One of the Back Alleys in Fandom, Very Early Sunday Morning
Dawn was creeping over Fandom when Rita stumbled back towards her club. She'd had a fun night, but she never stayed the night unless she was hoping for a mistress gig, and Leon was just the hired help
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"Reason enough if she's right in our backyard," Angelface noted. "Last thing we need are the buttons sniffing around here, seeing if they can take a look inside."
He took Rita's unspoken accusation in stride, the same way he took pretty much everything. This wasn't a complete disaster, no. Never was, if they got to it quickly enough.
"As it stands, we're gonna want to get this one out of here."
Deal with the mess first, then worry about what dirty looks Rita was going to give him for it. That was how you ran a business in this neck of the woods, after all.
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The girl deserved a funeral, in a church somewhere, but Rita didn't bother suggesting anything that stupid. She shouldn't let it shake her up like this. Just another corpse on the streets. Wasn't like it was the first one she'd seen, either.
"The girls are gonna ask questions," she said. And she didn't feel like making up a lie about Celia inheriting some dough from her Great-Aunt Betty and skipping town.
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Angelface had noticed someone from the station sniffing around the building. If he'd been made aware of her coming into the back room, well, he'd certainly make it be known that he was disappointed that nobody had informed him. After all, it wouldn't do to have the one clean cop in town getting too interested in the place without at least giving him a chance to grease the right palms as damage control, first.
"Tell the girls they get the week out of the back rooms. Get 'em to show up for their numbers as usual, but too many questions are going to be frowned upon." Angelface tilted his head in thought. "Too many ladies giving answers are going to be frowned upon, too. You make it damn clear they keep their traps shut and direct any questions from the cops or the press back to you."
His name wasn't on the books, after all. It would certainly raise some eyebrows to implicate him in this. It was Rita's ass on the line if the cops got involved.
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"And you find the sonofabitch and remove his organs," she said.
Celia was working last night. So Angelface had to have a name.
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"We'll start with his knees," Angelface noted mildly, pulling a little black book from inside his pocket and flipping through to see who was working with what john last night. "Once we've dealt with this mess. If he's got half a brain in his head he'll be halfway to Chicago by now."
They never had half a brain in their head. Made for that many more bodies to hide at the end of the week.
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"Get him on the horn and tell him what's what," Angelface replied. "Tell him your boss has good kale if he makes it that far. Double if he makes an example of the man we can point at down the line if any future clients have misconceptions about exactly what product we're offering, here."
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Moments like this, it was easy to remember why she'd hopped into bed with him in the first place.
She felt like thanking him, but didn't want him to know she'd gone soft.
"I'm off for some beauty sleep," she said, waving a cigarette in Celia's direction. "You don't need me for disposal."
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