny as a child and had been the obvious target for bullies, until his taller, bulkier brother had intervened.

Yet Sergey had never made Nikita feel inferior. In fact, he had always asked his brother’s advice and help. ‘You’re smart, you’ll know this’, ‘what should I do here?’ and ‘I need your advice’ were words Sergey often directed at his brother. Yet sometimes Nikita would prefer to be there at his brother’s side when the physical stuff started. Nikita could see the same pattern evolving with their sons. The two boys were damn near clones of their fathers and Alexei was two years younger than Ladislaus. Even the age gap was the same.

‘There’s word on the streets that you are pissing off the Capellis. I guess that’s what Marco was talking to you about?

‘He threatened my family, Nikki. Do you think that I should have you and the boys move out of town?’

‘We wouldn’t go. Don Cappelli won’t let his boys harm the kids and I can take care of myself. I’ve learned some martial arts and I’m able to shoot pretty well.’ Nikita replied.

‘You probably wouldn’t even know that they were there, Nik. Maybe I should just learn to play the game?’ Sergey asked quietly.

Nikita scowled. His brother had been very down lately, sometimes feeling that he was fighting a battle on two fronts, from the corruption within the station and the criminal activities on the streets.

And it was heading to that time of the year again. The second of February was just two weeks away. The date of the car crash that had killed Elena and Raisa and left both men widowed and their sons motherless. Sergey was always hit harder by memories than Nikita.

Another Suitcase in Another Hall





Sergey Solarin noticed the new girl in the area on one of his off duty walks. A vice cop in downtown Darksprings, he could deal with most things life threw his way, but he had never been able to handle watching the youngest people on the street.

The runaways and the ones drawn into a prostitute’s life by unscrupulous thugs. He had struck up a friendship with a young woman who ran a shelter to help get the youngsters off of the street and give them a chance at a different life. The area he walked that day was not frequented by decent families. The houses were let to working girls and boys and to drug addicts. The deeper into the warren of streets and alleys you went the poorer the housing and the worse the problems.

He saw the new girl outside one of the ‘nicer’ houses. The exterior of the house was in better condition than most and the curtains hung straight, with the right number of hooks. The windows were clean. The girl was sweeping the outside steps when he saw her.

The first thing Sergey noticed about her were her clothes and makeup. She wore a skirt which reached to the ground and a long sleeved crop top over a mesh T and her makeup was subtle, no different than any teenage girl would wear. Although the top revealed her bare midriff, her clothing was not the norm for a street girl.

‘Hi,’ Sergey had ventured cheerfully.

Her head had shot up, her eyes hostile as they raked over him. He knew that with his looks and build and dressed in casual jeans and sweater and with no car, he did not look like the usual ‘customer’ for these parts.

‘I’m not what you’re looking for,’ she said sharply. ‘I only live here, I don’t work here.’






‘And I don’t live here, I only work here. I’m Detective Sergey Solarin,’ he introduced himself.

The girl’s shoulders relaxed, which told Sergey a lot, and she smiled.

‘Irissa Galloway. Lucky you. At least if you only work here you can get out sometimes.’

Curious now, Sergey settled himself on the sidewalk outside her house. He did not suggest they go inside to talk. Although she had relaxed somewhat, she was still cautious of him and if what he suspected was true, she would still be uncertain of the police. Before long he had his curiosity satisfied. She was fourteen years old and had moved here just three weeks before. She moved around a lot.

‘That’s my life,’ she said with a harsh laugh. ‘One grubby hallway to another’.

Her mother was a prostitute, but not a street girl. Their conversation covered so many subjects. Sergey had found that the detachment he was usually able to maintain with the people of this area vanished in her presence. Sergey was a good cop and a good man. He cared about his job and the people who crossed his path, especially the young ones, but over the years he had managed to build a thin wall between his work and his home life. Empathy he had, but he had to be able to draw back some way or he would go mad. Irissa Galloway crashed straight through the wall.





