The Marker

He saved Jack for last, stepping forward to put the barrel of the sharp-profiled automatic to the back of his head. "Can't let you kill my little girl, Jack."

The muffled sound of the last shot was almost inaudible and Danny gave a slight, grim, smile as Jack slumped forward over the desk.

He stepped around the desk. "Wasn't sure you were really mine, not till you went all in."

"I figured he wouldn't give you a choice."

"You didn't give him one either." He studied me. "Jack was right, you look just like her. Except the eyes. Don't know how he missed it."

I looked into his familiar pale green eyes, the same ones I looked into in the mirror. "Yeah, I know. I got my father's eyes."

He glanced over his handiwork, pulling a pack of cigarettes out. "What happened to Rosemary?"

I felt the weight of my locket, with the only picture of Rosemary she'd ever let me take. "Lung cancer."

He raised an eyebrow at the cigarette in his hand, but went ahead and lit up, watching the smoke curl for a second. "We weren't in love or anything like that, you know. Weren't even really friends, I was just her way of getting even a little bit." He almost sounded like he regretted it. "I didn't owe her anything. But if she'd have let me know about you, I'd have stood up to it, helped out somehow."

"She didn't want anything to do with any of you."

"Figures. Where'd she go?"

I touched my locket. "Florida, to her Grandmother's house. She lived a good life, and she died with dignity."

"She made some bad choices, but she was a good person." He paused, looking me over. "I have the feeling you got my temperament though. It's a bad deal. Makes it real hard to let things go."

"Yeah, it's been a problem occasionally."

"So, what now?"

"You probably want to leave town. I'm thinking of doing some house cleaning."

"I heard Jones and Johnson are both fitting to retire in about six months. With Jack out of the way you can do a lot of housecleaning with those two in six months."

"Sounds about right."

"Leave The Chinaman to me. I'll drop by his place on the way out of town. Got a personal issue to settle with him."

"As long as you're gone within three days. And give The Chinaman my regards."

He glanced around. "Let's see if you're really my daughter. Burn it down or leave it?"

"Leave it. You burn it down, somebody will figure out your body isn't in here as soon as the ashes cool. Leave it and you gain a few days to run. Nobody is stupid enough to report this. Could be months before anyone 'discovers' it."

He led me towards the stairs, walking a little unevenly from the slight limp of his old injury. "Damn. I wish she'd have said something, I coulda helped raise you."

"Damn glad she didn't. Hate to think how I'd have turned out."

"About the same, I think."

"Now I'm really worried."

As we stepped out the walk-up door down onto the sidewalk I could see Jones and Johnson leaning against their car just a few spaces down, relaxed and easy.

Jones nodded to my father. "Danny."

"Detective."

Danny kept his hands clear, a cigarette in one, the pack in the other. Jones' hand never left his jacket pocket.

"We just thought we'd check on things. Some rumors out there, you know. Crazy story about some of Jack's men grabbing a police lieutenant right off the damn street."

I shrugged. "People do talk crazy, don't they?"

I watched Johnson discretely slide a sawed-off shotgun back into the car window. "Sounds like there isn't anything to worry about down here though."

"Not particularly. Danny here is leaving town."

"That so?"

Danny nodded. "Someplace sunny, I think." He looked over at me. "You said Florida, right?"

I nodded.

"Maybe I should buy some flowers, drop by and see Rosemary. Maybe we should have meant something to each other."

He reached out and touched my arm, a hint of sadness crossing his face.

I nodded. "She'd have liked that. Just outside Sarasota. Our Lady of Perpetual Mercy Cemetery. Just remember, three days."

Johnson gave a low laugh. "A permanent vacation's a good idea. The Lieutenant wouldn't want people seeing you near each other. With those eyes there's no question about it. Just like we told her. We figured she had a little bit of time. Not many people look Danny the Dragon in the eye."

Danny the Dragon gave a humorless smile, pulled his jacket straight, turned on his heel, and headed up the block.

As Jones opened the rear door of their car for me, I touched the folded Marker in my jacket pocket, thinking -- hoping, really - that maybe Mom understood.

Post Production Notes:

This was an accidental story. Even the most minor characters in my tales have their own back stories in my head. I usually don't tell them, but in Belle's case it seemed worth the trouble to put it down. She is a retired Police Commissioner who runs the State Office of Special Investigations in a story I am still working on.

Her full story is probably a novelette at least, but I'm always short of time, so I gave it the pulp magazine story treatment for now, Maybe sometime later I'll tell her full story.