As he spoke to her he found himself thinking about his son and how different his life was. Ladislaus had a comfortable life, attended a private school and was heading for University.

Eventually Irissa stood up.

‘I have homework that needs done and I better get some food ready for my mother. It’s been nice talking to you, Detective. You are easy to talk to,’ the way she said that made him feel that she did not find it easy to talk to many people. ‘I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else.’

‘I’m flattered. Irissa, if you need anything....’ he found himself doing something he never did. He gave her his home telephone and cell phone numbers.

Sergey’s road led him back to the police station. He never felt afraid out on the streets, although some of his workmates walked nowhere, and certainly not alone.

Sergey, they felt, was in more danger than most because of his work with the young street kids. He deprived the pimps and gangsters of part of their living. None of them would have been surprised to find him being stopped by some thug.




What they would have been surprised at was Marco Cappelli stepping out in front of him with a

‘Good afternoon, Detective’.

Sergey returned the greeting coolly. The street was full of people and Sergey had no intention that innocents be killed by stray bullets. He kept his hands carefully in front of him. For all his caution, he did not believe for a second that Marco would shoot a cop in front of a lot of bystanders. This was something else.

‘My father send his greetings, Detective Solarin,’ there was a smile on Cappelli’s face as he spoke, but his stance and the set of his shoulders conveyed a threat. ‘And a friendly word. Keep away from our girls. They are not your business.’

‘I believe that’s your warning, Marco. Your father wouldn’t ‘lower himself’ by talking to a cop himself, or having one of his sons do that. He’d send someone lower down the chain. Or has your position in the family slipped?’

Sergey met Marco's eyes and answered calmly.

‘It’s time you learned the lessons the other cops in this town have learned, Dickwit,’ Marco growled. ‘We’ve given you a chance, let you settle in. We hoped you would learn the rules, but in two years you are making more trouble rather than less. You have interfered with our girls, our casino and our other business. There is going to be a reckoning if you don’t start listening to your colleagues."






‘I’m prepared for it, Marco. The crooks and lowlifes in this town have been without proper law for too long. I’m not changing how I work for anybody,’ Sergey kept his voice calm as he spoke, but he was fighting the urge to punch Marco.

‘Stupid man. You think you are some kind of Sheriff in a white hat? Sent to clean up the town? Its time you saw the real world, Detective. You have family of your own to think about,’ Marco sneered.

Sergey schooled his face to show nothing, but a chill clutched at his heart. He shook his head and gave Marco a disgusted look.

‘I thought your father had more honour than to make war on children,’ he retorted. Something flickered across Marco's face and Sergey knew he was right.

Don Cappelli had a sentimental streak and contributed to numerous educational and recreational projects in the town.

Sergey had always suspected that he was unaware of the younger girls and boys his sons ran. On more than one occasion he had considered trying to find a way to have a discussion with the Don.






Inside the police station, in his office, Sergey found his younger brother Nikita standing at the window.

‘I saw you with Marco. I would have come down if I had thought there had been any danger’, Nikita told him.

‘No, you wouldn’t have. I’ve told you before that I don’t want you involved with these guys. You’re not equipped to tangle with them,’ Sergey replied. ‘You’re a lawyer, Nikki. You do your thing in the courts; I do mine on the streets.’

Nikita scowled. Ever since they had been children Sergey had been protective towards him, emphasising the differences between them. Sergey was the strong one, Nikita the smart one. Nikita had been small and skinny as a child and had been the obvious target for bullies, until his taller, bulkier brother had intervened.

Yet Sergey had never made Nikita feel inferior. In fact, he had always asked his brother’s advice and help. ‘You’re smart, you’ll know this’, ‘what should I do here?’ and ‘I need your advice’ were words Sergey often directed at his brother. Yet sometimes Nikita would prefer to be there at his brother’s side when the physical stuff started. Nikita could see the same pattern evolving with their sons. The two boys were damn near clones of their fathers and Alexei was two years younger than Ladislaus. Even the age gap was the same.

‘There’s word on the streets that you are pissing off the Capellis. I guess that’s what Marco was talking to you about?

‘He threatened my family, Nikki. Do you think that I should have you and the boys move out of town?’

‘We wouldn’t go. Don Cappelli won’t let his boys harm the kids and I can take care of myself. I’ve learned some martial arts and I’m able to shoot pretty well.’ Nikita replied.

‘You probably wouldn’t even know that they were there, Nik. Maybe I should just learn to play the game?’ Sergey asked quietly.

Nikita scowled. His brother had been very down lately, sometimes feeling that he was fighting a battle on two fronts, from the corruption within the station and the criminal activities on the streets.

And it was heading to that time of the year again. The second of February was just two weeks away. The date of the car crash that had killed Elena and Raisa and left both men widowed and their sons motherless. Sergey was always hit harder by memories than Nikita.






Chapter 2
Tom’s Diner





‘Hey Irissa, how are you doing?’ Sergey asked as the girl walked towards a booth, carrying her school books. She looked distant and unhappy. ‘Come and sit for a while, tell me what’s new.’

Irissa sat down and poured herself a glass of water from the jug on the table.

‘My mother is out. She hasn’t left the key in the usual place,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d have a coffee here and do my homework.’

A coffee, Sergey thought. It’s been two hours since school finished so she’s been hanging around since then and I bet she has had no food. I also don’t imagine she has any money beyond enough for a coffee.

‘I was about to have some dinner. Will you join me?’ He asked.

Irissa looked a bit panicked.




‘My treat, Irissa. Amarose gives the cops from the station really cheap rates,’ Sergey assured her. Over his shoulder Amarose raised an eyebrow.
Irissa chewed on her lip and then nodded.

‘I’d like that,’ she said.

Sergey signalled one of the servers for menus.


‘The chilli here is great,’ he informed her. ‘That’s what I’m having.’

‘I thought I might like some of the cherry pie,’ Irissa replied, looking sheepish. ‘I have a sweet tooth.’

‘You have that in common with Amarose. She does a fair bit of the baking herself. Her pies and cheesecakes are fantastic. But don’t you think you out to have some proper food first?’ Sergey suggested.

Again Irissa looked uncomfortable. Sergey realised she felt uncomfortable with him spending money on her. He touched her hand lightly.

‘You can treat me next time.’

Irissa sighed.

‘It would be fine if I thought that I could do that, but I never have any money, Detective Solarin. I don’t get an allowance.’

‘Maybe you could try to get a job, then? I know you are trying hard to study, but I know Amarose is in need of someone a couple of hours an evening. I could talk to her,’ Sergey offered.

Irissa’s face lit up. She looked across and the friendly faced woman who ran the diner. Amarose was chatting to one of her staff, pointing out how a job should be done.





Irissa thought that she could enjoy working for her. She turned back to Sergey.

‘I’d really like that. Detective Solarin, why is this Tom’s Diner and not Amarose’s?’ She asked.

‘It was her father’s. He started the shelter Amarose now runs, too. At first it was for runaways and battered women. Now Amarose uses it as a centre for kids getting off the streets,’ Sergey explained.

Irissa looked at the woman with new respect.










Standing close to them Amarose had overheard part of the conversation. She moved to a vantage point to observe them. She knew that Sergey had no idea if she had any vacancies and would offer to pay the girl’s wages. As it happened she had just had to fire a girl who had spent more time chatting and flirting with the male customers than working. If Sergey’s lost puppy could work she would be glad to give her a job.

Chapter 3
Night Games




Suzanne lay on the bed with Julius Cappelli and smiled to herself. Now she was made. The Cappelli’s owned Darksprings and thanks to her new friend Sandy Suzanne had received an invitation to one of their ‘House Parties’. The early evening had been interesting and there had been wine and food in abundance. The Cappelli men had been the only ones there and they had moved among the assembled girls talking and joking, but Suzanne had felt as if they were all being judged and assessed, like cattle at the market. She had told sandy as much. The younger woman had laughed.

“Haven’t you noticed that there are less of us than there were? The staff are discretely telling some of the girls to leave. Think yourself lucky. You are the oldest ‘still standing’. We’ll see how you fare when the games really start later. Stephano will leave for his town apartment in about an hour then the boy’s will start ‘auditioning’ us for the new club they have opened.

Suzanne had bristled. She was not old. Thirty one was not old. She had been barely seventeen when she had given birth to Irissa.





She had watched with interest and not a little nervousness as the number of girls had reduced further. In the end there were eight of them left in the large, rambling rooms of the mansion. Then a girl and one of the Cappelli males would disappear for a while. Marco had taken Suzanne upstairs first. The man had been athletic and demanding and Suzanne had found herself just a little afraid of him, but he was the eldest brother and therefore the one with the most power, so Suzanne had called on her full repertoire to impress and please him. After, he had sent her back downstairs. As she had returned to the reception rooms she saw a small, curvy blonde being accompanied to the door. A ‘fail’, she presumed. Sandy smiled at her.

‘If Marco has kept you, you are as good as in. Relax. You’ll be here for the full weekend of debauchery,’ she assured Suzanne. ‘You’re into the cushy life now. A decent, safe place to work and a decent, regular wage. Just don’t cross them, Suzanne. Marco is a dangerous bastard. You do everything they tell you and exactly as they tell you. If you don’t...”

“I’m not out to make waves,” Suzanne had replied.






That had been Friday night. Now, on Sunday afternoon, she had done the round of the Cappelli men and the number of girls was down to five. Sandy had also made the grade. Julius put his arm round her and murmured in her ear

“You’re the best one here, this weekend, Whore. Let’s do that again.”
Yes, a girl liked it when a guy was so spot on with the sweet talk, Suzanne thought sourly, forcing a smile onto her face and wriggling closer to him.

Money




Irissa scraped food from the plates and set the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and then cleaned off all of the kitchen counters. She had been almost a week in her new job and was loving it. The rest of the staff were fun and friendly and Amarose was a darling to work for. She did not tolerate slackers but was more than fair if you did what you were paid to do. “Time you had your break, Kid,” Dave the older of the two chefs told her.

“I’m good, “Irissa smiled back.

“Maybe so, but you ain’t gonna waste this Tuna sandwich I’ve made you. Go eat,” he ordered.

Irissa took the sandwich and headed for the booth at the back. While she ate she pored over her homework assignment and formatted how it should be tackled in her head. The atmosphere here was so much nicer than at home and in spite of the noise and chatter of the customers she found she could study more easily here than there. Her school grades were going up, which seemed contradictory. When she did have an issue with any part of her schoolwork other members of staff were usually willing to help her with the problem.




A couple of times in the week Sergey called in to eat and to see how things were working out but much as she would have liked to have stopped to chat she kept working as they talked, keen not to be seen as slacking. She was concerned that the rest of the staff might think that she had only got her job because of him and wanted to prove herself to them.

Irissa had no reason to worry on that score, though. The rest of the staff found her cheerful and hard working. When her tasks were finished she didn’t stop but happily lent a hand to the others.

On Friday Betsy asked her if she wanted to come bowling with them after work the next evening.
Irissa was delighted.








At the end of the shift Amarose paid her week’s wages and gave her a share of the tips that the staff always pooled and divided at the end of the week.
“You’ve done a great job this week, Irissa. I’m going to try you serving from tomorrow. And if you’re interested there is a breakfast shift on Sunday mornings. None of the others like that much.”

Irissa looked at the money she had earned. With tips it was a little over five hundred simoleons. She could give her mother some housekeeping money. There was somewhere she wanted to go, though. Something she could treat herself to.